Believing in Miracles??
Indianapolis First Friends Quaker Meeting
Rachel Doll O’Mahoney
May 26, 2024
Acts 3: 1-10
One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, “Look at us!” So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.
Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.
I recall so clearly standing in the lobby of the hospital.
The hum of visitors in and out.
Hot September air rushed into the cold AC every time someone entered or left.
Staff carrying lunches and hustling to and from the coffee stand.
The dark-unstainable carpet on which the stiff-armed couches sat.
“God won’t let Dad die.”
Said my brother.
“Our Dad is too good. He does too many good things for too many people for God to let this happen.”
I don’t remember if he was crying.
We all had tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes for the week prior and would for weeks later.
We were all unable to eat and starved for the ordinary.
I offered my 23-year-old advice from my newly minted Bachelor of Arts in Theology and shallow well of experience:
“I am not sure that is how God works...at some point it seems that biology is winning here.”
“But I think, that maybe God is with us in all of this.”
It was a hopeless comment, it was not the consolation he was looking for.
His shoulders dropped and off we went. Me to my corner next the sad dusty plastic Ficus tree and his under the overly optimistic art print of willows on a lake bursting with color.
There were thousands of miracles that emerged from my father’s death.
But his survival was not one of them.
Today I am talking about miracles, but it feels like I need to start with not a miracle story, because well that’s how it is for most of us.
When we talk about miracles, we inevitably consider the miracles that didn’t happen.
We confront our seasons of darkness and hopelessness.
We inevitably wonder why not me- when I was a beggar outside of the gate, “Why not me?!”
Let me just say, I am not sure.
I am not miraculous healing kind of religious person- this message is a stretch for me.
It is more aspirational than certain.
And there is not a simple or soothing answer here.
Which is why so many of the people I know avoid this part of Christian faith-
This part that says God sometimes completely and instantly heals people’s infirmity.
Might there be some religious space between tent revival healings and the cerebral, “If I can’t understand it then it isn’t real”?
Of course, we all want a miracle, don’t we?
We want God to be a genie who will grant us wishes.
Or (as Barbara Brown Taylor says) “ A gumball machine”[1] where we put in our token prayer and out comes a chewing gum miracle?
And when our genie God doesn’t give us the goods—we have to make sense of it.
Today’s scripture passage begs me to ask the question “what do I think of miracles?”
Do I really believe they can happen? And like this?
For the bulk of Christian history biblical miracle stories have been a balm and comfort…
And I hesitate to think modern and postmodern us have the complete reservoir of wisdom.
This scripture story, this miracle, is the first scene after the gathering of Pentecost.
You know- Pentecost, a scene in Acts 2 where God appears as a strong wind,
tongues of fire settled on the gathered disciples
and Jews of all kinds from all over the world understand each other despite speaking different languages.
This miraculous healing story emerges from that miraculous togetherness story.
But what happens here in our scripture passage is that Peter and John are going to the temple to pray.
And a man, disabled from birth, is there begging for alms.
He asks Peter and John.
They have no money to give-
But they say, “What I have to give I give you in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk.” They helped him up and he walked and entered the temple.
They go to temple; people freak out with wonder and joy and also of course defensiveness.
So again, what does this mean for us?
But Jesus’ life and then in Acts the life of his early followers are populated with the miraculous.
So now I invite us- to let ourselves be stretched by these stories.
To enter into them and allow God’s expansiveness to play on our hearts.
Here are my takeaways from this story:
First, let’s consider that this healing could have been ordinary.
Could have been one of welcome.
And then, let's stretch ourselves a bit and consider that maybe God does bring forth unexplainable miracles?
And if today’s story is any hint- perhaps for those who don’t even ask.
Finally, let’s ponder the miracles we can understand- and yet, they are no less amazing.
Let’s consider that the primary healing here that this man becomes a part of a community he was excluded from.
What if we imagine that this man’s arms or legs or back wasn’t restored to perfection or exchanged in any way-
But what happened here is that for the first time in his life someone welcomes him.
What if the miracle is Peter’s welcome and invitation into the temple to pray with him.
After all, wasn’t the Pentecost scene about unity in diversity?
Isn’t a variety of abilities always a part of diversity?
Because of his disability and the customs around sacred and profane in the Jewish temple this man he has always been an outsider- ever looking in.
The miracle that Jesus the Christ does through Peter might simply be to invite this man to temple with him.
Or better yet- Peter senses that without this man the full presence of God in the temple cannot be realized.
Perhaps Peter is realizing the smallness of his worldview- and expanding it- that is the miracle.
If this man is healed…
Then so too is Peter
And John.
And all the worshippers in the temple that day.
In this gesture he finds his belonging.
He joins the community of God and all are enriched by his way of being in the world
However, his body moves.
Haven’t we all been excluded from one thing or another.
Been an outsider, been invisible or worse, unwanted?
It is profoundly painful to be excluded.
I hope we have all found healing in those dark parts, and if so, that is a kind of miraculous healing.
Isn’t that part of what we witness today in this story from Acts?
Inclusion, and welcome, and being wanted and celebrated…
For those who are excluded and unwelcome- that is a miracle.
Wheelchair ramps and ASL interpreters can be miracles.
Thoughtful spaces for people with allergies and sensitivities can feel like miracles.
Free feminine products and handrails and openness to doing better all feel like miracles when you are the one who wants to be included.
Spaces that allow for all our bodies, all our complexities, all our quirks and struggles are miraculous (and messy) places.
So let this text challenge us as we ponder:
How are we being inclusive people? How can we do better?
How can we continue to welcome others in our midst in our circles in our community of care?
How can we also ask for the welcome we need.
Another possible interpretation- What if this is a miracle?
Where in an instant this man’s body is healed, fixed, returned to some Greek ideal of “man”
And What if there really are miracles That have no explanation other than God’s handiwork?
Luke- who wrote Acts- is inviting us to really consider that the risen Christ Jesus could heal through Peter and John
Healing in the Book of Acts is evidence of Jesus Christ’s holiness” A sign that he was of the God of Abraham and Sarah and Isaac and Rebecca and Jacob and Rachel
And that invoking the name of Jesus Christ causes healing.
This is part of the Christian tradition.
And are we so self-important to think that if we cannot comprehend it then it didn’t happen?
Is our God so small that they only fit within our reason, understanding, science or comprehension?
In refusing to lean into the miraculous and awe-inspiring do we sometimes sell God short?
Let’s lean into God’s greatness.
Let God be the force of love and life and energy in the universe.
Lean into the unfathomable.
Lean into a faith and spirituality that doesn’t always make sense.
And is out of our complete control.
As I said earlier, I am not really a miraculous healing kind of person.
But I cannot help but think that maybe I should be.
This man was not looking for a miracle but looking for some cash to pay for dinner…
And wham- his life is turned around…
We know nothing of his faith, nothing of his deeds.
But God saw him, and healed him.
It’s not magic exactly. I like to think that it is God dancing in the life of all of us, dancing in the world. And every so often, that dance starts a new step.
What would it be to live in a world where we believe in a God who surprises us by offering life beyond our wildest imaginations?
To believe in a God whose heart is so broken by this man's desperation he cannot help but respond-?
Are we brave enough to trust that God is capable of that?
Sometimes in subtle ways, in explainable ways, in ways we can support
and sometimes utterly miraculous and unexplainable ways?
Finally, there is this- which doesn’t fit squarely into interpreting this text,
But I think is part of any conversation about miracles.
I said that when my dad died there were 1,000’s of miracles that happened.
And there were. Most of them are private-
but are about the people who fell into my life in the midst of grief and sometimes from sharing with others in theirs.
The way my capacity sits with unfixable pain increased.
The way God took the stinkiest crap and turned it into the most fertile soil.
I will never “get over” his death.
But its aftermath contains gems.
Miracles pop up in ordinary life.
And though So many people’s lives are hard and hopeless and riddled with struggle I still say:
there are times and moments and places where I cannot help but say, “Surely God had a hand in this. Surely!?”
Isn’t it a miracle that clean water comes out of our faucets and some cancers are curable.
That smallpox has been eradicated and therapy is helping me deal with some trauma and that I have a spouse I love more than I need to put words to.
All kinds of miracles.
What a miracle trees and flowers and baby birds and strange looking possums are.
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
People rarely rise up from their death beds.
And no-one rises up from their earthly one forever.
But I want to challenge all of us to pray for the miraculous.
To pray for war to end.
For hunger to cease.
For the hopeless to be hope-filled.
I want to challenge us to pray we may offer the miracle of welcome:
To those who sit on opposite sides of the political spectrum.
To those who are certain and those who are loosy goosy.
To the immigrant and widow and orphan among us.
I want to challenge us to notice the miracles that populate our ordinary:
In a deep breath and soft beds.
When emotional, physical, and spiritual healing crack open our fortresses.
On the days the rain comes amid the drought.
Queries:
What is stirring within you as you listen to these words?
Beyond “god as a genie” is there an image of God that allows for you to believe God can move and act beyond our comprehension?
Consider today- the miracles in your life- the ordinary/the extraordinary
[1] Quotes in this article: https://www.christiancentury.org/believing-in-miracles