Sugar snap peas and faith

Sugar snap peas

The sugar snap peas in our garden have grown to become a cluster of vines spreading up along old tree branches and ropes. I enjoy peering through the green thicket, looking for a camouflaged pod to eat as a midday snack. I am continually surprised that, no matter how many pods I've harvested, there always seems to be one more hidden somewhere in the shadows. 

So too, there is always something new to discover about Jesus. 

Not everyone sees things this way, though. Sometimes people quit looking early on because they think they know everything there is to know about him. In the Gospel of Mark, when Jesus visits his hometown of Nazareth and teaches in the synagogue, the people are at first amazed at his wisdom and power, but this quickly turns to offense: 'Isn't this the carpenter?' they ask. 'Isn't this Mary's son and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon? Aren't his sisters here with us?' (Mark 6:2-3). 

Jesus is unable to do any miracles there (except heal a few sick people), and St Mark says 'he was amazed at their lack of faith' (6:6). Jesus' amazement is significant because in the Gospel of Mark, amazement usually comes from other people about Jesus, whether because of his teaching, power or even his silence (1:22, 27; 6:51; 15:5). In this case alone, though, Jesus himself is amazed--and it's because of how little faith they have in him.

Their lack of faith comes from their overfamiliarity with Jesus. As the English proverb says, 'Familiarity breeds contempt.' They know all sorts of things about him, like his family tree, the tables and chairs he's built, his foibles and all the local gossip about him, but they have missed the most important thing: he is also the Son of God. 

Their lack of faith gives me three main thoughts to chew on.

Overfamiliarity can blind us from recognising Jesus' true identity

What gossip have we heard about Jesus? Our culture often portrays Jesus in misleading ways, whether as a well-intentioned but ultimately failed idealist, an elitist who encourages our prejudices or an extremely advanced but still only-human guru. In any case, it fails to recognise him as he truly is, the fullness of God in human form (Col. 2:9).

Beyond Jesus' pop-culture reputation, how often does our own knowledge of Jesus keep us from recognising him? Over the last 15 or so years, for example, I've learned much about God through books, teachers and other means. I've studied theology, worked in various Christian settings and even led a worship band! Surely I should know a thing or two about Jesus. Surely, also, people who have been Christians all their lives should be Jesus experts. 

However, I remain only a beginner in my discipleship. Although academic knowledge and even work experience are valuable, they are not essential to faith. An atheist can earn a theology degree, and some of those who most strongly persecuted Jesus were worship leaders. Rather, what is essential is a living relationship with God through faith. 

To be clear, I am not saying education is unimportant. But my credentials can tempt me to think I have Jesus mastered, thus blinding me to deeper truths about him. 

Overfamiliarity can blind us from recognising God's presence in other people

The Nazarenes reject Jesus because they fail to see beyond his reputation. Perhaps they wonder how a tradesperson can be so educated. Maybe there has been a slur on this young man born of an unmarried woman. 

How often do I limit people because of assumptions based on their appearance or reputation? Among people I know well, how often do I fail to see God's presence in their lives because I think I already have them figured out? 

A few years ago, I worked as a youth worker on a team. Our focus was often on what we could give to the youth, such as our time, energy, practical resources and teaching. Although this was necessary, I wonder what our ministry would have been like if we had also asked, 'What ministry do the youths have to offer us?' Surely, in addition to calling us to serve them, God was calling them to serve the church and wider community. Whenever we did consider their calling and service to God, I believe we rightly recognised Christ's presence in their lives.

What if I approached people the way I approach my sugar snap peas, always looking out for another pod hiding among the vines rather than assuming there are no more?

Faith often comes before miracles

Jesus can do no miracles in Nazareth because of their lack of faith. Does this mean God is limited by human problems? I don't think so; God can do anything. Yet there is a connection throughout the Gospel of Mark between faith and healing. I think this means God wants our participation in his healing us. God will not force himself on us if we don't want to cooperate. 

I sometimes think that if only God did more miracles today, many more people would believe in him. However, God performed the most miraculous sign when he became a human in Jesus, who himself did many miracles--yet even then people rejected and crucified him. It was only those who believed in him who recognised his true identity and received the benefits of acknowledging that identity (see John 1:12-13). 

Thus, perhaps in addition to praying for miracles, we must pray for faith for ourselves and others, so that we may be open to his miracles and able to recognise them when they come. 

The ultimate miracle Jesus wants to do is transform us in his likeness. As St Athanasius said, 'God became man so that man could become God' (that is, to become Christlike; here 'man' means all humanity, male and female). We believe this will happen on the last day when Christ appears a second time, clothing us with glorified bodies resembling his own (1 Cor. 15:42-49). 

But this transformation can begin now. When we ask Jesus in faith to heal our inner person, he continually restores our vision so we may understand more clearly who he is, and see through other people's appearances and reputations to recognise them as bearers of God's image.

A friend was recently visiting and looking around our garden. When he came to the sugar snap peas, I told him several pods were hiding in the thicket. He didn't believe me at first; all he could see were green vines, leaves and shadows. I insisted, saying I could see at least two from where I was standing. Fortunately, unlike those in Jesus' hometown, my friend had enough faith to search more carefully until he found a pod--and when he did, he was amazed!