The great Christian apologetics writer, C.S. Lewis wrote what I consider the definitive text on this subject. I couldn’t possibly cover it in a post and my paltry skills are hardly of the same caliber. Nevertheless, it is a subject which has been occupying my thoughts for some time now as I think about those I know and those I don’t who are so in need of a miracle right now.
Though it does not do justice to Lewis’ incredibly well reasoned work, please allow me to sum up some key points as a prelude. By definition, miracles are, well, supernatural. Now don’t over-react to that word—neither Lewis nor I mean paranormal or any other fantastical thing. Lewis is simply making the point that miracles lie somewhere outside the natural world—that is, they are not the product of nature as we know it. We might say that miracles cannot be accounted for within man’s knowledge of the principles that govern the universe. And yet, miracles occur all of the time--things for which we have no rational explanation.
Of course, being astute readers, you might well point out that our scientific knowledge is subject to limits, and indeed, what we know about the universe has and will continue to expand over time. The scientist and author, Arthur C. Clarke put it well when he said, “any reasonably advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” But we are not a primitive people, awed by an eclipse. We are sophisticated, knowledgeable and can concede that what is beyond our understanding today might be revealed to us in the future, and therefore miracles may simply be science we have not yet penetrated.
Then there is the other explanation, the one we might like to believe but may find uncomfortable because it suggests powers beyond those humanity has at its disposal and because it is wholly unreliable. What’s the good of miracles if we cannot ensure their arrival by the simple expedient of prayer? Here, we are at the heart of the issue. Faith and prayer do not guarantee a miracle despite our most fervent desires. For example, some people with incurable diseases are cured spontaneously and without medical intervention and we do not know why, but we do know that many others, even those of great piety and faith are not. Why one and not the other?
As ill equipped as I am to undertake a deep theological issue such as this, much less in a few hundred words, let me simply say that I have personally witnessed miracles. I have seen people in dire circumstances survive by means well beyond medical science. I have also met others who in the face of the worst possible circumstances found themselves unexpectedly rewarded. I do not know why.
While I have no answers, I do have the power of observation and here are two things I have seen as well. First, those who were spared a catastrophic outcome seemed to share a common trait, they had unfinished business—life work that remained to be done. And yes, I do know that might be said of many or even most whose end we would describe as untimely. The other thing and arguably more vital element these people had in common was a powerful force of will. As Dylan Thomas said, they were not ready to go gentle into that good night.
Make of this what you will. In the end all our lives as we know them will end—even those who have at one time been spared an early demise; whether by disease, accident, war or violence of another kind. But what we do not recognize are the real and tangible miracles that routinely occur in our lives: the fall from the ladder that should have killed us, the auto accident that happened just a few yards ahead barely missing us, and a thousand other near fatal events that might have been. We dismiss these near misses as luck or say that it just wasn’t our time. But what do we mean by that? The truth is we don’t know, nor do we know how to say we are grateful to whatever force in the universe intervened on our behalf. But we should know that it could have gone the other way.
Our fortunes in this life rise or fall, things we regard as good or bad occur and it is left to others to sum up the meaning. When we are gone, we aren’t there to provide the narrative. Even at this moment our very existence is a profound mystery. For my part, I am more than thankful for the many times a miracle saved me and those I love from harm. I still have things I need to do, amends to make, caring to do and others to help through their own trials. I try to live with intentionality and a keen awareness that I live by grace alone. That is the true miracle.