In the beginning God worked. And then God rested. But then God got back to work, and apparently hasn’t stopped.

Since the beginning, human beings have worked. And then overworked, not heeding God’s gift of rhythms of work and rest.

Being over-busy is a symptom of pride, of a deep belief that I am essential to the world. That if I stop working for a period of time, then everything around me will fall apart and all my endeavors will fall behind. The invitation to Sabbath rest is a test of whether or not I take Jesus at his word:

Which is precisely what our world chases. “Viral,” even through the intense negative publicity given to viruses over the past couple of years, is still a positive thing. Each of us now holds in our hands the only tool we need to potentially launch us to stardom. The future really is quite a fascinating time to be alive.

Most of the time all the social media marketing, self-branding, and non-stop promotion of literally everything doesn’t bother me a whole lot. I don’t lose sleep over it.

Until it hits the church.

Particularly if ever his rules (or what we suppose to be his rules) are more important than human flourishing. If keeping one of God’s rules prevents you from helping one of God’s sons or daughters, you’re missing the point.

Take the Sabbath, for example, a day in which humans are commanded to be like God by resting from work: Jesus himself frequently got in trouble for healing on the Sabbath. Sometimes those he healed got in trouble, too. The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda had kept the Sabbath for 38 years—not a lick of work! Never carried a darn thing on the Sabbath. But then, the first Sabbath that he’s able to walk, he carries his mat home. Which ruffles the feathers of the local Sabbath Police—who completely missed the wonder of the fact that this man couldn’t have broken the Sabbath if he had wanted to for 38 years was now able to break it.

Like the time in the public infirmary, the Pool of Bethesda. Hundreds of disabled, crippled, sick, incurable people waiting for this crazy miracle that happens once in a blue moon.

Jesus walks in, looks around, and inquires about one particular invalid. Turns out he’s been immobile for thirty-eight years. And when the miracle comes, his condition keeps him back from the miracle. No one helps him in. Time after time. Year after year. Miracle after miracle. Even a blind guy stumbles into a pool of healing angel-water every now and then—but not the cripple.

“Do you want to get well?”, Jesus asked the invalid.

“Yes!”

Obviously. Thirty-eight years is a long time to suffer. It’s also a long time to not give up waiting for a miracle.

There’s a saying: “The answer is in the question.” It’s sometimes used to imply that a question is so simple that it seems silly to even ask. It’s also sometimes used to inidcate that a further question is the real question.

Is almost always where you can find Jesus.

He shows up in the middle of our desperation, not in our confidence and contentment. He meets us at the end of our rope, not in our neatly ordered and controlled three-ring binders. He is drawn by our brokenness and weakness, not our got-it-all-togetherness and strength. He helps the helpless, not those who are fully capable of helping themselves.

Is all any of us really have.

Someone else saw something beautiful and told us about it, and we believed them. Someone else did a study about the effects of a medication, and we took it. Someone studied history and compiled stories into a single narrative, and we accepted it. Someone else told us that this was a reliable car to purchase, and we bought it. Someone else did the math and said that the architecture of a bridge is sound, and we drove across it. Someone else told us that they loved us, and we loved them back. Someone else heard something from God and wrote it down, and we read them as His words.

Some of us need signs and wonders. Some of us need a clear, simple explanation. Some of us need to feel deeply loved and accepted just as we are. Some of us need a cause to live for. Some of us need help getting our act together. Some of us need a clean break from our sordid past and a fresh start into a bright, new future.

For Jesus, you never believing is not an option. His love and kindness compel him to do whatever he can to help you believe. The trick is that sometimes what we say we need in order to believe is different from what Jesus says we need in order to believe. He knows us better than we know ourselves.

I may say that I need signs and wonders, but he offers me a clean break from my past.

I may say that I need a clear explanation, but he gives me a new, bigger reason to live.

I may say that I need help getting my act together, but he extends love and acceptance.

Or perhaps I may be spot on about what I need. Regardless, the decisive moment comes when Jesus offers me what he knows I really need, which might not be what I think I need. Can I take him at his word?

Is about how long it would take you to get from Cana to Capernaum today. With good traffic. Not too bad.

In the first century, it would be about a 7 hour walk. A bit faster if you were in a hurry and in decent shape. Even faster if you had some modern footwear. Even faster than that if you had a horse or a donkey.

Imagine for a moment that your child is dying in Capernaum, but you’re away on official business in Cana. Because your boss, to put it lightly, is not the kind of man you’d say “No” to. Your heart is breaking. The doctors have done all that they can do. The end is imminent. You can’t get home fast enough. Even 40 minutes feels like an eternity, let alone a few hours.

So you do the only thing you can think to do: Beg for a miracle.

I know it can be hard. There’s so much familiarity that you have a fixed image in your mind of who they are. There were so many times that you’ve seen them do ordinary things that it can be hard to recognize when they do something extraordinary. When you’ve watched someone grow up it can be easy to miss the man or woman they’ve become. Stories of their great accomplishments in some distant city may just sound like irrelevant and exaggerated tales.

Define “prophet” however you want. For my money you can almost insert anyone into that slot. Everyone has something to communicate about who God is, or what he is up to, or what he might have to say today. Whether they are conscious of it or not. We are all image bearers.

Or just forget the word “prophet” if that throws you or if you feel like nitpicking the definition. The truth is that everyone is easily overlooked by those who’ve known them for years on end.