Everyday Miracles

The 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

Just last week, there was a story in the news about Father V. M. Thomas, a Catholic missionary priest in India. One day last February, he woke up in excruciating pain. He went to the doctor and found out that he was suffering from a half-inch kidney stone blocking his lower urinary tract. When the usual, non-invasive treatments didn’t work, surgery was scheduled for September 6 to remove the stone. The day before the procedure was the tenth anniversary of the death of Mother Teresa. Father Thomas offered mass and asked the people to pray for him, especially through Mother Teresa’s intercession. Lo and behold, when the radiologist took a final presurgical x-ray, he couldn’t locate the kidney stone. The doctors then tried looking for it with an ultrasound, which also was negative. The stone was gone. Fr. Thomas is convinced that Mother Teresa is responsible for his amazing cure. He calls it a miracle.

Do you believe in miracles? I do. I definitely think that God’s magic still happens. In fact, it happens so often that our senses—miracles in themselves—aren’t even able to keep up. No matter how hard we try, we just can’t experience all the wonder around us. We grow numb to the extraordinary world that surrounds us.

Several people have told me that if you ever cruise through the Norwegian fjords or the glacier route of Alaska, you will experience some of God’s most miraculous beauty. I know first-hand that if you walk on the beach at sunset, it’s easy to believe in miracles. It’s easy to praise God for the glory of living and creation.

The trouble is, most of our moments aren’t spent in such idyllic settings. We rush through our daily lives being jostled and hassled and pushed by others who are also in a hurry. We struggle with bothersome inconveniences, stressing ourselves out trying to meet human deadlines. And we do it all in surroundings that bore us with their familiarity.

So not only do we long for miracles, but we want them to be so dramatic that they can’t be ignored. We want them to be quick, big, and complete—just like in the gospel today: ten dudes with leprosy, 100% healed on the spot. Or, in a more personal context: Dad’s cancer is all gone… Mom’s Alzheimer’s is better… I hit all the Lotto numbers and the check is in the mailbox; wait, I’m opening it as we speak. Bang! The miracle has occurred.

But actually, our Savior fills our daily lives with constant, quiet miracles. Flip a switch on the wall, and we have light. Put on glasses, and we see. Punch a few buttons on a phone, and we hear a friend. Or if you punch the buttons on an ATM, cash comes out. The fact that the medical world took centuries to defeat polio doesn’t make the victory any less of a miracle.

I was reading a commentary written by a biblical scholar and theologian. He wrote that a miracle doesn’t typically come by sitting around idly waiting for God to do it all. It comes from the cooperation of our faith-filled effort with God’s unlimited grace.

Sometimes our part is just noticing a need and praying—just like Father Thomas did with his kidney stone or the lepers asking Jesus for pity. Sometimes our part is simply opening up our senses to what God is doing around us. If the leper hadn’t looked at his body and his companions’, how would he have known that Jesus had cleansed them?

It’s kind of interesting. Jesus told the lepers to go show themselves to the priests so they could be declared clean. They’ve all been healed. They’re all free to go their own way. But one is turning back to seek out Jesus and to thank and praise God.

Ah, here’s another miracle: this man is truly healed, because now he wants to begin to relate to God rather than just hurry off to seek pronouncement from the priests. Not only has his body been healed, but his eyes have been opened to the source of the awesome blessing he has received. Maybe we can say that his miracle has been magnified—tripled, actually.

All of us are created in body, mind and spirit. Likewise, any healing takes place not only in the body, but also in the mind and spirit. The leper’s body was fixed… he realized it in his mind… and as a result, he now sought the spiritual connection with God.

It’s the same with us. The direction my life takes is far different if I don’t relate to God when my body is healed or if some other bit of good fortune takes place in my physical world. I can choose to go my way, or I can choose to go God’s way. Of course, with our free will—another miracle in itself—it’s up to us to decide.

Think about the leper who turned back toward Jesus. Imagine yourself turning back from your own plans for today or Monday morning. Take a moment to thank God and give praise for the many blessings you have experienced at all levels—body, mind and spirit—as you start off today’s journey toward a deeper relationship with God. I think you’ll find that it is truly miraculous.