Miracles 1: The God of the Mundane

I've noticed something about the miracles of Jesus: no matter the reason for the miracle, no matter how big or how small, Jesus performed it with the same attitude and nonchalance as if He were carrying a box from one room to another. Something was one way; He wanted it to be another way. He made it happen.

He walked on water, as though He were walking down the street. He commanded a storm to be still as if telling His dog to "sit. Stay." He can do that. He created the water, and the storm.

I think we often feel as though a miracle ought to be accompanied by fanfare. As though we have to sing and dance and shout, and announce from on high before God will so much as heal a cataract. Televangelists have an organ playing obnoxiously before dancing down the aisle, raising up a trembling hand, and smacking a troubled audience member while declaring, "Be Healed!"

Jesus spat in some mud, smeared it on some guy's eye and told him to wash his face (John 9:1-7).

Very often, when we look for miracles at the hand of the God of the Universe, we're looking for some big announcement: Hey, look! I'm performing a miracle over here! Thunder! Lightning!

But the Jesus of the Bible just says, "Get up and walk." (Luke 5:22-24)

The truth is, when we look for the mighty miracles, for the trumpets to sound and a voice to come over the wind, we miss the every-day miracles. And when we miss the miraculous in the every day, we also miss the chance to be a part of a miracle ourselves.

(Coming up tomorrow... "Who brought the Fish" -- how God uses us to perform His great works)