“If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them” (James 4:17). Yet Jesus asks, “Do you want to get well?” This question highlights that good cannot be done just any way or against a person’s will. Jesus shows that human will must be respected before God’s power can address sickness.
The expression “It would have been better if this had never happened” is one of the saddest and most heartbreaking sentiments of the human experience. Spoken with regret, deep unfulfilled sorrow, and often a tone of passion or bitterness, it is always linked to events we wish had never happened. Things generally accepted as embodying goodness and beauty are understood without question—so how can you ask a man who has been ill for 38 years, “Do you want to get well?”[1] It goes without saying that healing is good, desirable, and unquestionably the right course of action when possible. Any other perspective borders on the immoral, or even the demonic.
God’s will and my will
Jesus spoke or remained silent according to criteria unknown to us but accessible through the Holy Spirit, to the extent that we are willing to be led by Him: “For I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken.”[2] Therefore, there is a time for everything, and words that may seem strange can become, depending on the time, place, and circumstance, instruments of the Holy Spirit. Jesus’s question, “Do you want to …?” applies not only to healing but to any good and beautiful thing universally accepted as positive. When it comes to negative things, it might seem senseless to ask, “Do you want to …?”
Yet, although such things go against God’s nature and represent a strange work for Him, Jesus guarantees the fulfilment of a person’s will, even when what they desire is wrong and contrary to God’s will. Balaam’s journey, for instance, was not God’s will but Balaam’s own. The “certificate of divorce” granted to a husband was not from God, but a result of hardened hearts. Israel’s demand for Saul as king did not reflect God’s desire, but the people’s. Balaam could not claim, “I went because God told me to,” but rather, “I went because I was determined to do so.” Therefore, we must be mindful of our own will, for it will be fulfilled—whether it aligns with or opposes the will of God.
The apostle Peter describes a revealing situation. Some people, he says, “have escaped the corruption of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,” only to become “again entangled in it and are overcome.” The result is that “they are worse off at the end than they were at the beginning.”[3] What follows is even more striking: “It would have been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than to have known it and then to turn their backs on the sacred command that was passed on to them.” He continues with a vivid metaphor: “A dog returns to its vomit,” and “a sow that is washed returns to her wallowing in the mud.”[4]
So, would it have been better for them never to have known God? Don’t we believe that it is our duty to make God known to every person? Isn’t this a mandate from Jesus? Yes and no. Yes, in the sense of privilege, but no when it becomes an unwanted, unaccepted, or forced initiative (the Inquisition and its methods serve as a clear example). We cannot do good at any time, in any way, or for just anyone. It’s certain that the end does not justify the means—in fact, the true purpose is revealed by the methods we use to achieve it.
My will and the will of others
In December 2016, The Guardian hosted a heated debate. The issue centred around a nurse, Sarah Kuteh, who asked a patient awaiting surgery if he would like her to pray for the success of the operation. This seemingly small gesture, much like the proverbial butterfly that flaps its wings in Mexico and triggers a storm in Alaska, ultimately led to her dismissal. Readers were divided: some supported the nurse’s initiative, while others reacted with indignation to what they saw as an overstep. “I’m groggy when I go into surgery,” one woman said, “I don’t need prayer.” “How can you impose your religion on someone when they’re about to be on the operating table?” One reader responded, “She didn’t impose her religion—she simply asked if the patient wanted a prayer.” However, another countered, “Someone might interpret that as a sign they don’t have much time left if you’re praying for them.”
“I’m shocked,” someone else remarked, “that such a person could be fired so violently and unfairly for an initiative like this, especially when the hospital employs a chaplain for these situations.” (Perhaps the chaplain knows more about the mystery behind her fall from grace.)
And so, the dialogue went on, back and forth. How a simple question about prayer turned into such a serious breach in a country as historically devoted to God as England is a topic worth exploring further in another article. Here, however, we will take a more proactive approach and try to understand the principles and manner in which God would have us serve those around us.
Even when we selflessly desire to do good for our neighbour, it’s important to remember that it cannot be done anytime, in any way, for anyone, or to any extent. Before Jesus sent His disciples to carry out the greatest act of charity—leading others to faith in God—He spent three and a half years intensely preparing them, a time marked by experiences of profound transformative power. The command, “Go into all the world,” was not given lightly. The people who were to be sent needed to be thoroughly taught how to carry out their mission. Jesus underscored the importance of understanding the mission and undergoing proper discipleship, which must precede any kind of work, no matter how noble.
Surgeons don’t learn to operate in the operating room itself, but rather in classrooms and labs. It takes many years before a scalpel is placed in their hands, and only then do they stand beside the operating table, where their apprenticeship is truly perfected. Should less care, attention, and effort be given to the healing of the soul? It’s hard to imagine such a situation, yet it is a reality. People without the necessary understanding or preparation are often sent into ministry. Overzealous do-gooders can sometimes overwhelm you with their well-intentioned efforts. The Lord makes disciples, but He doesn’t undergo discipleship in anyone’s place. That is your privilege and mine. The outcome of someone’s work without the proper preparation that discipleship offers will be the opposite of what God intended. You will know the value of your work by the way you learn and prepare practically for it. Throwing yourself into such work without understanding it or without thorough preparation makes you the impostor surgeon, wielding a scalpel with a fake diploma.
If we consider the circumstances surrounding the dismissal of nurse Sarah Kuteh (which was officially due to economic cutbacks), shortly after she asked a patient, “Would you like me to pray for you?” the dynamics of the situation speaks for itself. If she was not guilty of the “sins” she was accused of—imposing her religion on someone, exploiting the vulnerability of patients before surgery, or waking up a patient prior to their procedure—then her actions were nothing more than an echo of Jesus’s own question: “Do you want to get well?” Is that truly an abuse of power? Is asking someone if they want to be healed a violation of their rights? Or could it be argued that not asking is, in fact, the most brutal form of neglect? How can anyone know that a particular person does not want to be asked—or perhaps is even crying out to God for that very question? Why should someone be deprived of this privilege in the name of “respect”? Beyond the details and implications of this British nurse’s case, the situation itself warrants our attention.
The qualifications of a worker must be evaluated before God, not humans, but that worker must never act indifferently or in defiance of the world they seek to bless: “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.”[5] The fact that Sarah asked before offering to pray, and refrained when she was told no, makes her just such a “worker who does not need to be ashamed.” It is far more shameful to ignore the high-level scientific research demonstrating the remarkable effects of faith and that of a positive attitude on the healing process. Ignorance in this area is unacceptable for anyone advocating for the restoration of human well-being, and disobedience is worse than ignorance. To deprive someone of this knowledge is as harmful as imposing one’s religion on them. In the following sections of this article, I’d like to explore what it truly means to be a disciple of Jesus.
Priority
Life and well-being hold absolute priority. Nothing is more urgent or important than saving lives and doing good. In a tragicomic episode, an American insurance company condemned Chesley Sullenberger, the hero pilot who saved 155 lives on the Hudson River, for not following the prescribed sequence of operations as outlined in the guidelines. The critics would have been satisfied to preserve the order on paper, even if it meant losing 155 lives. No further comment is needed.
Jesus affirmed the principle of prioritising life and humanity, even when this principle conflicts with what we consider moral or religious law: “Then He said to them, ‘The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.’”[6] Any other institutions—be it the church, family, religion, science, or otherwise—also exist for the benefit of humanity and should be viewed only through the light that reveals the true Light: “For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.”[7]
Adaptation
Jesus never performed an act of kindness without considering the specific circumstances of the person He sought to save. His question was always, “Do you believe this?” before He intervened. His words, “I will not impose any other burden on you,” reflect His deep understanding of human limitations. What means of communication can truly convey a truth or good intention to my neighbour? A painting, a gesture, music, a facial expression—or, in one word, love—can universally communicate what other methods might fail to express.
A true disciple of Jesus would never expect someone to read or understand a piece of literature in a language foreign to them. Paul expressed this clearly: “If then I do not grasp the meaning of what someone is saying, I am a foreigner to the speaker, and the speaker is a foreigner to me.”[8] This is why Philip asked the Ethiopian eunuch, “Do you understand what you are reading?”[9] He then proceeded to explain Isaiah 53 in a language the man could comprehend. Similarly, Paul’s approach to preaching was remarkably adapted to the individual and their situation. He preached one way in Athens, another way in Malta, and yet differently in Jerusalem. He followed the same principle as Jesus: “The Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken.” The same goes for any disciple of Jesus.
Nathan, for instance, did not rush to confront David about his sin. He waited almost a year, and when he finally spoke, he did so in a manner that only the Holy Spirit could have inspired. His goal was to restore the sinner to righteousness, not to lose him in the entanglements of justice. If the spirit, methods, and approaches someone uses are not in harmony with Jesus, that person is not driven by the Holy Spirit but by their own spirit. This is a form of idolatry, both destructive and self-destructive. Faith should never be imposed, and no one should be “tortured” with arguments to force conviction. In this sense, the Inquisition offers more than just historical lessons.
We are not the measure of all things—our views are not the standard. God is the true measure. Peter himself overcame the blindness that many still suffer from, saying, “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right.”[10]
When I advise someone to make a decision based on my words, do those words truly reflect the belief I hold with all my heart? Or has my faith long since faded, leaving me to preach only its ashes? Consider the example from Scripture: “Some Jews who went around driving out evil spirits tried to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who were demon-possessed. They would say, ‘In the name of the Jesus whom Paul preaches, I command you to come out.’”[11]
The humility of C.S. Lewis resonates deeply here: “He whom I bow to only knows to whom I bow.” In other words, it is not I who holds the full truth about God, but God Himself. No one truly knows God in His entirety except God.
The embodiment of the message
Take Desmond Doss, the heroic medic from Okinawa, as a prime example. He didn’t need to preach his faith while carrying wounded American and Japanese soldiers on stretchers. His actions spoke louder than any sermon could. People understood who he was and what he believed by the way he lived. Let us ensure we speak in a language that others can understand, and that we are truly living the message we intend to convey before we even say a word. “You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”[12] This biblical passage does not say, “You have a letter” or “You read a letter” or “You give others a letter to read.” Instead, it says, “You show that you are…!”
We must never demand of others what we refuse to be ourselves. We must not preach what we are not. The Word must first be born within us before we can hope to share it with others. We are called to be Christ’s living “letter”; there are moments when words become unnecessary.
Distortion
One of the constant temptations for a servant of God is to turn everything into a reflection of the work they are doing. They are tempted to overlook circumstances, and especially people, focusing only on the goal of their mission. Sometimes, at funerals, things are said and preached that have no connection to the situation and are utterly inappropriate for the occasion. “It’s a good opportunity for evangelism,” such a speaker might say. No, a thousand times no. A funeral is a time for comforting and healing the hearts torn apart by the loss of a beloved and irreplaceable person. To turn such a moment into something else, no matter what that “something” is, amounts to cruelty, sadism, and appalling opportunism.
At Lazarus’ grave, Jesus wept. He didn’t preach about weeping. He offered the grieving sisters what He truly was: the hope of resurrection, embodied in Himself. He spoke from who He was and through who He was. We, too, are called to follow in His footsteps if we wish to partake in God’s blessing.
A bridge over time
How will I view the work I do today when I look back on it in the future? “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.”[13]
So, what is God’s answer to our prayer, “Lord, teach us how to work”? Is it some technique, an effective method, or a professional secret? What is the ultimate goal we seek in the work of our lives? Is it about numbers or quantity? Is it about gaining a territory, large or small? No. The answer to our prayer, and the true aim of the faithful worker, is found in the Great Worker of the vineyard Himself: “It is enough for students to be like their teachers.”[14] This is the answer, and this is the goal of the life and work to which we have been called on this earth.
“Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”[15]
