Ruminations

I’ve become an observer.

I don’t know when this occurred; it probably didn’t just “occur,” but rather “developed.” Perhaps it has something to do with age, experience or both. Perhaps it has to do with a mental transformational process that evolved. “Evolved” in the sense that I intentionally pursued it.

Maybe the evolution of the mental transformation couldn’t have occurred without the age and experience. While I don’t think that is the proper equation, it seems to hold true in my case.

So, I observe.

I came across a story about a man who was heartbroken; his little girl was dying. He goes to Jesus…

When he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet, pleading fervently with him. “My little daughter is dying,” he said. “Please come and lay your hands on her; heal her so she can live.”

Jesus is about to do what we would classify as a miracle; yet, to him, it doesn’t seem to be such a big deal. He simply tells her to get up and get something to eat.

Straightforward.

Yet, we claim it is miraculous, which is just another way of saying “impossible” (for us, anyway). And this is where my observational mindset ratchets up a bit.

In the face of the miraculous, the supernatural upsets us. We are uncomfortable with it because we see is as invasive. We want it to fit into our neat pattern of the natural, that which we know. The problem is, it can’t… it is supernatural. When it doesn’t conform to our way of imagining it, we classify it as unacceptable.

If it is a story in a book written a long, long time ago, we are okay with it; if it is something that takes places in our presence, it gives us a problem. That, to me, is intriguing.

We assume that everyone who saw Jesus do what he did was in awe of him and just some stodgy old Pharisees (whatever that is) were bent out of shape over what he did. If that were so, why does the story tell us that everyone laughed at him?

Could it be that a Being as expansive as we claim God to be actually wants us to be unable to define him in a way that neatly fits into our reality? Could it be that our discomfort at supernatural intrusions into our orderly existence is God’s way of saying “get up and get something to eat”?

Perhaps we shouldn’t be laughing at him…