21 March - Borrowing the wand

Reading:
Mk 5

Imagine that Jonah refused to go to Nineveh, even after his inner space experience. What would have happened to the 120 000 people of Nineveh? They escaped God's proclaimed judgement as a result of their response to Jonah's preaching (and the grace of God I know). If Jonah ducked for good, would God just have sent someone else, or would Nineveh have reaped the devastating consequences of their way of life? Where does God's sovereignty stop and people's free will start? There are two main streams of thought in theology with which to approach this issue. The Calvinist approach leans much more to God's sovereignty: God's will is absolute and shall transpire with or without man's interference. The Arminian approach shifts the weight to our free will and choices: God chooses to work through people, and if they do not co-operate, there will be a real effect on God's will coming about.

 I never thought of ourselves in the Charismatic tradition as leaning particularly in either direction. However, a couple of years ago we spent some time at a ministry in England which is much more in the Reformed tradition, and thus much more Calvinistic in their understanding. The contrast to 'our way' suddenly became very blatant to me. We are much more Arminian than I ever thought. An example of where I saw this working out was in our attitudes in prayer.

When we really pray there is a sense of urgency in our hearts and even a subconscious,unexpressed anxiety. It is like we feel deep inside that if we do not pray, or if we pray poorly, that God's will shall be compromised. We are his co-labourers, and if we mess this up God's desired outcome - in the short term anyway - will suffer. If this was not the case, why pray seriously, and indeed; why pray at all?  When we prayed with the Reformed guys though, even when they prayed about weighty matters, there seemed to be a peace surrounding them. To my unaccustomed heart their attitude felt somewhere between indifference and passivity (which it was not). I found the contrast glaring.

In Mark 5 we read some stories that can motivate sides of the argument. Jairus's little daughter died. Her condition was obvious, and the local community noisily bewailed it. They were unmovable in their diagnosis, even in the face of Jesus challenging their clearly observable, verifiable  fact. The conviction of the crowd made no difference to Jesus. He walked into the house and the little girl walked out. God is sovereign.

On his way to Jairus's house however, Jesus suddenly realised that - to his surprise - someone had used his healing power without him agreeing, giving permission or even knowing about it (unless he faked his surprise, which will launch an even bigger theological conundrum). A woman who suffered from a debilitating affliction crept up from the back and, in the chaos of the crowd, touched his robe in the hope of supernatural healing. Jesus didn't see her coming, but he felt power leaving him. She was healed, and once she identified herself, Jesus told her that her faith is what made her well, not his power or God's grace. It is not the only story like this in the Bible. Our free will gives us access to (if I can borrow from CS Lewis) "the dignity of causality."

So where does this leave us. I don't know. Smith Wigglesworth, a legendary ministry man who did many wonderful miracles, apparently said something which spoke of his own understanding of the dilemma:

"The Holy Spirit moves me, and when he doesn't, I move him."