During the 1980 Lake Placid Olympics, the young Al Michaels had the honor of calling the most memorable moment in the history of ice hockey--possibly Olympic history itself--as the American squad triumphed over the Russians in their semi-final matchup. Herb Brooks, the now legendary coach of the US team, had somehow compiled a group of amateurs (America had not yet allowed professional hockey players to compete in the games), who found a way defeat a Russian team that was considered invincible.
If you haven't seen the ending, it's worth the price of admission: click to watch
As I prepare for an upcoming message over the miracles of Jesus, it strikes me how broadly that the term can be applied. Anything, from newborn babies and sunrises to healings and hockey games, can be defined as a miracle. Most commonly, I suppose, a miracle is seen as an interruption or departure from the natural laws that govern the cosmos in order to bring about an otherwise unlikely conclusion.
But I'm not sure that we want to relegate miracles to the paranormal sphere.
The more we learn about the Universe, including the vast complexity of outer space and the intricacies within each cell and atom, we come face to face with innumerable miracles that undergird our everyday reality. For us to define miracles as exceptions to the norm would be to assume that the norm is not miraculous in and of itself. That would be a mistake.
On the other hand, Jesus performs a fair share of miracles that are defined in scripture as 'signs,' or acts which point to a greater reality. While Jesus would surely remind us of the majesty woven into every fiber of creation, He also saw a need to point to the future through the use of these 'signs,' to a coming age in which everything will be precisely as the Creator intends.
In this light, Jesus' miracles function not as magic tricks or interruptions to natural laws, but as previews that point to a time when the nature of the specific miracle becomes reality on the grandest of scales. The healing of a blind man points to the day in which all believers will finally see Him face to face. The casting out of a demon forecasts the time when all sin and evil are jettisoned from God's world. And the raising of a little girl from the dead shines a radiant shaft of light toward the glorious moment when God commands His dead saints to rise triumphant. And of course, every miracle of Jesus was meant to point to Him as the means through which this future reality is coming about. His cross is the fulcrum, the funnel through which the Old Order fades and the New gains momentum like a gathering storm.
Al was right to ask if we believe in miracles, and I hope that your answer is yes. And I hope you see miracles wherever they exist--in your heartbeat and brainwaves, your family, your body, the incredible universe, and on top of all that, in the signs that Jesus both did and does in order to lift our eyes toward His advancing Kingdom.
Do you believe in miracles? I'm with Al and Jesus on this one.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
The Good News is both Good and News: Discuss
In the Golden Age of Saturday Night Live, they had a skit called "Coffee Talk," where Mike Myers played a flamboyant talk show host who regularly posed paradoxical phrases for discussion. Example are "Rhode Island is neither a road nor an island. Discuss!" Or "The peanut is neither a pea nor a nut. Discuss."
You get the idea.
What about the "Gospel" or "Good News" that we celebrate on Good Friday and Easter Sunday? The phrase comes from the Old English god (good) and spell (tidings, story, or message). But it has even deeper roots in the New Testament Greek word euangelion (eu = good; angelion = tidings). In ancient times, messengers would carry important news over great distances, like the outcome of a battle. Kings would anxiously wait for the 'evangelist' to arrive, hoping to hear good news.
If Mike Myers were in costume during Holy Week, I don't think he could resist this phrase, because in many places, the Good News is neither presented as Good nor as News. It's often narrowly treated as a warning, a threat, or a bomb waiting to go off. It's constantly characterized as an ancient relic that does nothing but collect dust on the shelf of history.
So crab a cup of java and find a quiet place to think. What makes the Good News both Good and News? How can something that happened 2000 years ago mean transformation, joy and hope for me today?
The Good News is both Good.... and... News. Discuss!
You get the idea.
What about the "Gospel" or "Good News" that we celebrate on Good Friday and Easter Sunday? The phrase comes from the Old English god (good) and spell (tidings, story, or message). But it has even deeper roots in the New Testament Greek word euangelion (eu = good; angelion = tidings). In ancient times, messengers would carry important news over great distances, like the outcome of a battle. Kings would anxiously wait for the 'evangelist' to arrive, hoping to hear good news.
If Mike Myers were in costume during Holy Week, I don't think he could resist this phrase, because in many places, the Good News is neither presented as Good nor as News. It's often narrowly treated as a warning, a threat, or a bomb waiting to go off. It's constantly characterized as an ancient relic that does nothing but collect dust on the shelf of history.
So crab a cup of java and find a quiet place to think. What makes the Good News both Good and News? How can something that happened 2000 years ago mean transformation, joy and hope for me today?
The Good News is both Good.... and... News. Discuss!
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