I believe God still intervenes in human affairs by means of signs and wonders. However, I openly confess my own disappointment in modern-day prophets. In my college days, I journeyed with some friends to attend a revival led by celebrated radio evangelist RWS. When we entered the auditorium, the energy level was reminiscent of the “Are You Ready for a Miracle” tent scene in the 1992 movie Leap of Faith. We were filled with anticipation for an old-fashioned Holy Ghost-palooza. The headlining evangelist began his performance by introducing RC, his associate evangelist. This man had a miracle of his own to demonstrate. He was born with one good eye and an empty space where the other should have been. Inexplicably, his momma’s prayers resulted in a miracle that defied medical science. He had the ability to see without the benefit of the missing eye. At the direction of Evangelist RW., RC roamed up and down the aisles to show the audience his blood-red eye socket. Our audible gasps and moans indicated that we were at once both intrigued and nauseated.

Showtime. RC instructed his assistant to wrap his head thoroughly with a linen cloth. Only the eyeless crater would be left unwrapped. Next, he invited members of the audience to queue up to the platform, bringing with them some form of photo identification. One by one they presented their IDs while RC read aloud their names and place of origin. “You are Bob Smith from Arkansas?” “Yes, I am!” said Bob Smith. And so on. “This is great!” I thought to myself. Now, I wanted a piece of this action. I sent my ID with one of my friends. He was a scrawny, towheaded, blue-eyed kid from Illinois. I had a full mustache and a shaggy head full of dark-brown hair. We looked nothing alike. The excitement was palpable as our friend inched closer and closer to RC. We teetered on the edge of our seats. “Your name is Daniel Flores from Texas?” My color photo took up a third of the card. There was no way he could have missed it. RC glanced down at our friend for a confirmation who was by this time nearly catatonic. I don’t know if he was mesmerized by the mysterious tall man with the red socket or merely shocked that he failed to identify the mismatched photo. The Illinois kid turned on his heels and zombie-walked back to rejoin his dumbfounded mates. I don’t think his knees bent the entire way. As he sat down, RC stopped the performance and made an announcement. “Daniel from Texas, you didn’t believe me. Where are you?” The jig was up! RC motioned as if he was scanning the crowd. We all froze and said nothing. The awkward moment passed when the radio evangelist RWS decided to take up an extra offering for his partner, R.C. As we drove home, my companions and I acknowledged our disheartenment with mutual silence. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but there we were.

On that day, I stopped believing in itinerant preachers who claimed they possessed special powers to perform miracles. To be fair, I still believed in the God who performed miracles by means of prophets and exemplars in the Bible. I also believe in contemporary divine interventions—mini-miracles that reside somewhere between getting that dream-job and overcoming depression. I concluded that the real stuff was very rare, despite empty promises from credulous preachers and charlatans looking for the next sucker.

The study of other religions has enriched my faith and helped me to believe in God. From Judaism, I learned that God expects us to make ourselves relevant to our faith, not the other way around. The problem with liberal Christian theologians of the late nineteenth century is that they spent their best efforts trying to humanize God. They wanted to make the deity relevant to the lives of human beings. In so doing, they imagined a heavenly father who would do anything to prevent harm from his children. Consequently, the humanized deity imagined by postbellum liberalism failed when confronted by the realities of the systematic destruction of Native American people, the pervasive racism of Jim Crow laws, poverty, and casualties of the Civil War. This disenchantment grew in the 20th century with globalized wars, the unspeakable inhumanities of the Holocaust, and the devastation of HIV/AIDS. It is understandable why people today wrestle with questions about faith. The ancient wisdom figure Job suffered so much that he was tempted to accuse God of divine malfeasance. Considering the personal tragedies he experienced, you might agree that he had good cause to speak up. God’s answer put everything into perspective.

“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding,” (Job 38:4 NRSV).  

I think it is possible to believe in a sovereign deity who cares deeply for Creation, including imperfect humankind. Closely related to divine interventions are “miracles” of human endeavor inspired by our Creator. Think of Jonas Salk’s life-saving polio vaccine or Christiaan Barnard’s first heart transplant. I am not implying that God is silent or indifferent to human affairs. God can do anything, but God is not subject to human manipulation. In the 1979 movie The Frisco Kid, fictional rabbi Avram explains to Chief Grey Cloud that miracles on demand are not God’s “department”:

“He doesn’t make rain! He gives us strength when we’re suffering; He gives us compassion when all that we feel is hatred; He gives us courage when we’re searching around blindly like little mice in the darkness… but He does not make rain!

[Thunder and lightning begin, followed by a downpour.]

Of course, … sometimes, just like that, he’ll change his mind.”[1]

 

The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view(s) of The United Methodist Church or any other employer or institution.

Endnotes:

[1] “Gene Wilder: Avram,.” IMDb, IMDb.com, www.imdb.com/title/tt0079180/characters/nm0000698?ref_=tt_cl_t1.