Monday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Lectionary: 244

Jesus said to him,
“Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe.”
The royal official said to him,
“Sir, come down before my child dies.”
Jesus said to him, “You may go; your son will live.”
The man believed what Jesus said to him and left.

I like the stories of Jesus that reveal his impatience. I do not think of them as sinful imperfection. That would be blasphemy. But I see him as the Divinity who has chosen to become deeply mired in this complicated, messy, distrustful world. There are times when the troubles seem almost overwhelming. 
In every case where Jesus expresses impatience the human beings around him persist in their pleas for help:

• the Canaanite woman who begged him to hear her daughter and was rebuffed as a gentile dog;
• the man whose son was possessed by a demon and repeatedly threw himself into fire and water; and
• the Samaritan woman at the well who tried to seduce him.

The stories reveal to me the essential response that enables the divine intervention. Jesus does not float above human trouble, drifting from village to city to countryside occasionally zapping people with divine benevolence. 

Rather he is deeply involved in our sorry plight. This entanglement of human and divine substances forces an unexpected blessing. There is in these stories an apparently irresolvable tension -- like that between Republicans and Democrats -- that must be snapped by God's infinite resourcefulness. 

In today's story, Saint John reminds us that we must accept Jesus at his word before Jesus' authority can become effective. You'll recall that Saint Mark tells us he could work no miracles in his hometown because of their resolute unbelief. 

This impatient Jesus appears far more human to me. I am glad of his irritability because it demands that I sit up and pay attention to him. 

One time, many years ago, when I was confined to a mental hospital for depression, I took an evening walk with one of the nurses. Once again I fretted and worried that no one could pay my hospital bills. This had been going on for weeks. Finally she snapped, "Oh, shut up!" 

That got my attention! I feared the loss of such a kindly friend and I realized I was being a tiresome burden to everyone around me. The bills were paid by the government (because even in the 1980's Australia had a better health care system than the United States.) 

Since then I have learned to live with insoluble problems, pray out of my despair, and expect a miracle.