The Quiet Miracle

Today, I was listening to a podcast from Sally Lloyd-Jones, author of the Jesus Storybook Bible. She was conversing with Sir David Suchet, best known for his portrayal of Agatha Christie’s Poirot, about several topics of faith.

One topic of interest to me was when they talked about the miracle at Cana where Jesus turned the water into wine. David noted that one particular thing struck him about the miracle in that Jesus appeared to say or do nothing to bring it about. He didn’t offer a blessing. He didn’t wave His arms or lift up a prayer. He told the servants to fill up the large pitchers with water and when the taster got to them, the water had become wine.

It was a quiet miracle. Michael Card calls it the unmiraculous miracle. It’s notable that presumably no one at the wedding ever found out about the miracle except for the servants who poured the water. Not the wedding hosts or the guests. Not the bride or groom. Only the servants.

Jesus was quietly inaugurating His kingdom and only a few servants were in on it. I’m reminded of how the first people to witness the Incarnation were shepherds who had been out in the fields tending their flocks. The first witnesses of the resurrection were the same women whose testimony would not have counted in a court of law back in that day.

Again and again, Jesus chose the nobodies of the world to be the first to hear His good news. The gospel wasn’t given to the famous or the rich or the powerful at first, but to those discounted and outcast and disregarded by everyone else. But they were the ones Jesus chose.

Isn’t that how it works even now. To those who feel forgotten or left out, Jesus sees you. To those that nobody counts as worth anything, Jesus thought you were worth dying for. To those who sometimes feel like they’re taking up space in the world, Jesus has invited you to be a part of His Great Commission and to be His disciples. Even now, the gospel of Jesus is for you. Even you. Even me.

Easter Saturday 2026

“This is my Father’s world:
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the Ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
Why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King: let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad!” (Maltbie D. Babcock)

This is the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I don’t know of any faith tradition that observes this day. I imagine that everyone needs a break after Maundy Thursday and Good Friday before Easter Sunday. Besides, what would you celebrate or honor?

As far as we know, nothing happened. I know the Bible talks about how Jesus preached to the spirits in prison between the crucifixion and the resurrection, but I’m honestly not sure what that means. Did Jesus actually descend into hell to proclaim His victory? Was He preaching through Noah to those before the flood? Better minds than mine have had differing opinions for decades.

I do know that most likely the disciples were locked away in a secret room, grieving and terrified of being discovered. Their Lord had just died. They thought the dream was over. Any thought of a future kingdom was as dead as the Rabbi they had followed for three years.

But we have the blessing of hindsight. We can look back, knowing what the next day would bring. We know that those same disciples who had abandoned Jesus in the garden and watched from afar as He was brutally executed would be the same ones to proclaim the gospel with supernatural boldness, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer as Jesus had suffered.

It does seem sometimes that the wrong seems so strong. From every headline, it seems like evil is winning. But we know that this is still the Father’s world. Jesus is still ruler. We know, and one day the whole world will know. So we can look forward with hope and not despair like so many in the world do.

Easter Sunday is a reminder that evil and wrong have already been defeated. Death is not the end. Those who we love and lose who are in the Lord are not lost forever, but are in the very presence of Jesus, and we will see them again.

“And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles’ wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise” (Chris Tomlin / Jesse Reeves / Louie Giglio / Matt Maher)

Palm Sunday 2026

Something I read today has stuck with me all day. Today we celebrate Palm Sunday, when the crowds were yelling and singing as Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey in clear fulfillment of an Old Testament Messianic prophecy. Yet those were the same ones who were weeping over His death just a few days later.

I wonder what they were expecting. Were they hoping that Jesus would somehow lead an overthrow of Rome and restore independence to Israel? Were they hoping He would set Himself up as a King over Israel?

He didn’t have an army that they could see. He never once spoke about raising up an army. He never told them they needed to rebel against Roman rule. In fact, He’s the one who told them to pay their raxes because the coins which bore Ceasar’s likeness belonged to Caesar.

I wonder how many understood that the kingdom Jesus kept talking about was not one of this world. It wasn’t defined by boundaries or geography. It was God’s active rule in the hearts of all who would believe in His name and have eternal life and be indwelled by His Holy Spirit. It was the Church that would explode in numbers after He ascended back into heaven.

But most of them didn’t get it. Jesus even said they wouldn’t. Their hardness of heart and spiritual blindness kept them from seeing what was right in front of them. Only a few understood, and even they didn’t fully realize what was happening until after Jesus rose from the dead. Even the twelve were most likely expecting what the crowds were expecting.

No one could have foreseen a suffering Messiah. No one predicted that instead of leading a rebellion against Rome, He would lay down His life for them and His own people and the whole world. No one was prepared for Him to die, especially not on a cross reserved for the worst of criminals in a manner that was the worst kind of torture the human mind could conceive.

But to those who believed, He gave the right to become sons and daughters of the living God.