During Lent, it was strongly suggested that we read the Bible - particularly Matthew, Genesis, and Psalms. I am still in Mathew, plodding slowly, for little is new and the style is not made for the Best Seller list, but more than a few things have jumped out anyway. Last night, it was time to read painfully of the Crucifixion, when I came upon these words: "Immediately one of them ran to get a sponge; he soaked it in wine, and putting it on a reed, gave it to him (Jesus) to drink. But the rest said, "Wait, let us see if Elijah comes to save him." And: "The centurion and the men with him who were keeping watch over Jesus feared greatly when they saw the earthquake and all that was happening, and they said, "Truly, this was the Son of God!"
One does not have to believe in the divinity of Jesus or even the exact circumstances of the Crucifixion to get the idea here that people certainly felt that something strange was going on. In fact, one does not have to believe that the story is correct at all to understand that the people of this era - both Roman and Jew - were highly susceptible to the idea of gods appearing on this earth. Yes, all those in power, from the Roman government to the Jewish high priests, were skeptical, even sarcastic, about the possibility that a poor man who could be so humbled could possibly be the Son of God. That is natural, for those of yesterday as well as today, for the maker of heaven and earth should logically appear in grandeur. But even so, the Jewish people waited before the cross, still alive to the possibility that Jesus could be lifted into heaven at any moment by Elijah, and after the trembling of earth and the darkening of skies, even the Roman soldiers were filled with dread and awe and a certainty that the man they had killed was more than a man after all.
Would we be so possessed? If a man had traversed this country in his minivan, reportedly healing the sick, and if his followers declared that he was the Son of Man, would we wait for another Elijah at the news that his van had been run off the road by an 18 wheeler, and that he was now in critical condition? If the Earth shook and the skies darkened over the area just after he died, all on national news, would we say, "Truly, this was the Son of God?"
I do not know. When this first occurred to me, the answer seemed easy - of course we wouldn't! We are too logical and skeptical for that nowadays. After all, the Jews believed that God had spoken to them many times and that Elijah had flown to heaven in his chariot, and the Romans still sacrificed animals and lit fires to their many gods for divine favors. Yes, there are those among us, many of us, who still do the same, but they do not run the networks; they do not prod us in the national direction like Big Media does, and there is little doubt that Big Media would soon have the late night comedians making jokes, ridiculing anyone who still believed in such a thing, earthquakes or no, just as they would do with the woman who saw the Virgin in a piece of toast.
Oddly, the words of Christ were to form the largest overall religion in the world, which is certainly proof of something, but my answer to the question would now be this: while the people of Jesus's time might have been more superstitiousl, in lasting effect they are no different than we are now. It was at least told that Jesus healed the sick and even rose the dead - and fed 1,000's from nothing as well - and yet, still there was doubt and ridicule, even in his time and place. The infamous words of Thomas doubting the resurrection - "Not till I put my hands in his wounds will I believe" - came from a man who had SEEN the miracles, and who had followed the man that caused peril to Thomas's very life. Even he doubted, and such is the story: no matter what we experience, we are most likely to lose that experience with time; we are more likely than not to sink back into the flat world of our peers even though we have witnessed miracles.
In retrospect, I, like all of us, have experienced little miracles - how I survived certain episodes in life, how my profession and married life and child came about, how the right house was chosen at the right time, and so on - and yet still I doubt. More so, it is given to me to experience almost weekly, and sometimes even more, brief periods when the world fills with beauty and meaning and I understand in a way that seems far beyond normal understanding, and certainly beyond description. Yet when I am in "dry' periods, I quickly forget it all and pass it off as some genetic abnormality akin to episodic schizophrenia. And yet the feeling is not filled with monsters or angels, just a deeper understanding, no odder than an adult's view of politics compared to that of a child. Still, I disbelieve even what I regularly believe.
So it is that only faith and faith alone in this world truly works. But what to have faith in? Do we respect the wisdom of the elders, or "feelings" that seem to promise deeper understanding? Or do we cast off the elders for something new, or disallow our knowledge through feelings for some rational formula, like the Scholastics arguing about angels on the head of a pin? Perhaps it is what the mystics say - that we must empty ourselves of all notions to receive that which, somewhere, we already know - and in this recognition, it will come to be known and believed.
Then again, perhaps it should be left to the seeking individual. But one thing is oddly, and sadly, certain: miracles will not make the world believe. Existence itself is a miracle; it seems that by refusing to see this in our everyday lives, we lose the ability to believe anything beyond our veil. But maybe it is with just that - a belief that even our humdrum lives are living miracles - true faith will follow. FK
One does not have to believe in the divinity of Jesus or even the exact circumstances of the Crucifixion to get the idea here that people certainly felt that something strange was going on. In fact, one does not have to believe that the story is correct at all to understand that the people of this era - both Roman and Jew - were highly susceptible to the idea of gods appearing on this earth. Yes, all those in power, from the Roman government to the Jewish high priests, were skeptical, even sarcastic, about the possibility that a poor man who could be so humbled could possibly be the Son of God. That is natural, for those of yesterday as well as today, for the maker of heaven and earth should logically appear in grandeur. But even so, the Jewish people waited before the cross, still alive to the possibility that Jesus could be lifted into heaven at any moment by Elijah, and after the trembling of earth and the darkening of skies, even the Roman soldiers were filled with dread and awe and a certainty that the man they had killed was more than a man after all.
Would we be so possessed? If a man had traversed this country in his minivan, reportedly healing the sick, and if his followers declared that he was the Son of Man, would we wait for another Elijah at the news that his van had been run off the road by an 18 wheeler, and that he was now in critical condition? If the Earth shook and the skies darkened over the area just after he died, all on national news, would we say, "Truly, this was the Son of God?"
I do not know. When this first occurred to me, the answer seemed easy - of course we wouldn't! We are too logical and skeptical for that nowadays. After all, the Jews believed that God had spoken to them many times and that Elijah had flown to heaven in his chariot, and the Romans still sacrificed animals and lit fires to their many gods for divine favors. Yes, there are those among us, many of us, who still do the same, but they do not run the networks; they do not prod us in the national direction like Big Media does, and there is little doubt that Big Media would soon have the late night comedians making jokes, ridiculing anyone who still believed in such a thing, earthquakes or no, just as they would do with the woman who saw the Virgin in a piece of toast.
Oddly, the words of Christ were to form the largest overall religion in the world, which is certainly proof of something, but my answer to the question would now be this: while the people of Jesus's time might have been more superstitiousl, in lasting effect they are no different than we are now. It was at least told that Jesus healed the sick and even rose the dead - and fed 1,000's from nothing as well - and yet, still there was doubt and ridicule, even in his time and place. The infamous words of Thomas doubting the resurrection - "Not till I put my hands in his wounds will I believe" - came from a man who had SEEN the miracles, and who had followed the man that caused peril to Thomas's very life. Even he doubted, and such is the story: no matter what we experience, we are most likely to lose that experience with time; we are more likely than not to sink back into the flat world of our peers even though we have witnessed miracles.
In retrospect, I, like all of us, have experienced little miracles - how I survived certain episodes in life, how my profession and married life and child came about, how the right house was chosen at the right time, and so on - and yet still I doubt. More so, it is given to me to experience almost weekly, and sometimes even more, brief periods when the world fills with beauty and meaning and I understand in a way that seems far beyond normal understanding, and certainly beyond description. Yet when I am in "dry' periods, I quickly forget it all and pass it off as some genetic abnormality akin to episodic schizophrenia. And yet the feeling is not filled with monsters or angels, just a deeper understanding, no odder than an adult's view of politics compared to that of a child. Still, I disbelieve even what I regularly believe.
So it is that only faith and faith alone in this world truly works. But what to have faith in? Do we respect the wisdom of the elders, or "feelings" that seem to promise deeper understanding? Or do we cast off the elders for something new, or disallow our knowledge through feelings for some rational formula, like the Scholastics arguing about angels on the head of a pin? Perhaps it is what the mystics say - that we must empty ourselves of all notions to receive that which, somewhere, we already know - and in this recognition, it will come to be known and believed.
Then again, perhaps it should be left to the seeking individual. But one thing is oddly, and sadly, certain: miracles will not make the world believe. Existence itself is a miracle; it seems that by refusing to see this in our everyday lives, we lose the ability to believe anything beyond our veil. But maybe it is with just that - a belief that even our humdrum lives are living miracles - true faith will follow. FK
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