A Reflection for Wednesday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
Find the readings here.
When it was evening, after sunset, they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons. The whole town was gathered at the door. He cured many who were sick with various diseases, and he drove out many demons, not permitting them to speak because they knew him. (Mk 1:32-34)
It’s a little unfair. When Jesus walked the earth, performing wonders and miracles, demonstrating that he was no ordinary honey-and-locust-eating prophet, his apostles, friends, crowds by the Sea of Galilee and total strangers passing by got to see him in action: casually casting out demons, dishing out baskets of loaves and fishes and raising the dead. How hard was it to believe that he was the son of God after personally witnessing all that?
Jesus assures us through doubting Thomas (with whom I am in complete sympathy) that we future followers who will never be those live-action witnesses are more blessed—we have believed, if often brokenly, without seeing.
Still, a lot is required from us modern believers to take the fact that these acts actually happened on faith. Having a chance to eyeball something undeniably divine during this era of daily miracles would have been a big help.
Perhaps being an early adopter is overrated. It does seem that despite all that they witnessed, the disciples remained a confused and unhelpful bunch. How many times did Jesus have to explain his parables to these easily befuddled men? How many times did he simply give up in exasperation, spell things out and point them in the right direction?
And eyewitness testimony, as any police officer can tell you, often is completely unreliable. The brain plays tricks. It mashes and distorts faces and details. It sometimes sees what it wants to see. How often did the apostles and bystanders watch Jesus’ miraculous acts of mercy only to walk away, not in belief, but in blunt bafflement and fear?
How likely would it be that I would believe even if I did see?
But now—2,000 and 24 years after his earthly walkabout ended—I do see. I still see. There are moments when I so sharply perceive a world awash in miracles that it stops my breath; miracles of creation and life and suffering and mercy all around me. Every day. I only need eyes, ears and heart to remain open and attuned to them.
