Jesus walks into His local synagogue and boldly announces that He was the one the great Isaiah had spoken of when he said:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives,
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To set free those who are downtrodden,
To proclaim the favorable year of the Lord. (Luke 4:18-19)
Jesus came to proclaim and live out, as the first born of a new race, a comprehensive gospel that touched the spirits, souls, and bodies of all those who had been trodden down by the Fall.
My 40 years as a follower of this same Jesus have been lived in either a cease-fire or crossfire between camps who are divided on just how comprehensive this salvation Jesus proclaimed is. Both camps believe that Jesus is still in the business of restoring life to stillborn spirits, that if they will repent, He will set these prisoners free from the power of sin, making them God’s children and giving them eternal life. The bullets fly and the family separates, however, on whether Jesus still heals people physically and delivers them from demonic torment (or if, for that matter, demonic torment even exists).
In my sojourn, I am traveling alongside tribes who are on both sides of this divide. And as much as we may hunger for the certainty one camp’s theology might provide, no one seems to offer a certified (preferably seminary-derived) patented truth that will bring peace in the family. I am just going to tell my story (in super-condensed form) as it has evolved so far and describe what I have peace about in my heart. (Without a certificate, what else can I do?)
I surrendered my life to Christ in 1976 in a very missions-oriented church, but (please promise to not shoot me) this was a church that spoke in tongues. As I gave Christ permission to move in and rule, He brought some immediate and dramatic changes to my life. And I too (please don’t run away) received a prayer language early into my new life in Christ. For the record this was not, as far as I know, the Acts 2 kind of speaking in tongues, intended for interpretation. Mine has been what I think of as private prayer language.
I just assumed that Jesus was the same as Isaiah had introduced Him and the New Testament had presented Him. I reasoned in childlike innocence that if He could transform my life and save my soul, He must be able and willing to heal our bodies as well. Surely He had not just given the New Testament as a teaser! Surely Isaiah had not gilded the lily!
At that time, I didn’t realize how much fun I was going to have and how many new friends I was going to make, proclaiming that I now prayed in an unknown language and that Jesus was still healing folks. However, I am certain that my family and friends completely agreed I was now speaking in an entirely different language (sarcasm intended).
God, what have You gotten me in to? The reception I received with these proclamations made this shy, reclusive young man quickly aware that he was either going to need a life boat or a bullet proof vest on this journey. (A bullhorn might not be necessary, as I had initially thought). To my grand disappointment, I had been born again into a house divided!
What transpired on my trail as I put miles behind me, was a forfeiture of the childlike innocence I had first known. My heart made some adjustments for the tension created by believing in things that don’t come true in the timing and in the sense I had anticipated. However, because of my own miraculous origins, and how I read the New Testament, I was still unable to adopt the readily available doctrine that relegated miracles to the first century only as sign-gifts needed at that unique moment to launch the Church. (Did the Church need power then that it doesn’t need today?)
It is crushing to watch disease take its toll, especially when you have believed and proclaimed that God is good, powerful, and willing to heal. It would be much easier to join a cessationist camp and relieve myself of the deferred hope that has often made my heart sick in regards to healing. At least there I would be free from the temptation to raise questions (or even make a case in my heart) about the goodness, power, and willingness of God. As one who takes a fair amount of medicine and who has a fair amount of aches and pains that he would like to be free of, I still cannot adopt, in good conscience (as convenient as it would be), a gospel that is limited to salvation (sozo in the original greek) as the forgiveness of sins and a get-out-hell free pass. (Have cessationsists done a word study to see how comprehensive this Greek word sozo actually is?)
I have decided that, even in the presence of apparent evidence to the contrary, I am going to continue thinking of Jesus as the one who heals bodies and restores men to righteous sanity and wholeness. He is my Savior, Teacher and as the first-born of a new race (of which I am a member), He is also my Example. I confess that I still live in a crossfire of arguments on this topic. Sometimes the debate even ricochets around within my own heart. However, I am determined, by God’s grace, to hold on to the God I first met when I was 23. Again, I am no scholar, but this Jesus, with His comprehensive good news, lines up with the whole counsel of scripture better than the other partial-sozo Jesuses I have been offered.
If I am in error, I figure the worst scenario I will face is having to explain, when I stand before Him, that I had believed and proclaimed that He was more willing with the supernatural than He actually was. I am willing to take that risk. I prefer giving this account than trying to explain why I had buried my talents and brought Him no return on His (Christ-in me) investment. I also feel that (in light of Hebrew 11) I am not alone living with the tension experienced between the believing and the coming true.
I hope your gun is not drawn when we meet or that you won’t withdraw the right hand of fellowship (or offer me the limp one). For the record, I no longer carry a gun and I assure you my hand will be extended to you wherever you are in your trek with the Lord. Oh, and by the way, when we meet, I also pledge to speak in English (my native tongue) and not in a foreign one.
Father, may you teach us in Your fragmented body to be at peace with all men, especially our eternal family, as much as it is possible. May we realize as a family what the full extent of Your Kingdom’s good news is. May we live it and proclaim it from the rooftops. Amen.