4th Week of Lent (M): Isa 65.17-21; John 4.43-54
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert the Great Priory, Irving, TX
Hear it!
Why do we flock to churches where an image of the Blessed Mother is allegedly weeping? Why do we thrill over stories out of New Orleans that entire churches were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina, yet the statues of Our Lady of Prompt Succor were spared? And more recently, our Catholic papers and blogsites were loaded with reports that a consecrated host in this very diocese was found bleeding in a glass of water.
Signs and wonders, signs and wonders. Why do we thrill at these reports? Why do seek to be shown that which we already know to be true? When Jesus says in this morning’s gospel, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe,” are we the “you people” he’s talking about? I can confess here and now that there are times when I find myself seeking signs and wonders, wanting something unusual, something otherworldly as a sign of God’s presence, as a signal that He is working in my life. In some ways this desire grows out of our very natural desire to be with God, to seek Him out and dwell with Him forever. But we cannot get away from Jesus’ exasperation: you will not believe unless I show you something miraculous, something wondrous. You can almost hear him sigh.
You can hear the impatience of the anxious father, “Sir, come down before my child dies.” Jesus is worried that the people of Israel aren’t hearing his word, that they aren’t hearing him as The Word, and thus clamoring for signs and wonders as proof that he is who he says he is. The father is worried about his dying child. Despite his fretting about the people’s need for miracles to prove his identity, Jesus heals the official’s child and the word of this miracle spreads.
If Jesus is worried that his miracles are a distraction from his gospel, why does he heal the dying child? Why reinforce this faithless clamoring for signs and wonders by performing more signs and wonders? Could Jesus look into the eyes of the terrified father and deny him? Could he sit there with this man and tell him, “I will not heal your child b/c all these signs and wonders are distracting you from believing in me”? No, of course not. Notice carefully that the father believes Jesus’ word before the miracle is confirmed. This man begs Jesus for the life of his child not for a sign that Jesus is God. And this is why Jesus gives him his miracle.
When we thrill at reports that consecrated hosts are bleeding, or that rosaries are turning to gold in the presence of a Marian apparitation, what are we asking of God? What need are we confessing when our hearts leap at news of the allegedly miraculous? Are we running after supernatural confirmation in order to ease some lingering doubts? Are we hoping to soothe some fear, some worry by investing our trust in a remote possibility, some off-chance wonder?
We do not have to run after signs and wonders—not the kind reported in the tabloids anyway—b/c, first, the greatest sign, the grandest wonder we have as Catholics will occur on that altar in the next ten minutes: the sacrifice of the Mass; second, we don’t have to run after signs and wonders b/c we ourselves are signs and wonders, we ourselves constitute revelations of God to one another. Incomplete individually, yes. More perfect together, absolutely. We are here this morning at the prompting of the Holy Spirit and gathered in Christ name, that’s hope, that’s faith!
Thrill then at being here in the presence of Christ as a sign of God’s love, as a wonder who unveils his mercy, who reveals all the possibilities of his fatherly grace to everyone you meet today. That’s what we do as a people of the Cross and the Empty Tomb.
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert the Great Priory, Irving, TX
Hear it!
Why do we flock to churches where an image of the Blessed Mother is allegedly weeping? Why do we thrill over stories out of New Orleans that entire churches were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina, yet the statues of Our Lady of Prompt Succor were spared? And more recently, our Catholic papers and blogsites were loaded with reports that a consecrated host in this very diocese was found bleeding in a glass of water.
Signs and wonders, signs and wonders. Why do we thrill at these reports? Why do seek to be shown that which we already know to be true? When Jesus says in this morning’s gospel, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe,” are we the “you people” he’s talking about? I can confess here and now that there are times when I find myself seeking signs and wonders, wanting something unusual, something otherworldly as a sign of God’s presence, as a signal that He is working in my life. In some ways this desire grows out of our very natural desire to be with God, to seek Him out and dwell with Him forever. But we cannot get away from Jesus’ exasperation: you will not believe unless I show you something miraculous, something wondrous. You can almost hear him sigh.
You can hear the impatience of the anxious father, “Sir, come down before my child dies.” Jesus is worried that the people of Israel aren’t hearing his word, that they aren’t hearing him as The Word, and thus clamoring for signs and wonders as proof that he is who he says he is. The father is worried about his dying child. Despite his fretting about the people’s need for miracles to prove his identity, Jesus heals the official’s child and the word of this miracle spreads.
If Jesus is worried that his miracles are a distraction from his gospel, why does he heal the dying child? Why reinforce this faithless clamoring for signs and wonders by performing more signs and wonders? Could Jesus look into the eyes of the terrified father and deny him? Could he sit there with this man and tell him, “I will not heal your child b/c all these signs and wonders are distracting you from believing in me”? No, of course not. Notice carefully that the father believes Jesus’ word before the miracle is confirmed. This man begs Jesus for the life of his child not for a sign that Jesus is God. And this is why Jesus gives him his miracle.
When we thrill at reports that consecrated hosts are bleeding, or that rosaries are turning to gold in the presence of a Marian apparitation, what are we asking of God? What need are we confessing when our hearts leap at news of the allegedly miraculous? Are we running after supernatural confirmation in order to ease some lingering doubts? Are we hoping to soothe some fear, some worry by investing our trust in a remote possibility, some off-chance wonder?
We do not have to run after signs and wonders—not the kind reported in the tabloids anyway—b/c, first, the greatest sign, the grandest wonder we have as Catholics will occur on that altar in the next ten minutes: the sacrifice of the Mass; second, we don’t have to run after signs and wonders b/c we ourselves are signs and wonders, we ourselves constitute revelations of God to one another. Incomplete individually, yes. More perfect together, absolutely. We are here this morning at the prompting of the Holy Spirit and gathered in Christ name, that’s hope, that’s faith!
Thrill then at being here in the presence of Christ as a sign of God’s love, as a wonder who unveils his mercy, who reveals all the possibilities of his fatherly grace to everyone you meet today. That’s what we do as a people of the Cross and the Empty Tomb.
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