A woman in the crowd had suffered for twelve years with constant bleeding. … She had heard about Jesus, so she came up behind him through the crowd and touched his robe. For she thought to herself, “If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.” [Mark 5:25,27-28 (NLT)]
In Mark 5, we find three stories of miraculous healings: the demoniac living among the graves in the Gerasenes, the woman who bled for twelve years, and the daughter of Jairus who was brought back to life. These are beautiful stories, but what about all the other people in 2,000 years for whom there has been no healing? Like the woman with the blood disorder, my friend has suffered for more than twelve years, tried every remedy, and gotten no relief. This man of deep faith prays for healing as do all his family and friends. His faith is as strong as that of the nameless woman and yet he’s had no relief.
As the local synagogue’s leader, it’s likely Jairus was one of those in the synagogue who criticized Jesus for healing a man on the Sabbath. He even might have been with the Pharisees when they accused Jesus of being possessed by Satan. He and his daughter certainly weren’t more deserving than a neighbor’s grandson. Along with the child’s parents and countless others, they knelt before Jesus and begged for the boy’s healing. Nevertheless, in spite of their prayers and five-and-a-half years of treatment, healing never came. We didn’t ask God to raise him from the dead; we just wanted Eddie to live more than his brief eight years!
The bleeding woman and Jairus sought out the Lord but Jesus crossed the Sea of Galilee and calmed a storm to reach the Gentile demoniac. My uncle was a good man of deep Christian faith but he descended into the hell of psychosis from which he couldn’t escape and, instead of living among the graves, he lived in a state psychiatric hospital. He desperately sought Jesus but, in spite of countless prayers for release from his demons, release only came when he died. Why was the pagan demoniac healed and not my uncle?
If all we needed for healing was sincere faith and fervent prayers, good Christians would never get sick or die—but, they do. Billy Graham suffered from Parkinson’s disease for 25 years and Martin Luther had 24 years of ill-health. Luther’s pain was so crippling that he frequently prayed for death’s relief. Based on existing records, forensic scientists believe Francis of Assisi suffered from malaria, tuberculosis, peptic ulcer, gastric cancer, brucellosis, blindness from trachoma, and leprosy until his death at 44. Among other ailments, John Calvin suffered from kidney stones, painful gout, heartburn and indigestion, chronic facial pain, roundworms, migraines, and chronic insomnia until his death at 55 (probably from tuberculosis). If anyone had a direct line to God’s ear, it would be men like these and the Apostle Paul. Without a doubt, they all prayed for relief but God chose not to remove their many thorns.
Although Jesus taught us that God will respond to our faithful prayers, He never taught us that faith automatically brings about healing. While there are many instances in Scripture where Jesus links faith and healing, there are many others where the healing seems almost random. When we look at His many miraculous healings, there’s no formula to them. In fact, Jesus’ healing seems unrelated to people’s faith. The man healed by the pool at Bethesda didn’t even know Jesus’ name. The only constant is Jesus rather than faith or prayer!
God can and does heal. Whether or not He does so is His sovereign choice and our physical healing may not be God’s top priority! Of the many sick and suffering people crowded around the pool in Bethesda, Jesus healed just one man. The reasons why God restores health to some and not to others is beyond our understanding. Healing is neither evidence of our faith nor proof of God’s love for us and we can’t allow bitterness or anger to fill our hearts when it doesn’t occur. Even for the most faithful, miraculous healings are the exception not the rule! Someday, all sickness and death will be gone but, until then, we must have faith and trust in God.
He has chosen not to heal me, but to hold me. The more intense the pain, the closer His embrace. [Joni Eareckson Tada]
Last year, our family rented a lake home in Idaho. Although we never saw our next-door neighbors, we saw their landscaper nearly every day. A robotic lawnmower, it was meticulous about not missing even a small patch of grass on their expansive lawn. About twice the size of our robotic vacuum, this mower puts our little vac to shame. Rather than going in seemingly random circles, it efficiently cut in back-and-forth straight lines. The gizmo never strayed onto the beach, got lost in the shrubbery, banged into lawn furniture, or wandered into our yard! From lakeside to house, it went up and down the slope without slowing down and returned to its charging station when its power ran low. An obedient and hard-working servant, it was on call 24/7 and would have mowed all night if so directed. The mower’s schedule, boundaries, and grass height requirement were controlled by its master’s smartphone! Because that technology came with a hefty price tag, it also came with a built-in-alarm system, GPS theft-tracking, and a pin code.
The closest thing we have to a pet is one of those robot vacuums. Nearly as entertaining as a puppy, it needs far less care. As I watch it zip around the house, its movements appear to be entirely random. Sometimes, it starts by spiraling outward in a circle and, other times, it heads directly for the perimeter of the room. When it hits an obstacle, it seems to bounce off in another direction. Nevertheless, my robotic janitor usually knows enough to stop and beep for rescue when it gets into a jam. Unlike it, when I get into predicaments, I usually try to get out of them on my own. Life would be easier if I called on the Lord as readily as that gizmo beeps for me.
Yosemite Sam, the cartoon arch enemy of Bugs Bunny, used to exclaim “Jumpin’ Jehosophat!” I was an adult before learning that Jehosophat was the fourth king of the southern kingdom of Judah. It’s ironic that the king said to be jumping in Sam’s pseudo-swear is best known for standing still in 2 Chronicles!
Last week, when writing how Jephthah’s reckless vow caused his daughter’s death, I remembered how Saul’s equally foolish vow nearly cost his son’s life. While Israel was at war with the Philistines, Saul and his 600 men were camped near Gibeah. Israel was seriously out-numbered by the better-armed Philistines and, because their enemy controlled the pass at Micmash, Saul’s troops could proceed no further. Although the rest of Saul’s men were afraid, Jonathan and his armor bearer were confident that the Lord was with them. Tired of the hopeless standoff with their enemies, the two snuck out of camp and headed toward the Philistine garrison. After passing through two treacherous cliffs and scaling a steep slope, they entered the enemy outpost and, outnumbered ten to one, killed them all.
One of the most disturbing stories in the Bible is found in Judges 11. Before leading the army into battle with the Ammonites, Jephthah made a rash vow to the Lord—if given victory, he’d make a burnt sacrifice of the first thing to come out of his house to meet him upon his return. God granted Israel victory but, when Jephthah returned home, it was his daughter who came out to greet him. When the anguished Jephthah told her of his vow, the girl willingly accepted her fate. She only asked for one thing—to go into the hills with her friends to mourn that she’d never marry or know the joy of motherhood. When she returned, “her father kept the vow he had made and she died a virgin.”
Devotions of the Heart 