Overwhelmed by Wonder
Read Mark 9:14-37.
I remember the first time I was in Europe amidst the mountains. The Alps, specifically. It was the year 2000 and as we drove all over Austria, I remember just staring out the windows at the mountains. It wasn't that I had never seen mountains; my grandparents lived for a time in Colorado, within sight of Pike's Peak, and we visited there every summer. It's just that somehow the Alps seemed taller, more majestic, as if they had been there longer and had seen so much more of human history than the mountains in our own country.
I know that's just my imagination. The mountains aren't observing anything. They're geological formations. But I have always been fascinated with the mountains—overwhelmed with wonder when I look at them.
Have you ever been overwhelmed with wonder? Have you been overcome by awe? When is the last time you remember such a feeling? Now let me ask a slightly different, but related, question: when is the last time you can remember being overwhelmed with wonder when encountering Jesus? If you can't remember, or if it was only when you came to know him for the first time, it's been too long.
Remember the context for today's passage: the disciples (three of them anyway) have just witnessed the Transfiguration. They've seen some of Jesus' glory. And Peter, especially (though all of them, most likely, in reality), wanted to turn an extraordinary event into something...well, something more ordinary, understandable, graspable. "Let's build some tents," he says, "so we can stay here." Let's ground this thing in some "reality." In the presence of wonder, they (or at least Peter) only saw the ordinary.
But the crowd at the foot of the mountain—surrounded by the ordinary (a boy's illness), they find wonder when Jesus enters their midst. The disciples who were left behind weren't able to heal the boy, and there had to be some great frustration in that experience. But as soon as Jesus enters the area, as soon as he comes into their midst, the crowd runs to him and they are, as Mark tells it, "overwhelmed with wonder." They know that he can heal the boy if he is willing. They know that they are in the presence of someone and something they can't understand or explain. It's wondrous. Jesus takes the mundane moment (the failing moment) and turns it into something extraordinary, wondrous.
So let me ask again: when was the last time you were overwhelmed with wonder? Maybe that moment can be right now as you invite Jesus—run to him—and invite him into the midst of whatever situation you face. Even if he doesn't respond exactly as you want him to, his presence alone will bring wonder, hope, and a fresh start. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed by wonder, right now.
I remember the first time I was in Europe amidst the mountains. The Alps, specifically. It was the year 2000 and as we drove all over Austria, I remember just staring out the windows at the mountains. It wasn't that I had never seen mountains; my grandparents lived for a time in Colorado, within sight of Pike's Peak, and we visited there every summer. It's just that somehow the Alps seemed taller, more majestic, as if they had been there longer and had seen so much more of human history than the mountains in our own country.
I know that's just my imagination. The mountains aren't observing anything. They're geological formations. But I have always been fascinated with the mountains—overwhelmed with wonder when I look at them.
Have you ever been overwhelmed with wonder? Have you been overcome by awe? When is the last time you remember such a feeling? Now let me ask a slightly different, but related, question: when is the last time you can remember being overwhelmed with wonder when encountering Jesus? If you can't remember, or if it was only when you came to know him for the first time, it's been too long.
Remember the context for today's passage: the disciples (three of them anyway) have just witnessed the Transfiguration. They've seen some of Jesus' glory. And Peter, especially (though all of them, most likely, in reality), wanted to turn an extraordinary event into something...well, something more ordinary, understandable, graspable. "Let's build some tents," he says, "so we can stay here." Let's ground this thing in some "reality." In the presence of wonder, they (or at least Peter) only saw the ordinary.
But the crowd at the foot of the mountain—surrounded by the ordinary (a boy's illness), they find wonder when Jesus enters their midst. The disciples who were left behind weren't able to heal the boy, and there had to be some great frustration in that experience. But as soon as Jesus enters the area, as soon as he comes into their midst, the crowd runs to him and they are, as Mark tells it, "overwhelmed with wonder." They know that he can heal the boy if he is willing. They know that they are in the presence of someone and something they can't understand or explain. It's wondrous. Jesus takes the mundane moment (the failing moment) and turns it into something extraordinary, wondrous.
So let me ask again: when was the last time you were overwhelmed with wonder? Maybe that moment can be right now as you invite Jesus—run to him—and invite him into the midst of whatever situation you face. Even if he doesn't respond exactly as you want him to, his presence alone will bring wonder, hope, and a fresh start. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed by wonder, right now.
The ocean is my fascination. The earthly representation of God for me. I am constantly overwhelmed by God's provision in His answering of prayers.
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