Confession: Sometimes I want to throw Jesus off a cliff. When Jesus highlights the fact that there are a bunch of people out there who are suffering, but that God only decides to intervene in a few of their lives for the better, that wild impulse comes on strong. My mother died of lung cancer in 2011. She was diagnosed in 2008. In 2008, the five-year survival rate for lung cancer hovered around 1 in 5. So, there was an 80% chance my mother would die before 2013. And she did. That’s how life and death works in our world, and I understand that. Of course, everyone who loves anyone with a fatal disease prays and hopes that their loved one is one of the 20% who live beyond five years. But the odds are not in favor of such an outcome. I can accept that. I can accept that until Jesus, who has exhibited the power to heal, stands in front of me and tells me, in an off-the-cuff sort of way, that there were many with a skin disease in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them were cleansed except Naaman the Syrian (v. 27). I can accept the reality of random death, but when Jesus preaches that there were five women with lung cancer and God plucked one of them – specifically, not my mother – to be healed, I am filled with rage. ...
Thank you to this week's writer Walter Canter. Read the rest of the commentary on the website. |
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