Paul on the island of Malta

Acts 28:1-9 (TNIV) -

1 Once safely on shore, we found out that the island was called Malta.2 The islanders showed us unusual kindness. They built a fire and welcomed us all because it was raining and cold.3 Paul gathered a pile of brushwood and, as he put it on the fire, a viper, driven out by the heat, fastened itself on his hand.4 When the islanders saw the snake hanging from his hand, they said to each other, “This man must be a murderer; for though he escaped from the sea, the goddess Justice has not allowed him to live.”5 But Paul shook the snake off into the fire and suffered no ill effects.

6 The people expected him to swell up or suddenly fall dead; but after waiting a long time and seeing nothing unusual happen to him, they changed their minds and said he was a god.
7 There was an estate nearby that belonged to Publius, the chief official of the island. He welcomed us to his home and showed us generous hospitality for three days.8 His father was sick in bed, suffering from fever and dysentery. Paul went in to see him and, after prayer, placed his hands on him and healed him.9 When this had happened, the rest of the sick on the island came and were cured.

My thoughts -

How primitive, how superstitious these islanders were. That's my first reaction to this story, on an emotional level. These poor savages from the past just don't have our knowledge and understanding. Paul gets bit by a snake and it must be divine justice. He doesn't die so he must be a god. These poor people couldn't help it, they just didn't know any better.

Paul, after the incident with the snake, gets taken in by Pubius, whose father was ailing. Paul heals the father through prayer and so the rest of the sick on the island go to him to be healed as well. These poor, primitive (by today's standards) people didn't know any better than that Paul could heal them and so he did.

I can remember back when I was a youth. We were at a retreat and a friend of mine got really sick. A bunch of us didn't realize that we couldn't heal him through prayer and so we laid hands on him, prayed for his illness to leave him. Afterward he stood up as though he'd never been sick. He was writhing on the floor in unbearable pain not two minutes before.

It's amazing what child-like faith can do. Somewhere along the way I seem to have lost mine. Everything is weighed against reason. Everything is impossible until proven otherwise. I need empirical data. I need reasoned, rational arguments. Stuff needs to, at the bare minimum, make sense. By and large that may be a better way to be. It's safer, at least. You're far less likely to get taken advantage of if you're skeptical of everything.

And yet I miss the mystery that has been replaced by common sense. I miss the wonder that has been replaced by knowledge. And I miss not knowing that we can't heal people by laying hands on them and praying for their needs.

Maybe there's room in me for both knowledge and wonder. I don't know right now.