Armies of mystics could get lost in the spiritual metaphor of a blind man receiving sight from Jesus. I tend to see all of it in terms of God's gradually unfolding plan of covenant love. It goes together, of course. The better disposed we are toward God, the more we can participate, and help others to participate, in the plan of redemption and salvation.
I have always loved the creative tension of knowing that the other blind man (from John 9) didn't do anything personally to "deserve" the misfortune, and yet, we know that original sin is ultimately the cause of this, and other miseries.
There is no way that I am fully entering in to the mystery of that covenant love in Christ, but it unlocks the secret of suffering. No earthly misfortune can touch the glory we are to see in Christ! If faith gives you the eyes to see that, just take a moment to reflect on that.
My friend Jason Mraz (OK, I met him one time) sings in his first hit "The Remedy (I Won't Worry)" about a friend stricken with cancer, "And what kind of God would serve this?" It's a legitimate question, not easily brushed aside, especially in terms of its emotional resonance. Still, I would have to answer, "Love, who wills us to be with Him, to share in unfathomable joy." If Steph Curry or Kevin Durant knows that shooting 5000 free throws and running 6 miles in a day will win an NBA championship, they'll do it without a second's hesitation. And that's a glory, however great, that no one will remember, in a few weeks or months' time. What kind of glory compares to the tragedy of this life? I'll bet you never turned it around like that. In the darkest valleys, no one does. It's still true, and it's still a question worth turning around.
St. Paul in fact says the suffering isn't worth comparing to the glory. That raises the stakes even higher. But trust me, friends: Jesus has the cards.
I have always loved the creative tension of knowing that the other blind man (from John 9) didn't do anything personally to "deserve" the misfortune, and yet, we know that original sin is ultimately the cause of this, and other miseries.
There is no way that I am fully entering in to the mystery of that covenant love in Christ, but it unlocks the secret of suffering. No earthly misfortune can touch the glory we are to see in Christ! If faith gives you the eyes to see that, just take a moment to reflect on that.
My friend Jason Mraz (OK, I met him one time) sings in his first hit "The Remedy (I Won't Worry)" about a friend stricken with cancer, "And what kind of God would serve this?" It's a legitimate question, not easily brushed aside, especially in terms of its emotional resonance. Still, I would have to answer, "Love, who wills us to be with Him, to share in unfathomable joy." If Steph Curry or Kevin Durant knows that shooting 5000 free throws and running 6 miles in a day will win an NBA championship, they'll do it without a second's hesitation. And that's a glory, however great, that no one will remember, in a few weeks or months' time. What kind of glory compares to the tragedy of this life? I'll bet you never turned it around like that. In the darkest valleys, no one does. It's still true, and it's still a question worth turning around.
St. Paul in fact says the suffering isn't worth comparing to the glory. That raises the stakes even higher. But trust me, friends: Jesus has the cards.
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