Prayer, faith and a cool miracle
Published: August 22, 2005
A favorite prayer of mine includes a bidding for a “childlike faith in God,” at which point my mind often wonders, “What would Granny Steele think?”
Granny Steele passed away when I was still a boy. I wish I could have known her for a longer time. I wish I could ask her questions right now. I’d like to know more clearly, for example, her thoughts about the day that I was playing alone in a room with a gas space heater and accidentally created danger. The noxious fumes pretty soon brought Granny and my father into the room. I didn’t catch the concern as they fretted about the danger, cut off the gas, and opened doors and windows, because, as I told them, “It’s OK. Jesus will save us.”
I would give a lot to have a record of Granny Steele’s exact reply, but essentially it nudged me out of childlike faith and toward questioning. Jesus won’t save us from mishaps? Then what is faith about? Why do we bother to believe?
No-nonsense pragmatism
Granny Steele was a church-going woman, but I imagine that her journey of faith was steeped in self-reliance. In her daily grind, Jesus didn’t plow fields or pluck chickens, churn butter or chop wood. For her, Jesus’ parables of the earth probably were quite literal. I also imagine that she felt abandoned by God when one of her 12 offspring died in a fire in a ramshackle wooden schoolhouse. That loss may be why my potential disaster with the gas heater brought her out full bore. In her no-nonsense way of saying that Jesus wasn’t going to cure my every mistake, she set me on a different course.My faith to this day is riddled with pragmatism. Where other people see miracles in even the smallest of events, I expect there are rational explanations. When I see faith summarized on bumper stickers and T-shirts, or hawked by TV preachers, I remember Granny Steele instead.
On a recent Saturday in oppressive heat, I spent several hours working outside. After a cool shower and several glasses of water, I wondered why I was still sweating. So I checked the thermostat. My house was as hot as, well, you know what. The air conditioner wasn’t blowing.
Does someone with a childlike faith pray, “God, fix my air conditioner”? I only know that I can’t say such a prayer. But the next morning as I knelt in church, I did pray silently, “God, this is more than I can handle right now.” (I’m sure I also subtly reminded God of the sad state of my dishwasher, van, lawn mower and bank account.)
There’s an ominous slogan: “God never gives us more than we can handle.” My typical rebuttal is, first, those words are of no comfort to the victims of war and poverty we see in the news every day; and, second, despite the admonition to “turn the other cheek,” there’s nothing in Scripture that says, “Let life kick you in the shins.”
Which is what I did anyway that blistering hot Sunday. The Gospel lesson began with Matthew’s summary of the parable of the tiny mustard seed, but faith was a little ways from my mind. I was thankful for being in an air-conditioned church, but also distracted by thinking of air-conditioned places where I could hang out that afternoon.
Misplaced faith
Monday morning, before calling for repair, I tried the air conditioner again, just to make sure. It started right up. A rational explanation? Probably. More important are my questions: Why didn’t I try the air conditioner on Sunday, after my prayer of desperation, instead of sweating out the day? Why, as cool air entered my house Monday morning, did I pass my hand over each vent and stare at the thermostat, again and again, seeking confirmation of what was apparent?
It’s because my faith was misplaced. I was certain that I’d already tested everything I knew, and so I couldn’t believe that my air conditioner was working again. Just as I couldn’t believe, as a young boy, that Jesus wouldn’t save us from being blown to bits.
In the span of two days, I received God’s reminder that when we pray, we are not sealing an envelope without further thought; and I remembered Granny Steele’s lesson that faith is not about being spared from peril. I’ll consider that a miracle.
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