“Do you not yet understand or comprehend? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes and not see, ears and not hear?”
Mk 8:17-18.
I was reading Mark’s Gospel, chapter 8, this afternoon. In it, the disciples (almost immediately after having witnessed Christ’s miracle of the multiplying the loaves) doubt how they will feed themselves on just one loaf of bread as they enter a region called Dalmanutha. Literally, this doubt comes right after they have witnessed Christ feed many on very little. When I read this, the first thought was, “how can they have been such dolts?”
Yet I do the same thing: when I judge people based on superficial information, only to find out there is a much deeper component to them and their actions; when I can’t see my way out of my problems through my own solutions; when I meet someone who seems “hopeless” in faith and I mentally write them off. In all of these situations, I forget God, the ready resource just waiting to be remembered. When I finally realize what I have done, I feel foolish, probably something like the disciples felt when Christ confronts them about their hard hearts. Why do I have eyes if I don’t use them, and ears if I won’t listen? At least I can take small comfort in being in good company—it’s clear that even the disciples were hardheads at times as well.
Yet Christ was infinitely patient with these disciples, as he is with us. He was firm in his reminders that they needed to move past their doubt and towards belief, but mercy and love were always there as well. When it finally dawns on me that I am relying on my own, inadequate, human abilities instead of turning to the infinite power of Christ, I feel like I’ve been given a firm reminder too. But then I also feel the mercy and love of Christ as I turn toward him for help.
For me, and probably for the disciples in this instance, it comes back to forgetting (perhaps even doubting?) the power of Christ. The disciples had a very clear human issue—one loaf of bread and many to feed. Their doubt clouded their experience of miracles in Christ’s presence. My human issues cloud the truth for me too. Again and again, I end up trying to fix a situation through human effort alone. And that equals frustration and failure. When God reminds me to soften my heart to his power, then solutions reveal themselves.
Mk 8:17-18.
I was reading Mark’s Gospel, chapter 8, this afternoon. In it, the disciples (almost immediately after having witnessed Christ’s miracle of the multiplying the loaves) doubt how they will feed themselves on just one loaf of bread as they enter a region called Dalmanutha. Literally, this doubt comes right after they have witnessed Christ feed many on very little. When I read this, the first thought was, “how can they have been such dolts?”
Yet I do the same thing: when I judge people based on superficial information, only to find out there is a much deeper component to them and their actions; when I can’t see my way out of my problems through my own solutions; when I meet someone who seems “hopeless” in faith and I mentally write them off. In all of these situations, I forget God, the ready resource just waiting to be remembered. When I finally realize what I have done, I feel foolish, probably something like the disciples felt when Christ confronts them about their hard hearts. Why do I have eyes if I don’t use them, and ears if I won’t listen? At least I can take small comfort in being in good company—it’s clear that even the disciples were hardheads at times as well.
Yet Christ was infinitely patient with these disciples, as he is with us. He was firm in his reminders that they needed to move past their doubt and towards belief, but mercy and love were always there as well. When it finally dawns on me that I am relying on my own, inadequate, human abilities instead of turning to the infinite power of Christ, I feel like I’ve been given a firm reminder too. But then I also feel the mercy and love of Christ as I turn toward him for help.
For me, and probably for the disciples in this instance, it comes back to forgetting (perhaps even doubting?) the power of Christ. The disciples had a very clear human issue—one loaf of bread and many to feed. Their doubt clouded their experience of miracles in Christ’s presence. My human issues cloud the truth for me too. Again and again, I end up trying to fix a situation through human effort alone. And that equals frustration and failure. When God reminds me to soften my heart to his power, then solutions reveal themselves.
No comments:
Post a Comment