Paralyzed people are lazy. They just sit around all day; some hardly even move a muscle. I saw one that was so lazy she had a motorized car that she controlled by breathing into a straw. How bad is that, too lazy to even push a button?
That is what it sounds like to me when people equate personal healing with personal faith. I cannot remember a time when someone asked me if I believed enough that felt like a gift, but always an accusation.
The following are my answers to the person who says “if you had more faith, God would heal (or bless, give a job to, find a spouse for, etc) you”
1. It is your fault
According to scripture (perhaps my least favorite way to begin a dialogue, but I will make an exception in this case) in Mark 2, it was the faith of the paralyzed man’s friends that caused Jesus to heal. So actually if YOU had more faith I would fine.
2. I don’t want to be healed
This one works best with personal healing and jobs. Simply say “No thanks, I like things this way,” and the conversation will end abruptly.
3. My faith is growing, not shrinking
No one likes to think about this one, but it seems the scriptures often equate faith with endurance, the ability to love and believe God in the midst of hard times. The problem is this gift, as it is called in James, is given only to those who suffer. Thus, if I were healed I would lose the training that suffering provides.
4. It takes more faith to not be healed
Which is harder, to believe I am loved by and special to God when He gives me what I want when I want it, or to not have what I want and still believe? The ones with the strongest faith believe in the relentless love of God in the midst of evidence to do otherwise.
5. I don’t believe this time
This may sound strange, but I don’t think God always does want to heal and I do not want to pester Him. When my children were little and asked why their sibling got something they did not, I would always say “because I love them more”. It was an mplication, and since I was never able to give a satisfactory answer I just gave up and owned the accusation.
Nothing will adequately soothe the wound, often by well-intentioned friends, of the accusation of lack of faith. It stings, but if it is especially painful feel free to reply, “yea, and paralyzed folks are lazy.”
I like to build things. But I have this weird obsession to use as much reclaimed material as possible. I loathe going to the store and just buying something new or shiny. I wish I had some deep environmental ethic, but I confess my true motivation is I love the forced creativity, only using what is on hand. I have this image that is what God intended when we build faith communities.
The interesting thing about recovery is the constant awareness of new character defects. Drinking, sex, relationships, drugs are but mere symptoms of the inner drive to be the master of our universe.
Saturday night at The Refuge we are focusing on the season of Easter and signs of life and hope. This past weekend we discussed Jesus’ interaction with a crippled man at the pool. “Do you want to get well?” is how Jesus opens the conversation. One might think that must be rhetorical, just a polite starter. But of course, I doubt that. Perhaps Jesus really wants to challenge the man’s thinking and inertia with this question.
…or said another way, Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday. I admit, I am brand new to the rhythm of the church calendar. Sure, I know how to do the occasional church potluck with ham bake and lime jello, but I don’t believe I have ever participated in anything that would resemble a corporate fast.
My wife threw a surprise party for my 40th birthday. There was lots of secrecy and fake errands to run, culminating with my appearance at the club house where 40-50 friends had gathered. It was really fun, but I have small confession: I was not surprised. I looked surprised–the hard work of April and the expectations of my friends demanded I feign the expected reaction. But, truth be told, I was expecting a big party. And it is very hard to be surprised when you expect a party. I had given her a big party for her 35th, and I felt like I deserved one in return.
I think the faith/doubt conundrum is as old as dust.
last sunday, february 8th, we had an evening of reflective stations to wrap up our series on hope. it was a beautiful evening of hope & connecting with God in all kinds of ways. several of the stations had questions about hope. here are some of the collective responses:




I have a gross admission, we recently had a mouse infestation in our garage. Before it was over, I helped find 41 little mice find eternal peace. Funny, I have never heard of an elephant or rhino infestation in anyone’s garage. I know that sounds silly, but I think it helps the Christmas story make sense.
