Jesus Marvelled

“I say to you in truth,” said our Messiah at His hometown of Nazareth, “there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the sky was shut up for three years and six months, when a great famine came over all the land; and yet Elijah was sent to none of them, but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And there were many lepers in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet; and none of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian” (Lk. 4:24-27). Of the same lot of people to whom Jesus spoke to it is written: And He did not do many miracles there because of their unbelief (Mt. 13:58).

We all know the story of the Roman centurion who came up to our Lord Jesus and implored Him to heal his servant who was lying paralysed and fearfully tormented, “Lord, I am not worthy for You to come under my roof, but just say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to this one, ‘Go!’ and he goes, and to another, ‘Come!’ and he comes, and to my slave, ‘Do this!’ and he does it” (Mt. 8:8-9). How Jesus reacted has always challenged me; for it is written: Now when Jesus heard this, He marvelled and said to those who were following, “Truly I say to you, I have not found such great faith with anyone in Israel” (Mt. 8:10).

In the story of the ten lepers it is written of the one who turned back to thank the Healer: When he saw that he had been healed, turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice, and he fell on his face at His feet, giving thanks to Him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus answered and said, “Were there not ten cleansed? But the nine—where are they? Was no one found who returned to give glory to God, except this foreigner” (Lk. 17:15-17)?

There are probably more such anecdotes but sufficient would it be if I write of just one more. Here was a woman, a gentile, of the Syrophoenician race, whose daughter had an unclean spirit. She kept asking the Master to cast the demon out of her daughter. The answer our Lord gave her was stunning. If I was the woman, I would probably have left the place hurt and offended. But the woman was not me. She showed exemplary faith and humility. Hear then what transpired after the woman kept imploring for help: Jesus said to her, “Let the children be satisfied first, for it is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered and said to Him, “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs under the table feed on the children’s crumbs.” And He said to her, “Because of this answer go; the demon has gone out of your daughter” (Mk. 7:25-29).

What can we glean from these stories?—that the children of Abraham had the promises; they had the favour and blessings; they had the knowledge and the miracles and the Word, yet they could not receive the precious things that God wanted to do for them. Contrary to this unbelief, in each of the examples above, the ones who were the so-called “outsiders” had a simple, unyielding faith that saw the glory of God and believed Him with a simplicity that singled them out as extraordinary. 

Thanks to the reconciliation of Jesus Christ, who through the cross has broken every dividing wall between Jew and gentile; we too are now children of promise. We who were far away, cut off from the commonwealth of Israel are now brought near (Eph. 2:11-16) and grafted into her—a wild olive branch into the cultivated olive tree (Rom. 11:20-24). The blessings of Abraham as God’s chosen people are ours to enjoy through Jesus Christ (1Pet. 2:9-10).

Yet familiarity breeds contempt. To my mind, familiarity is like a curse. It robs us of the freshness of pure devotion and simplicity of faith. Familiarity tends to reason: Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not His mother called Mary, and His brothers, James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? And His sisters, are they not all with us? Where then did this man get all these things (Mt. 13:55-56)? 

Familiarity causes us to take things for granted. We listen to or read the same scripture over and over again and instead of it reviving our spirits with the freshness of cool summer dew, God’s word becomes a boring routine. Instead of coming to the Holy Spirit and asking Him to open our eyes to the deep, hidden truth that is there in the word and letting the text come alive to our spirits; we settle down to fulfilling a “Christian requirement”. We only need to listen to the prayers we make. They are predictable. The sentences are almost identical to the ones we used the last time we spoke to God. Do we do this in our conversation with others—speak the same things over and over again? 

This is what happened to the Jews of that time. They had the Torah. They had the God-appointed festivals that reminded them of the great and marvellous things that God had done for them. The Psalms were filled with the awesome glory and faithfulness of God. The Prophets had innumerable promises that sought to woo the Israelites back to the Lover of their souls. Yet, the glory of their relationship with God was replaced with ritualistic prayers and sacrifices. Are Christians guilty of this too? Has not the fellowship of intimate conversation been replaced with Christian jargon and standard prayer phrases?

I keep hearing it preached that God has not called us to a religion but to a relationship with Him. Oh, yes! I believe this with all my heart and cherish the mercy bestowed on me to enter into such a relationship. But we must be on our guard lest the crafty serpent rob us of the simplicity and purity of devotion and faith we can enjoy with Jesus. Love is the underlining word that defines our relationship with the Triune God. Love savours the beauty of the Person we are enraptured with. Love constantly thinks on and admires the glory of the One who has captivated our hearts. From such a relationship flows obedience; but also exemplary faith. Jesus marvelled at the centurion and the others. Can He us?