²³ When He got into the boat, His disciples followed Him. ²⁴ And behold, a violent storm developed on the sea, so that the boat was being covered by the waves; but Jesus Himself was asleep. ²⁵ And they came to Him and woke Him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing!” ²⁶ He *said to them, “Why are you afraid, you men of little faith?” Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, and it became perfectly calm. ²⁷ The men were amazed, and said, “What kind of a man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?” ~ Matthew 8:23-27 (NASB)

In a book study in my church a few weeks ago, we were give four Bible passages (the one above, Matt 8:1-3 [leper who was cleansed], Matt 9:2-7 [paralytic whose friends brought him to be healed], and Matt 9:20-22 [woman with the issue of blood]) to read and then asked, “Which one do you most connect with or relate to?”

We talked through all of them, but in my group, the first, gut reaction was that we connected with the story of the disciples on the stormy sea. Because which of us hasn’t felt as though we’re in the midst of a storm at some point in our lives? Who among us hasn’t been in a literal storm that was scary? But even more, who hasn’t been in an emotional or circumstancial one?

Much like the disciples, I bet our instincts were right-on. We know to run to Jesus, just like they did. We know to cry out, “Save us, Lord! We’re dying here!”

But when we read that passage above, it becomes clear that Jesus’ method of saving them was not what they were expecting. They were shocked. HUGELY shocked. This–calming the very wind and waves–was not something they thought He could do.

So…what did they expect?

As I pondered the question, only one thing came to mind: they were expecting a normal, human reaction. They expected Him to wake up from His nap and lend a hand. They expected Him to maybe grab an oar or a line to a sail. Maybe even to lead them in a prayer for salvation asking God to calm the seas.

Jesus didn’t do that. He didn’t react as a human would. He didn’t do the human thing. He calmed the wind and the waves. He spoke, and it was so. Nature obeyed.

Then look at that story in Matthew 9:2-7, when the paralytic is brought by his friends to Jesus. They were obviously expecting something physical–a healing. Why else bring someone to a healer? They were demanding an appointment with the Great Physician.

But again, what did Jesus do? He looked at the faith of those friends and the paralyzed man and said, “Take courage, son. Your sins are forgiven.”

He was still paralyzed at that moment. Let that sink in. He’d come to Jesus for a healing in his legs, but Jesus looked and saw something much more important. He saw souls in need of a savior, and He offered that man the better good. He offered Him eternity. Salvation. Forgiveness.

And what does the man do?

We don’t actually know–we don’t see his reaction. But the Gospel writers certainly didn’t record any complaining on the part of the man or his friends. Nor do we see them saying, “Hey, wait a minute…who do you think you are? You can’t forgive sins.” Nope, only scribes were thinking that. And it was in response to their disbelief that He healed the man physically too, to offer them something visible.

But it wasn’t His first response. His first response, as always, was more concerned with the soul than the body. And I like to think (since we’re not told otherwise) that when that man had his sins forgiven, he was too overwhelmed with the peace and joy of that to even care that his legs still weren’t working right.

Then Jesus issued a command: “Take up your mat and go home.”

I love that, unlike some healings we see, where Jesus physically acts and the results follow, this one relies on the faith of the recipient. What if the man had shaken his head and said, “Lord, I can’t. That’s why I’m here.”?

My guess is that healing wouldn’t have followed, because he didn’t follow the word of the Lord. But he does. As simple as that. He stands up. Rolls up the mat his friends had been carrying him on. And he goes home. Presumably he had that faith even before he came, otherwise why would they have done so?

But I imagine it was all the more intense because he’d just been forgiven. Something no man could ever do for him.

Doctors can help heal us.
Prophets raised the dead and healed people many times.
The disciples themselves healed plenty.

But only Jesus could look a man in the eye and say, “Your sins are forgiven.” That was the real miracle done that day. The miracle of Jesus tending not the human, physical need, but one so much deeper. So much bigger.

How often, when we take our hurts and our troubles and our broken hearts to God, do we expect Him to react like us? Like humans? To tend to the physical in regular ways?

What if instead of lending a hand in the boat, we expect Him to calm the seas? What if, instead of fixing our circumstances, we trust Him to heal our hearts?

What if we expected our God to do something more than our human selves can do?