Category: miracles

Accounts of the Resurrection of Jesus

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When I was in high school, I began believing in Jesus, thanks to the Jesus Movement. I also delivered flowers, thanks to Carol, who owned a flower shop. Another high school student, Lonnie, had recently died in a vehicular accident. My assignment was to deliver several flower arrangements to the funeral home, about twenty miles away in Espanola.

Entering the funeral home, I found myself in a large room. It was empty, except for Lonnie’s body in an open casket. Sad that he had died so young, and eager to put my faith to work, I thought for a minute and then approached the casket. In a clear voice, I said, “Lonnie, rise up in the name of Jesus.” He didn’t budge. I said it again, louder. He still did not move. Feeling uneasy, thinking I had gone out of my depth, I set up the flowers and left, pondering what had just not happened.

More consequentially, Jesus did rise from the dead after being entombed for three days. It was necessary to fulfill the prophesies of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms. His bodily resurrection was what declared Jesus “to be the Son of God with power”(Romans 1:4 KJV). His resurrection was necessarily confusing. We can see fear, confusion, disbelief, and wonder in the four accounts that struggle to put into words the series of events on that glorious day. The following attempts to settle a few questions and to point out a few extraordinary moments.

Put briefly, the four accounts differ in these ways:

  • Matthew focuses on Jesus’ promise that he will meet the disciples in Galilee after he rises from the dead
  • Mark reveals the sheer confusion of discovering that Jesus has risen from the dead
  • Luke focuses on validations of Jesus’ resurrection as they occurred in and around Jerusalem
  • John beautifully combines some of the Jerusalem appearances with the wonderful encounter at the Sea of Galilee

Matthew records this on the night of Jesus’ betrayal:

Then Jesus told them, “This very night you will all fall away on account of me, for it is written:
“‘I will strike the shepherd,
    and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’[1]
But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee” (Matthew 26:31-32).

On Sunday morning (the day after the Sabbath day), “Mary Magdalene and the other Mary” go “to look at the tomb” (Matthew 28). First they see an angel. It looks like lightning, its clothes are so bright. It says “go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’” So “the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid” (which is where Mark’s gospel ends) “yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples.” However, these women first encounter Jesus, who greets them. They “clasped his feet and worshiped him” (a scene we revisit in John, but with only Mary Magdalen named). As did the angel, Jesus tells the women, “Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” The next and last time we see Jesus in Matthew, “the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go.” He appears, giving them what is called the Great Commission.

Mark, as mentioned above, simply depicts the women (Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome) visiting the grave, seeing the angel and being told, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you’” (Mark 16). They run away, “Trembling and bewildered . . . They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.” The ending is an acquired taste. The ending casts doubt, not on the resurrection, but on the women’s capacity to absorb it. The ending is superbly human. It opens the door for the other gospels to fill in more details, to soften the shock of the turn of events. Love for Jesus, not belief in his resurrection, brought the women to the tomb. The resurrection caught them by surprise. It changed everything, rendering them momentarily helpless.

Luke provides collaborative details from several sources that report the resurrected Christ. Like Matthew and Mark, Luke begins with the women who visit the tomb. In this account, they observe two angels, and hear the unforgettable question, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” (Luke 24:1-12). They run and tell the “eleven” (the core group, minus Judas, who has died) and are met with disbelief, if not mockery. Peter, however, runs to the tomb and sees it is empty except for the burial clothes, leaving him confused.

Then comes the account of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. They are not the “eleven” but they are aware of the crucifixion and of the amazing accounts of the women. After meeting Jesus, listening to him, and, when he breaks bread, finally recognizing him, they hurry back to Jerusalem to tell the eleven (Luke 24:13-35). By the time they tell the eleven, Peter, too, has seen Jesus, but we are not told the circumstance.

When it is explained that Peter, too, has seen the Lord, Jesus himself appears in the locked room (Luke 24:36-53). He allows them to see the scars and he eats some fish to prove that he is not a ghost. He explains the prophecies that depict his death and resurrection, stressing that repentance for forgiveness will be preached to all nations. They will be witnesses, but must wait in the city until they receive “power from on high”—the fulness of the Holy Spirit revealed in Acts 2.

Without warning, Luke skips ahead 40 days to the ascension. The passage is short and beautiful, as it concludes the gospel of Luke:

When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God."

John brings together both Jerusalem and, about 80 miles away, Galilee. Mary Magdalene, again, is the first one to discover the empty tomb. In John’s account, both Peter and John run to the tomb. John wins the race to the tomb, but Peter has the courage to enter it first. Peter studies the strips of linen. John, then, enters the tomb, and when he sees, he believes. The text makes clear that even though he believes, their understanding is murky: “They still did not understand….”

Mary, then, has her beautiful encounter with Jesus. She doesn’t recognize him until she hears him speak her name, at which she replies “Rabboni,” which one scholar paraphrased as “My main man!” As with Matthew (where the women clasped Jesus’ feet), Mary must be told by Jesus to stop holding onto him, for he knew he would ascend to the father and she would need to hold onto him by faith alone (John 20:1-18).

Jesus appears twice in the locked room, the first time as narrated by Luke. The second time Thomas Didymus is there, and his skepticism is met by Jesus’ invitation to touch the scars in his hands and side. Thomas is overwhelmed and cries out, “My Lord and my God!” to which Jesus replies, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

The gospel seems to come to an end at this point, with the conclusive, “Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:19-31).

However, John has left the best wine for the last. His final chapter brings us to the Sea of Galilee (also called Tiberias). There Jesus meets seven of the eleven, first preparing breakfast while helping them catch 153 fish and then reinstating Peter as a leader.

The reinstatement of Peter involves a poetic dialogue by which Jesus both holds Peter accountable to his human condition and affirms him as the leader of the early church. In this dialogue, two different words for “love” are used. The first is agape, a word consistently implying unconditional love in the New Testament. The second word, phileo), most commonly refers to friendship or affection for both Aristotle and the New Testament.[2] Jesus initiates the conversation, using agape. Peter, truly humbled by his denial of Jesus, responds by claiming to have phileo love. By then end, Jesus meets Peter where he honestly is (a friend—phileo):

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me with perfect commitment (ἀγαπᾷς), more than these?”
“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you with fondness (φιλῶ).”
Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”
Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me with perfect commitment (ἀγαπᾷς)?”
He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you with fondness (φιλῶ).”
Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”
The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me with fondness (φιλεῖς)?”
Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me with fondness?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you with fondness (φιλῶ).”
Jesus said, “Feed my sheep” (John 21:1-17)

And that appears to be all it took for Peter to be reinstated. By owning that he loves Jesus deeply but not unconditionally, he is admitting the truth. As a result, he no longer trusts in his commitment to Jesus, but in the Lord’s commitment to him. He is prepared to preach the forgiveness of sins on the upcoming Day of Pentecost.

I close with a fifth account—the words Paul the Apostle wrote about the resurrection of Jesus. He came after the “eleven” but wrote his letter before the earliest gospel, Mark, was recorded. So in that respect, his account comes closest to the eye witnesses, and it is stunning:

For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas [Peter], and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born (1 Corinthians 15:3-8).

§ Footnotes §

[1] The prophecy is from Zechariah 13:7

[2] Some scholars make light of the play on words in the dialogue between Jesus and Peter. They do this, it appears, more on linguistic grounds than literary ones. They point out that on occasions in the New Testament, phileo also refers to divine love, such as when Jesus says “No, the Father himself loves (φιλεῖ) you because you have loved (πεφιλήκατε) me and have believed that I came from God” (John 16:27). The controversy strikes me as straining for gnats and turning down a free ride on a powerful camel. To both the literary ear and to the reader who has felt both Peter’s love and shame, the dialogue between Jesus and Peter clearly plays with those words in order to allow past hurts and promises to be healed by humility.

What I Learned through Spinal Stenosis

They have lost connection with the head, from whom the whole body, supported and held together by its ligaments and sinews, grows as God causes it to grow. (Colossians 2:19)

Before I was diagnosed, I spent months if not years struggling with my legs. They tired very easily and they felt wooden. Finally, I met with Andrea, a nurse practitioner. Somewhere during the exam, I had a revelation that I spoke aloud: When my hand or foot is asleep, all my muscles are there; they just cannot do much. Suddenly, I realized that my problem probably was not a lack of muscles, but of nerves. All the exercising I had been doing could not make me better, if the problem were in the nervous system.

Andrea did not need my revelation, but it concurred with her thoughts. At the end of the appointment, she assured me that what I was suffering was not normal aging, and she referred me to neurology. That led to Magnetic Resonance Images and X-rays. Both types of imaging showed my spinal column was pinching my spinal cord in my neck, causing partial paralysis. The good news was that the diagnosis ruled out multiple sclerosis. The bad news was that it required major neck surgery (discectomy with fusion).

I had a month to prepare for the surgery. Being a student of the good news taught and exemplified by Jesus, I sought a miraculous cure, a divine healing. This didn’t arise purely from cowardice. The surgery is indeed imperfect, whereas divine healing could undo all the damage that had occurred. As I write this, I do not know whether my healing will be divine or surgical. Even if surgical, I’m looking to the healing power of Jesus to make it more successful than usual.

Last night my conscience spoke to me: Louis, you are so inconsistent, applying your faith to your medical condition but not to your human condition. Believe for healing. Believe also for meaningful decisions all day long. Believe you can hear my voice at every juncture. There’s much more divine grace to go around than you realize.

For years, I have needed this realization, now galvanized by all the frustration my infirmity gives me. There’s a scripture in Isaiah that describes my worst moments, moments that occur when fatigued and discouraged: “your tormentors said to you, ‘Fall prostrate that we may walk on you.’ And you made your back like the ground, like a street to be walked on” (Isaiah 51:23). Surely, the creator who can touch the lame can guide me through better days and nights. While I’m believing for great health, why not believe for all the love and communication Jesus shared with his first disciples?

Perhaps the most important thing I’ve learned is the importance of our nervous system. No matter how healthy a limb might be, if it’s not connected to the head, it’s nearly useless. This is the metaphor Paul suggests in Colossians: Jesus is the head of the body; all who belong to him must get their signals from the head; the signals are delivered by the Holy Spirit.

Clearly the body of Christ is often missing the signals the head is sending. Instead of being guided by the head, many members follow their own impulses. To make a short list, some impulses lead to needless divisions, others to self-destructive behavior, and others to watered-down beliefs. There seems no more important task than to be sure we are connected to the head and to help others be so.

However I’m healed, I expect my limbs to respond much better to my brain, and I want my recovery to propel me on a lifelong course of helping members of Christ get better connected to the head.

Miracles Now or in Another Life?

I had met Kirk for breakfast. I liked him. We met on a water taxi from Belize to an island, Caye Caulker. We were now having breakfast at Amor y Cafe. Kirk is younger than I but still feeling the weight of his sixth decade of life. He observed that aging is not enjoyable. I concurred wholeheartedly, for that was the reason I had come to this island: to swim and hopefully regain some of my health.

I quickly added: “But then there’s Isaiah 65, 

Never again will there be in it
    an infant who lives but a few days,
    or an old man who does not live out his years;
the one who dies at a hundred
    will be thought a mere child

It is a verse I have been “claiming” in an approximate way, hoping that I have many good years ahead of me.

To this, Kirk quickly and confidently rejoined, “Ah, yes. The Millennium!”

I knew exactly what he meant: Christ would return someday, Satan would be imprisoned, and earth would be well for a thousand years. During that time, we will experience a wealth of miracles, all the healing imaginable.

If we had been keeping score, Kirk would get a point for allowing the statement about the hundred-year-old child to be true (even literally) and at the same time entirely futuristic. I’d get a point afterward for writing that the statement is hyperbolic. Whether someone lives to be a hundred this year or in the Millennium, there’s something rhetorical and exaggerative about calling that person “a child.” Similarly, if someone dies at, say, 95 years, calling that person “accursed” (as Isaiah 65 soon states) is equally hyperbolic. The obvious point of Isaiah 65 is that things will, at an unspecified time and under unspecified conditions, get incredibly better for people.

Enough of Isaiah 65 for now, beautiful as the vision is. Enough of Kirk, too—only because he had to leave the island the next day and I never questioned him further about his beliefs.

But the conversation we started at the cafe continued a debate within me. On one hand, I am one who believes miracles are for today. On the other hand, I looked at the advantages of those who believe miracles are for the Millennium.

I see miracles, especially healings, as part of our daily bread, the sort of thing Jesus illustrated while on earth, the thing the disciples illustrated after Jesus ascended, and the thing occasionally experienced, sometimes in crowds, sometimes alone, by people across the ages.

The other school, sometimes called dispensationalism, sees the one miracle of being born again as the miracle we can both count on and help manifest in our lifetime. Salvation, period. The physical miracles can wait until the Millennium.

Unlike Millennial thinkers, I cannot wait passively. If miracles, especially of healing, were needed and delivered to the people in Jesus’ Palestine, they are equally needed today. Yes, medicine does much, but medicine doesn’t come close to curing many, many ailments. Look at the disease stricken world and realize the need is greater than ever. The reason, I think, people join the Millennial school, is because they don’t understand why divine healings are so rare. When I am pressed for why miracles occur so rarely (few people I know have documentable divine healings), I think of the one thing for which Jesus criticized his disciples most frequently: disbelief.

If Peter had enough faith to get out of a boat and take a few steps on stormy water, began to sink, cried for help from Jesus, and was met by, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”—if that, then why in the world are we satisfied with our level of faith? Most of us are still sitting in the boat. Many of of us cry out for help. Few of us even imagine walking on water or doing anything that suggests that a great reality undergirds us.

I bring up disbelief because it was a problem among the disciples and is surely a problem among most modern “believers.” There is no condemnation in admitting one has disbelief, just as there’s no condemnation in admitting one has a past. We all need to start somewhere. The question isn’t, “Where did we start?” but “Where are we headed?”

Faith has little to do with with our will power and much more to do with what we are listening to. To become absorbed in the teachings of Jesus, including the prophetic voices of, say, Isaiah, is to be on the path to faith. Learning to see what is real for God (read Romans 8 for a sample) is learning to doubt our experiences and instead trust in the good news.

In conclusion, on one hand, I like the tidiness of Millennial thinking. The plan is to appreciate the miracle of being reconciled to God. Not only do we appreciate the one miracle but we also propagate it. We have churches that teach the gospel. We are all able to share in one capacity or another the gospel. Those who believe, start a new life with Jesus and our Father. Those that don’t may later. Someday we will die and experience much, much more. It’s beautiful.

It is beautiful! And I need to appreciate this vision. Of course the standard way of sharing the gospel needs constant tweaking. After all, it’s often preached to the choir. But beneath the cliches and rote understandings lie treasures that cannot be measured and shouldn’t be missed. Being born spiritually means never being alone again. It means always being in Christ, always being loved by God. It dwarfs about any other experience imaginable.

On the other hand (of my internal debate) I love the hope of the early gospel, the message that Jesus lives in us, that he is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I love the promises that whatever we ask in his name, we shall receive so that our joy may be full. And I love the occasional testimonies of those who were so ill that nothing could be done until the Spirit of God miraculously healed them. More than health, they gained a better knowledge of Jesus than otherwise possible.

So I do think I gained more appreciation of the purely spiritual salvation message that Kirk got me thinking about.

It in no way dislodged my appreciation of the physically miraculous.

I pay attention to all the stories of healing in the Bible, closely, as though I’m reading the news. Even when I’m not healed (and at the moment I’m imagining a divine touch), I’m coming closer and closer to learning God’s will. Just because things happen frequently in this world doesn’t mean God wills them. And just because things don’t happen, doesn’t mean God doesn’t will them. God’s will is revealed in Jesus, and it is expressed wherever there is faith and obedience. God’s will is wholesome, meaning God wants us whole, body, mind, and spirit. It will not be realized completely in this life—we all see through a darkly lighted mirror. But there’s not a bit of confusion of how Jesus treated sickness, never turning anyone away, always healing, always delivering.

Call me little faith, and I’m encouraged! If a little faith untangles God’s will from all the evil that happens, a little more faith will brings us in touch with the “God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not”—yes, the God who enabled geriatric Abraham and Sarah to give birth to a son (Romans 4:17).

Genuine Miracles (contributions welcome!)

What is a genuine miracle for the purpose of this post? The short answer is that it is one that I find convincing because (1) it is beneficial and (2) cannot be more easily explained as a natural occurrence.

The longer answer (but not dreadfully long) goes like this. On one hand, every thing is a miracle. But as soon as we admit that, the term loses its usefulness. Perhaps it’s better to say everything is a gift and some gifts are miraculous.

A physician’s report that says an individual recovered in spite of medical predictions would be bonafide in my mind, whether or not we knew that someone had prayed for that healing. Missing a flight or a ride that happened to culminate in an accident might be a miracle. Finding oneself in an airport and receiving a call from one’s grandmother warning one not to board the flight that did culminate in an accident would be an even more convincing example of divine intervention.

You get the idea: the less probable and the more helpful an otherwise difficult-to-explain event is, the more likely it is to be a miracle.

As a reminder, we believe in Jesus because his Father has revealed him to us (Matthew 16:16-18). That revelation—that conviction that Jesus is the Christ—is less tangible but more reliable than a reported miracle.

Even so, miracles that reveal the love and kindness of God deserve our attention. Frequently in the New Testament, they serve two purposes at the same time, to help the individual and to reveal the goodness and power of God (John 9:1-6).

In my experience, Christians talk about miracles and even imagine miracles far more often than they experience them. What counts as miracles here are experiences that cannot be more easily accounted for as coincidences or instances of random luck. Bonafide miracles in this context result from the Spirit of God somehow moving in this physical world to make a much-needed change.

So, if you will, in the comments below, please share any bonafide miracles you’ve witnessed. Please be as honest as you can. When I was in high school I told a friend my van had miraculously started running well. She told her dad. He was a skeptic. I stood my ground. The truth is, I didn’t mention that I had replaced a spark plug. This was something I didn’t even think about in my zeal. If I could go back in time, I’d simply thank God for the ability to put a new plug in my car and leave the miraculous out of the picture.

If I see a need to edit your comment, I’ll send you an email letting you know the reasons (for clarity and integrity). Let’s start with one of the few documented miracles in my life. There are many events that I think are divinely guided but they do not make compelling stories to outsiders.

Prayer is Not Begging and is More than Hoping

Listen to the old version of this post (10 minutes, 16 seconds)

Sitting on my couch, I looked at the name of a woman written on a piece of paper. We will call her Beautiful. It was a reminder to pray for her healing because her cancer had returned. I thought of all the people who were praying for Beautiful. Probably a hundred or so.

Beautiful died about a year later. And so I revise this post, soberly.

When I re-read the gospels, I never see Jesus begging, nor, when it comes to healing, hoping. When he announces the death of Lazarus to his disciples, he says, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up” (John 11:11). He does not, for example, say to the disciples, “and I hope to wake him up.” Nor when he is at the grave site does he say, “Father, I’d really like it if you raise Lazarus from the dead.” No, what does he say? “Lazarus, come forth.” And it happens.

Now I know this is a sensitive subject because when we pray for a healing (or a resurrection, which I have done with no success), the disappointment of someone or ourselves remaining sick is compounded by the disappointment of prayer or our faith being inauthentic. When that happens, we might doubt God’s existence, his character, or the accuracy of the New Testament. In the end of this scenario, we are left with a sickness (or death) and an imaginary God.

At that point, we often backpedal, and there are plenty of Christians and agnostics to help us do so. Because of my low opinion of this kind of help, I’ll deliver some of their consolation in a rambling sentence.

Healing miracles are rare because medical science has rendered them unnecessary, and you can’t expect to pray like Jesus, especially since all those miracles were to introduce the world to the gospel, not to be part of it, I mean, they symbolized our spiritual healing and nothing more, so we should be satisfied with inner healing and leave the rest up to God who, after all, would heal if he wanted to … look at the apostle Paul whose prayer for healing wasn’t answered and who concluded that in his weakness God’s strength was made perfect … who do we think we are to expect any more than Paul?

If you’ve been exposed to intelligent people of faith—or have read the New Testament with an eye on how faith and prayer are expressed—you’ll know the entire ramble is not in the scriptures.

Here are the counterpoints.

  • Medical science is in its adolescence; many diseases including cancer are often fatal, the blind to not have their sight restored, those with withered limbs do not, in a moment, regain a fully functional limb, and deafness is only partially addressed medically
  • Jesus never suggested that he was the only one with God’s ear; in fact he said, “Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12)
  • The miracles did introduce Jesus and his disciples to their world with a bang, yes, but nothing in the New Testament suggests the miracles were destined to stop at any point in time; the Book of Acts was apparently written 50 or so years after Jesus left the earth, and nothing in it suggests that the divine show of healing had ended or would end
  • It’s always suspicious when any miracle of God—any show of the supernatural in Christianity—is watered down to something humans can do, something that no longer requires a miracle; thus, saying “spiritual healing is all that Jesus was trying to point us to,” or saying “inner healing is more important than physical healing” is, what shall I say, suspicious? so suspicious that the people who say such things would do better to publish self help books
  • My ire is raised by the idea that God would heal if he wanted to: who in this world would say the vast amount of sickness, let alone violence, is what God wants?
  • Finally, for the low hanging fruit, Paul’s unanswered prayer: if you read the passage in II Corinthians 12, where Paul asks three times for God to remove the thorn from his flesh, you see that in the previous paragraphs, he listed the persecutions he endured (much more frequently than his fellow apostles), that it makes sense that persecution was the messenger from Satan that humbled him since he had received so great a revelation of Christ…besides, in light of those revelations, even if Paul were talking about his alleged bad eyesight, how many sick people have ever needed humbling because of the greatness of the revelation they had received?

Back to my couch and to Beautiful. She had many (many) people praying for her. She did live a year longer, but left the world too soon. If the number of people praying worked like addition, the healing power would be great, but faith is not like arithmetic. One plus God is a majority. One person with faith can be in a crowd and God will look over the crowd to find that person (2 Chronicles 16:9a). When Jesus went to raise the little girl from the dead, he allowed only three disciples the the girl’s parents into the room…and he healed her.

I have no idea what kind of prayers were spoken on behalf of Beautiful. I do know the kind of prayer I received when I was about to be diagnosed for cancer. Going up to “the prayer team” after a lively service at a large Evangelical church, I explained my concerns to the mature couple who were appointed to pray for me. As soon as I expressed my desire for healing, the man said, “Well, we all have to die sometime.” And that was followed by his wife telling me about a motorcycle accident that injured her in a way she has never recovered from.

As soon as I could get away from their aura of disbelief, I headed to the parking lot and called my sister in another state in order to shake off the bad vibes from the prayer team. My sister speaks words of faith—and did that night. My healing came through successful surgery (not what I had hoped for, but a heap better than having to die sometime soon).

This post focuses on what prayer is not. When I write a sequel, by God’s grace, it will express, at least in part, what Jesus-inspired prayer is. I surmise it will involve the classic verse from Mark: “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” Until then, be well, speak well, pray from the heart and believe God knows what you need before you mention it.

 

Publishing Info
This post was first published on: July 30, 2022 at 22:46. If this article is significantly updated, the publication date beneath the title may change, just as it might change in order to bring current posts to the top (or bottom) of the directory.