Like many Catholics (I imagine), I struggle with elements of the faith. These are not the struggles of one grappling with belief in the broad sense; I’m on board with the promises of Christ, the bodily presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and all that. No, my struggles are more an attempt to grapple with what it all means, of why certain things are. You see elements of this from early Christians in the Bible, trying to understand how soon Jesus would be returning, or why do bad things happen to good people. The Church does have answers – I recommend the Catechism of the Catholic Church as a great resource for official teachings – but often I find it more fruitful to puzzle through such things myself, and see where the reflection takes me.
I had one such question after today’s readings. Namely, where are the big miracles?
It was inspired by the reading from the First Book of Kings, recounting what’s basically a battle of faith between Elijah — whose trust was in the Lord — and the prophets of Baal. In one of the greatest taunts of the Bible, Elijah mocks them and their inability to summon fire through the “power” of their god: “Call louder, for he is a god and may be meditating, or may have retired, or may be on a journey. Perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.”
When it was Elijah’s turn, he built an altar in honor of God, and beseeched the Lord to answer his prayers. And He does so: “The LORD’s fire came down and consumed the burnt offering, wood, stones, and dust, and it lapped up the water in the trench.” The passage continues, describing the result of this blatant, miraculous happening: “Seeing this, all the people fell prostrate and said, ‘The LORD is God! The LORD is God!'”
In reflecting on this, I wondered: Where are the big miracles for us? I mean, if the idea is to bring us closer to God and restore our faith, wouldn’t a big, flashy miracle do the trick? Imagine the number of hits on a YouTube video: “Red Sea Parts Again!”
So, trying to wrap my mind around this, I thought about marriage – my own marriage and marriage in general.
My wife and I love each other. So, what’s the biggest, most “miraculous” declaration of our love that we’ve ever undertaken? It’s almost certainly our wedding day. Months in the planning, with considerable expense and effort at bringing family and friends together to celebrate our union, the Sacrament of Marriage that was also — because it was a full Mass — united in the Sacrament of the Eucharist. That’s about as big a deal as it can get!
But, even so, not all our friends and family were there for that big day. Obviously, our child wasn’t there for it. New friends we’ve made in the years since weren’t in attendance. So how do they know that we were even married? How do they know we love each other?
Well, we have accounts, photos, a video recording, documentation from the state. We have a great deal of proof that the wedding took place.
But how do people know that we still love each other? If this big, “miraculous” day was such a celebration of our love, why don’t we have our big “wedding day” again, as further “proof” of our love, and an opportunity for those who didn’t see it the first time to know that we mean business?
Of course, marriage doesn’t work that way. The ongoing declaration of our love is not in the bells-and-whistles proclamations before God, family, and friends that we’re going to love each other. It’s in the day-to-day living together, of continuing to love and support one another, of putting up with each other even when we’re getting on each others’ nerves. The proof isn’t in the wedding; otherwise, how would future generations know that we loved each other, if they weren’t there to witness it firsthand?
Of course, all of this sidesteps the issue that there are miracles, documented and real. (We’re just past the 100th anniversary of the Miracle of the Sun, in Fátima, witnessed by thousands.) The Church puts a lot of effort into tracking and verifying miracles; that’s how we can declare someone a saint! And in the timeframe of the Bible, lots of years passed between documented showstopping miracles there, too.
But that misses the point, in my mind. We have the proof that the miracles provided; it’s in the testimony of the Bible. We know Christ conquered death and opened the door to our eternal salvation; what miracle could possibly match that in scope?
In a lot of ways, each day is a miracle unto itself, for each of us. It falls to us to recognize the miracles we’ve encountered, the miracles the Church has documented, the miracles we know in our heart to be true. Matthew 12:38-41 gives a good encapsulation of this:
“Then some of the scribes and Pharisees said to [Jesus], ‘Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you.’ He said to them in reply, “An evil and unfaithful generation seeks a sign, but no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah the prophet. Just as Jonah was in the belly of the whale three days and three nights, so will the Son of Man be in the heart of the earth three days and three nights. At the judgment, the men of Nineveh will arise with this generation and condemn it, because they repented at the preaching of Jonah; and there is something greater than Jonah here.'”
Those who don’t want to believe in God’s miracles will be able to do so through the hardness of their hearts; no level of miraculous happenings will overcome the conscious effort to reject the Lord, in the same way that no amount of proof would be enough to “prove” that my wife and I love each other. Because “proof” attempts to assign a tangible measurement to intangible ideas like “faith” and “love.” But unlike our marriage — which comprises two flawed humans doing their best, and which it’s conceivable to fail — God’s plan for us is infallible, so long as we’re willing to believe and work for it.
The biggest miracle came two thousand years ago with the culmination of God’s plan in triumphing over death. Any other miracles — no matter how glorious or awe-inspiring they might be — would be just a reminder of Christ’s miraculous event. In the same way that looking at wedding photos can remind us of the Sacrament we were part of, so — too — can miracles we’ve experienced and heard about remind us of Jesus’ sacrifice . . . if our hearts are open to it.
Today’s readings: 1 Kgs18:20-39; Ps 16:1B-2AB,4,5AB,8,11; Mt 5:17-19
