Acts 3:16
And by faith in his (Jesus’) name, his name itself has made this man strong, whom you see and know; and the faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health in the presence of all of you.
This verse takes place during a healing of a man in Solomon’s Portico, accomplished by the Holy Spirit through Peter.
The man who was healed was a lifetime cripple who used to sit outside of the Temple every day and beg for alms. The pious folk knew him well, sneaking guilty glances as they made their way to the Temple, sometimes rattling a few coins into his can, sometimes not. And now here he was, “walking and leaping and praising God;” and so all who saw it were amazed at what had happened, for Peter seemingly had done what silver and gold could not: brought healing.
But the text is careful to point us away from Peter. This healing is not Peter’s responsibility: the responsibility lies elsewhere. Rather than any human power, “his (Jesus’) name itself has made this man strong.” Though Peter may have taken the man by a trembling hand and helped him to his feet, Peter did not heal; the name of Jesus put the strength into this man’s legs.
And yet human initiative did play some part in the healing. “By faith in his name,” we read that Jesus was able to make the man strong. The faith in Jesus seems to be some kind of key to healing; while it is not a guarantee of healing, it does seem as if the man’s faith has something to do with the fact he is able to be healed. The last statement seems to strengthen this idea: “the faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health…”
I wonder if there is not something here for us to realize in our own lives. First, we should know that we cannot heal all the hurts of our lives on our own. We can’t snap our fingers and make the pain of rejection or loneliness or failure go away. That is something that only God can do.
And yet we are not entirely powerless. It is up to us to live a life of faith in Christ. In a sense, a life of faith in Christ will allow His power to be made more clear in our lives. Like the cripple, faith guilelessly opens the door to the risen Christ and the power of His Spirit, and invites those guests to make their home in our heart. When this happens, we do begin to experience real healing.
This is an important question because it might just lead to our healing: what does it mean to live a life of faith in Christ? If faith is how we open our lives to God’s healing power, how do we live lives of faith?
It is not simply a matter of piety; nor is it just smiling through the pain. Faith is different than that.
Faith is having the unshakeable conviction that this God stuff is more real than the stuff we see every day. Faith knows even in the face of opposition that Christ is God made man, that he was crucified, dead and buried and yet he arose. Faith is, according to Hebrews 11:1, “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
How does this assurance heal us? I wonder if we realize how often our hurts are due to our inability to see beyond our world. So often, we hurt because others disapprove of us, or because we are limited in a way we weren’t formerly limited, or because an ambition is thwarted. These are indeed painful, but they also are mired in this world.
For example, consider when you get upset because another disapproves of you. This is rooted in a feeling of inadequacy: we do not believe we are unique children of God, loved with an unquenchable love, even though that is who God says we are. In that moment of pain, we believe we are the loser that other person thinks we are, and that’s what causes us to hurt so much.
The truly faithful person doesn’t fall for this. The faith-full person has an unshakeable conviction that he is not what anyone says he is; he is that unique child of God that God says he is. Though it cannot be seen or verified, the faithful person knows that God’s opinion is what counts and no person’s. So a person full of faith knows healing from the hurts that hold the rest of us down.
And so it behooves us to learn faith. We do this when we practice spiritual discipline, withdrawing from the culture to gain perspective on its flaws and absurdities. We do this when we praise God in the midst of trials, for this reminds us that God is real, not the trials.
This verse takes place during a healing of a man in Solomon’s Portico, accomplished by the Holy Spirit through Peter.
The man who was healed was a lifetime cripple who used to sit outside of the Temple every day and beg for alms. The pious folk knew him well, sneaking guilty glances as they made their way to the Temple, sometimes rattling a few coins into his can, sometimes not. And now here he was, “walking and leaping and praising God;” and so all who saw it were amazed at what had happened, for Peter seemingly had done what silver and gold could not: brought healing.
But the text is careful to point us away from Peter. This healing is not Peter’s responsibility: the responsibility lies elsewhere. Rather than any human power, “his (Jesus’) name itself has made this man strong.” Though Peter may have taken the man by a trembling hand and helped him to his feet, Peter did not heal; the name of Jesus put the strength into this man’s legs.
And yet human initiative did play some part in the healing. “By faith in his name,” we read that Jesus was able to make the man strong. The faith in Jesus seems to be some kind of key to healing; while it is not a guarantee of healing, it does seem as if the man’s faith has something to do with the fact he is able to be healed. The last statement seems to strengthen this idea: “the faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health…”
I wonder if there is not something here for us to realize in our own lives. First, we should know that we cannot heal all the hurts of our lives on our own. We can’t snap our fingers and make the pain of rejection or loneliness or failure go away. That is something that only God can do.
And yet we are not entirely powerless. It is up to us to live a life of faith in Christ. In a sense, a life of faith in Christ will allow His power to be made more clear in our lives. Like the cripple, faith guilelessly opens the door to the risen Christ and the power of His Spirit, and invites those guests to make their home in our heart. When this happens, we do begin to experience real healing.
This is an important question because it might just lead to our healing: what does it mean to live a life of faith in Christ? If faith is how we open our lives to God’s healing power, how do we live lives of faith?
It is not simply a matter of piety; nor is it just smiling through the pain. Faith is different than that.
Faith is having the unshakeable conviction that this God stuff is more real than the stuff we see every day. Faith knows even in the face of opposition that Christ is God made man, that he was crucified, dead and buried and yet he arose. Faith is, according to Hebrews 11:1, “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
How does this assurance heal us? I wonder if we realize how often our hurts are due to our inability to see beyond our world. So often, we hurt because others disapprove of us, or because we are limited in a way we weren’t formerly limited, or because an ambition is thwarted. These are indeed painful, but they also are mired in this world.
For example, consider when you get upset because another disapproves of you. This is rooted in a feeling of inadequacy: we do not believe we are unique children of God, loved with an unquenchable love, even though that is who God says we are. In that moment of pain, we believe we are the loser that other person thinks we are, and that’s what causes us to hurt so much.
The truly faithful person doesn’t fall for this. The faith-full person has an unshakeable conviction that he is not what anyone says he is; he is that unique child of God that God says he is. Though it cannot be seen or verified, the faithful person knows that God’s opinion is what counts and no person’s. So a person full of faith knows healing from the hurts that hold the rest of us down.
And so it behooves us to learn faith. We do this when we practice spiritual discipline, withdrawing from the culture to gain perspective on its flaws and absurdities. We do this when we praise God in the midst of trials, for this reminds us that God is real, not the trials.
posted by Rev. Michael Jordan at 7:12 PM
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