Miracles Today?
There is much in the Acts of the Apostles which we shall probably not expect to witness in our day, as the apostles still lived and worked in an atmosphere of the miraculous. ‘Signs and wonders’ are frequently mentioned in its pages. Ananias and Sapphira die a dramatic death and Tabitha is raised from the dead. Prison doors are opened by an angel and prisoners’ fetters unfastened by an earthquake. Handkerchiefs and aprons from Paul’s body cure diseases and the sick are carried into the streets so the Peter’s shadow may fall upon them. Peter sees a strange vision and hears God’s voice on a housetop in Joppa, while Paul on the Damascus road is blinded by a light brighter than the sun and hears Christ’s voice addressing him in Hebrew.

Two extreme positions are often taken, neither of which can establish itself from Scripture. The first is to assert that miracles either do not or cannot happen today, which denies freedom and sovereignty to God. The other is to assert that they take place with the same frequency as in the ministry of Christ and his apostles, which ignores the major purpose of miracles according to Scripture, namely to authenticate a fresh stage of revelation. Paul describes his miracles as ‘the signs of a true apostle’ (2 Cor. 12:12), because they confirmed his apostolic authority.

—Dr. John R.W. Stott, The Meaning of Evangelism, 1

Another time Jesus went into the synagogue, and a man with a shriveled hand was there. Some of them were looking for a reason to accuse Jesus, so they watched him closely to see if he would heal him on the Sabbath. Jesus said to the man with the shriveled hand, “Stand up in front of everyone.” Then Jesus asked them, “Which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?” But they remained silent. He looked around at them in anger and, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts, said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was completely restored. Then the Pharisees went out and began to plot with the Herodians how they might kill Jesus.

—Mark 3:1-6 (TNIV)

I have been thinking a lot about God’s Holy Wrath this week and here we see it manifested in Jesus’ reaction to the bean counters, i.e., the legalists, of his day. God’s wrath is directed toward any evil because God cannot tolerate evil in any form. In the context of today’s lesson, it is directed toward the hard-heartedness of religious leaders who care more about following the rules (bean counting) than about relieving the wretchedness of the human condition in its myriad forms. Jesus will have none of it.

But notice too that God’s wrath is more than just anger. Mark tells us that Jesus was “deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts” and his wrath actually manifested itself in the healing of the man’s shriveled hand. Any of us who have seen a loved one go down a wrong path can understand this dynamic, albeit imperfectly. Like Jesus, our hearts become angry and distressed when we see a loved one bringing disaster on himself or herself because of a “stubborn heart,” which blinds him or her to the better way.

Of course, this should not surprise us about God’s wrath because we see it manifesting itself in the cross of Christ. God took on our flesh and bore the terrible punishment of his wrath himself. He wants us to live with him forever, starting right now, and in the cross he moved in a decisive way to make that possible, if we will only accept the gracious invitation via faith.

Since all of us are drawn by what pleases us, are we to say that Christ cannot draw a person to Him? What indeed do we hunger for more than wisdom, righteousness, truth, eternity?

—Augustine, Commentary on the Gospel of John, 26.6.5

There are two reasons why we sin: either we do not see what ought to be done or we do not do what we now know must be done. The first of these causes is ignorance; the second is weakness. We must fight against them but to conquer them we need divine aid—the grace to see what should be done and the grace to make our delight in doing it stronger than our delight in those things which make us sin knowingly with our eyes wide open.

—Augustine, Enchiridion on Faith, Hope, and Charity, 22.81

I don’t know about you, but this is a terrible struggle, even with God’s help. Of course, it is impossible without the Spirit’s help and Presence.

Nobody can bring yesterday back; tomorrow is already treading at the heels of today, pushing to “get it over with.” We should worry more about living a good life now so that we can get to that heavenly land where we will not need to worry about “getting over with” anything.

—Augustine, Sermon 124.4

As an old historian, this excerpt from Augustine speaks to me. There are times I wish I could bring back yesterday to right wrongs, to relive happy times, or to be in the company of those whom I love but have lost to death. But that is not the way time works, and I guess that is a good thing. I know from my own experience that when I put on my historian’s hat, it is possible to get lost in another world of space and time. When that happens, of course, I am not attending to the present, the only time that really matters, the only time I have to make a difference.

Paul understood the importance of living in the present when he said in regard to his own faith journey, “But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13-14). So did our Lord understand the importance of living in the present when he said, “Don’t worry about tomorrow. It will take care of itself. You have enough to worry about today” (Matthew 6:34).

This does not mean we should not enjoy our memories or ignore them. After all, memory too is a gift from God. Rather, it means we are to live in the present for now is the only time we have to live. Our days are numbered. Make the most of the time with which God has blessed you.

“This is how you are to pray,” Christ said: “Our Father in heaven.” This new person, born again, restored to God by grace, says first of all “Father” because this one has now become an heir. So any who have believed in his name and have become children of God ought now to begin to offer thanks and to declare themselves God’s children, when they speak of God as their Father in heaven.

How indulgent it is of the Lord, what exuberance of condescension and goodness toward us, to permit us when praying in God’s presence to address ourselves to God as Father—a name which none of us would have dared to reach in prayer, had he himself [Christ] not allowed us to pray. We should therefore recollect and feel  that, when we call God a Father, we ought to act like children of God, and if it comforts us to regard him as our Father, let us so act that he may be comforted in us. Let us conduct ourselves as temples of God, and God will remain in us.

—Cyprian, Bishop and Martyr of Carthage, On the Lord’s Prayer

How marvelous the power of the cross; how great beyond all telling the glory of the passion: here is the judgment-seat of the Lord, the condemnation of the world, the supremacy of Christ. [The] cross is the source of all blessings, the cause of all graces. Through the cross the faithful receive strength from weakness, glory from dishonor, life from death. God’s compassion for us is all the more wonderful because Christ died, not for the righteous or the holy but for the wicked and the sinful.

—Leo the Great, Sermon 8 for the Lord’s Passion