Fearless Faith

The first three books of the New Testament (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) are known as the Synoptic gospels. They are broadly related and represent a unified historical approach for many. Similar theological themes connect them in forming a floor for scriptural understanding. The life and times of Jesus are laid out, to the extent we know them and the narratives and parallels between the three gospels are reassuring to hang our hats on. As a collection, they could easily have been titled, “New Testament Variations on a Theme,” and few would argue.

Then comes along a fourth gospel, The Book of John. Like the synoptics, authorship has been raised and debated over time. Be aware that scripture associated with a particular name (e.g. – Timothy, Matthew, Peter, Revelation, Hebrews) is rarely proof of authorship. That is not to say that the early scripture writers were cagey or dishonest. It was, however, recognized that writing under a more well-known person’s name or reputation added validity to the final product. Of the thirteen epistles of the apostle Paul, seven are widely considered authored by Paul himself. The other six are suspect based on their rhetorical style, voice, themes and when they were written. That does not invalidate their message. It is merely a reminder to consider fully the elements that makes for good narrative. We owe at least that much to the ancient authors.

John, the fourth book of the New Testament, brings forth a more mystical understanding of Jesus and his works. Instead of miracles recounted in the Synoptic gospels, Divine intents are considered ‘signs’ of a broader and more expansive presence of God through God’s incarnational son. In John, the discourse goes beyond the short pithy sayings of Jesus in the Synoptics, including extended monologues. Several events described in John cannot be found in the Synoptics, including turning water into wine at a wedding in Canna. Miracle, sign, or crafty maneuvering? It is a question worth asking. Temple priests also turned water into wine to impress followers. There is historical evidence for long boxes in which water flowed into a raised opening only to come out the lower end as wine. There was, of course, a hidden valve or two that was the true origin of the wine.

Does it matter how we label religious events of God’s making? Are they miracles or signs, or mere happenstance? As springtime progresses, there are plenty of signs and miracles for us to dwell upon. Each has its own meanings and depth. The apple tree and crabapple blooms are suddenly front and center. Butterflies follow suit as they break free of winter. Even the carpet of dandelions is a reminder of the work we take for granted from bees and other pollinators. And of course there is also the miracle of rhubarb pie. Even the temple priests cannot argue that one.

It is not the format that determines our heightened understanding of the miraculous, but how we apply it to our daily lives. Sometimes we need to hear or see something first-hand. Other times, as the author of John understood, there needs to be time spent in conversation with others and with ourselves. My guess? It will not take very long until the two are indistinguishable in our lives. Signs of the miraculous in everyday life? What a novel idea.