On a Sabbath Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues, and a woman was there who had been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not straighten up at all. When Jesus saw her, he called her forward and said to her, "Woman, you are set free from your infirmity." Then he put his hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God.
Indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, the synagogue ruler said to the people, " There are six days for work. So come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath."
The Lord answered him, " You hypocrites! Doesn't each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or donkey from the stall and lead it out to give it water? Then should not this woman, a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has kept bound for eighteen long years, be set free on the Sabbath day from what bound her"?
When he said this, all his opponents were humiliated, but the people were delighted with all the wonderful things he was doing.
Luke 13:10-17
But what glorifies God only infuriates the the synagogue official. To him, the service has been disrupted and the Sabbath dishonored. He rises in indignation to restore order and to make sure this breach of protocol doesn't set precedent. His words have an edge on them and come down sharply on the crowd.
Wait a minute. Shouldn't he be rubbing his eyes rather than raising his voice? Does he somehow miss the miracle?
No, he saw it. But his eyes were so fixed on formality and rules and time-honored traditions that he lost sight of the incredible display of power right before his eyes.
Why is it that so often the most religious are the most resistant to the power of God? Is their theology so neatly boxed that there is no room for miracles? Is their order of service so structured that there is no room to be suprised by the spontaneity of s supernatural God?
No room.
Maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why they close the door on the supernatural-----there's no room in the inn of their hearts for the birth of something unexpected from heaven.
.
Thanks to my daughter Rebekah for this great word
“You want to build me a house? Forget it—I’m going to build you a house. The kingdom that I’m shaping here isn’t what you do for me but what I do through you. I’m doing the building here, not you. I’m not going to let you confuse things by launching a building operation of your own. If I let you fill Jerusalem with the sights and sounds of your building project—carpenters’ hammers, masons’ chisels, teamsters’ shouts— before long everyone will be caught up in what you are doing, and not attentive to what I am doing. This is a kingdom that we’re dealing with, and I am the king. I’ve gotten along without a so-called house for a long time now. Where did you ever come up with the idea that I need or want a house? If there’s any building to be done, I’m doing it. I’ve been working with you since your shepherd days, building a kingdom—a place where salvation and justice and peace can be realized. That’s what you’re here: to give visibility and representation to what I’m doing, not call attention to what you’re doing. We’ve just had one failure like that in Saul, and we’re not going to have another. There will come a time when it’s appropriate to build something like you have in mind—your son, in fact, will do it—but this isn’t the time. First we have to get the concept of my sovereignty established in the people’s imagination and practice, your kingship a witness to my kingship, not an obscuring of it. That’s the house I’m building—your kingship as witness and representation of my sovereignty. First things first” (2 Sam. 7:14-17 Message).