Pop’s Page

Do you remember when you were 7 years old going on 8? When someone asked you your age, you wouldn’t say “seven”; instead you’d say “seven and a half.” As youngsters we always wanted people to know that we weren’t all that young. Then maybe around 30 we stopped rounding up and in fact started rounding down. Being 30 something was definitely considered “being over the hill.” So we wanted to be as close to the hill as possible.

I was reminded of all this yesterday as I accompanied mom (aka “Grandma Tex”) to the Baylor Hillside Senior Healthcare Center. The geriatrics center of the main Baylor facility had suggested that mom might benefit from using a cane to help in some balance problems that she had last Fall. As she filled out the inevitable paperwork that would get her started in “cane training” at this center, I couldn’t help but note that she listed her age as “98 1/2″. It looks like mom had come full circle. Now as she nears 99 she is proud of how old she is. And we are too. At 98 (and a half) she is clearly the sharpest member of our family, and on a relative basis (as events were to prove) possibly the spryist. And oh yes, certainly the healthiest. I’ll never forget the remark her doctor made some years back. After her annual physical examination he said, “the Lord sure has blessed you.” And she herself echoes this comment in answering those who ask her: “what’s your secret?”

But back to the Hillside Center. Our purpose there, as I mentioned, was to provide mom some instruction in how to use her new “quad cane” that Baylor had supplied to her. This is one of those aluminum canes with 4 feet which are supposed to be more stable than the usual “single point” cane. I dropped mom off at the door of the center while I found a place to park. In her usual fashion, unaided–and without her new cane–she briskly entered the door and moved to the registration desk. This left me to park and then enter the waiting room carrying her new cane. I could see the raised eyebrows. “Who was bringing whom to get therapy?” We finally made our way into the “wellness facility” where we met with a physical therapist to help mom get checked out with her cane. After getting a profile of mom’s issues, and testing her on movement capabilities, she decided to have mom “run the cane couse.” This was nothing complicated: just a straight line marked by a piece of masking tape on the carpeted floor. First, mom was to walk unaided by cane the complete course while the therapist timed her. I could see by mom’s facial expression that she regarded this as a kind of challenge. Sure enough, she walked about as fast as I’ve seen her recently and did the course in record time. I could tell the therapist was starting to wonder why we were here. Next, mom walked the course using the new quad cane. The therapist clicked off the time, and with arched eyebrows noted: “you were faster without the cane. Furthermore, you never let all four feet touch the floor. It appears the ‘quad’ isn’t of much use to you.”

After some discussion we concluded that a single point cane might be a better choice, and the therapist said she would make arrangements to do a swap, even though I’m not sure she wasn’t convinced that a “zero point” cane would be just as good. That done, we left the center the way we came in, but this time mom was carrying the cane. I noticed she kept it about an inch off the floor the entire journey. To me this gave new meaning to that old expression: “raising cane.”

In that day you will no longer ask me anything. I tell you the truth, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. (John 16:23-24)

He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.” (Matthew 26:42)

Throughout most of my Christian life I’ve not been too concerned with what appears to be the blanket promise of our Lord in the passage from John in which He says that His Father will give us anything we ask in His Name. Even though it sounds unconditional, there must be strings attached I told myself, particularly in light of other Scriptures. But lately, as I ride the roller-coaster of Susan’s illness—and particularly the physical suffering of that illness—I find myself wishing that my prayers for her to be miraculously healed would be answered just as the Lord says: so my joy would be complete.

In fact I can think of 3 reasons why such an answer would be a good thing, theologically, evangelically and culturally. First of all, if suddenly all our prayers in Jesus name were answered in the sense above (“my Father will give you whatever….”) it would reaffirm the truth of our faith. Think of it: a new believer suffering from some sort of wasting illness. After praying to receive the Lord he then prays for healing and presto, he is healed. Instantly. Miraculously. What a confirmation that his faith is real.

Secondly, it would be a testimony to the world of the truth of Christianity. Even the most hard-hearted tough-minded atheist would have to take notice if suddenly Christians could do miraculous things simply through the act of praying. Think of how rapidly the Kingdom would spread once the truth of the Gospel is demonstrated and everyone jumps on board so that their prayers can be answered too.

And third, think of how our culture could be transformed once the prayers of Christians are instantly answered. Aborted fetuses resurrected. Terrorists thwarted at every turn. Corporate officers (a la Enron) suddenly turned into caring more about their employees than themselves. And best of all, Democrats defeated in every election! (Tongue in cheek….)

Of course, none of those “wonderful things” I described above actually happen (including the part about the Democrats), and so we Christians are forced to exercise faith, sometimes even in the face of evidence that tempts us to doubt the goodness of God as when our loved ones suffer through the agony of a wasting disease like cancer. So what are the “strings attached” that seem to reduce the impact of the blanket prayer promise above, and why do they exist?

Let’s take our first example: a new believer suddenly able to be cured of an illness upon his second prayer (his first is to repent and trust in Christ). Why wouldn’t that be a good thing? Certainly, in the New Testament we see something similar to this happening. The man born blind in John 9 for example. Or the resurrection of Lazarus in John 11. The words of Lazarus’ sisters to Jesus could be regarded as a prayer for his resurrection. “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask,” says Martha. That sure sounds like a prayer for resurrection to me. And it was answered just like she wanted as we well know. Why couldn’t this be a general principle for all believers with sick relatives?

By focusing on the resurrection of Lazarus so intensely, we might well lose sight of another implied truth—namely, that what makes Lazarus’ resurrection so important is that it is unique. The New Testament only records three resurrections by Jesus: the son of the widow of Nain (whose name was not even recorded), the daughter of Jairus, and Lazarus. No doubt hundreds, perhaps thousands, of believers died during Jesus’ three year ministry, but only three were brought back to life. (We do need to recognize that some dead believers arose on the first Easter, as though the power of Jesus’ own resurrection was so great that it spread to others.) So even during the Son of God’s bodily presence on Earth, resurrection was uncommon. In a similar way, even though Jesus healed many diseases during this period, a far larger number remained uncured. Only one cripple at the pool of Bethesda was made to walk, all the others were left in their afflictions, perhaps even some who had much stronger faith than the man described in John 5. The point seems to be that the miracles of healing were to show the power of Jesus over the physical world—including death and disease—as He brought in the Kingdom to come. As He said to Pilate: “My kingdom is not of this world.” It is not the present fallen world that He has come to restore, though He has power over it. Rather it is the Kingdom of Heaven—which is essentially a spiritual kingdom—that He will bring in power at His triumphal return.

So, if all our prayers for healing were answered we would in effect be attempting to restore this present earthly kingdom—the same one that put the Lord of Glory to death. Jesus has something far better in mind for us which we will experience at our death. As He told the thief on the cross: “today you will be with Me in paradise.” The prelude to that paradise in this life is not attempting to find it on earth, but rather to prepare for its future reception in its spiritual aspects. The most important of these is our relationship with our Savior as a person. It was not that the thief was to be in paradise, but that he would be “with Me” there. It was not the physical realities of Martha’s meal preparations that was the priority, rather it was Mary’s preoccupation with Jesus that He Himself endorsed as the “the one thing that is needed.”

So much for point 1. What about point 2: that instantaneous, miraculous answers to our prayers would be enough to convince any atheist? The answer—regrettably—seems to be that if they weren’t convinced by the miracles of the Son of God Incarnate, they won’t be convinced by us either. Jesus performed many miracles, but even his hometown rejected him, not to mention the rulers and authorities of His day. Why would our society be any different? To think so is to be naïve about the degree of depravity in a fallen world. If the world hated Him, they will hate us too, no matter how spectacular the healing. Pharaoh wouldn’t believe even with the marvelous miracles accomplished through Moses. What makes us think that the elite of our day wouldn’t do the same?

Which brings us to point 3. Can our fallen culture ever be transformed and restored to its pre-Fall condition? God only knows, and He tells us in Scripture that the answer is “no”. As Revelation reveals: there must be a new heaven and a new earth. Paul talks about creation groaning until it is recreated. Even our own spiritual rebirth is spoken of in terms of becoming “new creatures in Christ.” In effect, God is going to start over with us as brothers of the first born of that new creation, the resurrected Lord Jesus Christ. We will be changed to a state of glory in which it is no longer possible to rebel against our Creator. This is not to say that we shouldn’t strive in the days the Lord gives us here to be salt and light in our culture. That was the genius of our Puritan ancestors who saw this life a preparation for the next, with the implication that nothing but excellence would do.

So I’ve come full circle. Have I by this logic now proven that I should not pray for my beloved’s miraculous cure? Not at all. Jesus prayed for the very thing that He and the Father knew was impossible: that he not drink of the cup—the cross—that the Father had given Him. Perhaps it is possible that my loved one or yours could be cured—miraculously or medically—and this be in conformance with the will of God. Like Jesus, we can and in fact should pray for what appears to be the impossible, knowing that our God is a loving Father who seeks the good of our beloved more than even we do. The mystery of the detailed nature of that good we must leave, by faith, to the sovereignty and majesty of Almighty God. “Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” (And, oh yes, that will sometimes mean that even Democrats will get elected.)