"... according to your faith let it be done to you..."
The fuel of our prayers is Faith. Faith is the capacity to believe, the capacity to act on that belief. It doesn't have to be an intense emotion. Many times it can simply be a choice - a choice to rise and come to him solely based on our our need or, in this case, our blindness. Sometimes exercising faith is as simple of doing the right thing.
Jesus' heart swells with love when seeing us coming to him in faith. While he regards the particulars of our intercession, he is blessed more-so with the fact that we chosen to come to him, period. This doesn't discount our need, nor its answer. (He is Lord over all our particulars and can answer them with a Word.) But, to him, our particulars run secondary to the fellowship/relationship that his gained as a result of brining our particulars to the Throne of Grace. To put it another way, to him our prayers are in the bag, a no brainer - they will be answered. Yet the intercessions themselves provide an excuse - a sacred avenue? - wherein Relationship happens.
I suppose, in this sense, it can be said that all situations are gifted for the ultimate purpose of fostering fellowship with the Jesus; the rekindling of Relational Intimacy, regrettably lost in the Garden.
Back to the story: These two blind men followed him, crying, "Son of David, have mercy on us!" They followed him into the house where he asked them, 'Do you believe I am able to do this?" "Yes, Lord." Jesus often asks the petitioner a question regarding their faith. Here it is, "Do you believe I am able to do this." Another place he asks, "Do you want to be made whole?" And another, "Do you believe this?"
These questions force the petitioners to come to grasp of their true needs and their sole dependence on the Word so that, when the healing happens, it will run unforgettably deep in the psyche of their sacred history. Jesus isn't about the business of healing others based on the latest fad and impulse for self improvement. For him there needs to be an authentic cry from the heart, a desperate plea that pierces through all the superficiality - not because it's the "right thing to do" but because it's an faithful offering, a holy vulnerability, a sincere presentation of my blindness before the Light of the World.
No comments:
Post a Comment