The Word That Heals

It’s every parent’s worst nightmare: a sick child. You want to help. You want to make them feel better. You give them Tylenol to ease the fever, maybe the aches and pains. You call the doctor, hoping there’s some medicine that can make them well. But what happens when the reply is, “There is no medicine. There’s nothing that will make your child better”?

The depths of despair indeed. And that is where this man was when he came to Jesus. His son was dying, and he was powerless to stop it.

There was nothing he could do himself.
The doctors he had employed could do nothing.
He was helpless.

Then he heard that Jesus was nearby—the same Jesus who had changed water into wine, showing Himself to be greater than the prophets before Him, the very Word of God made flesh. This was the Jesus who healed the lame and made them walk, healed the mute and made them speak, healed the deaf and made them hear.

Jesus was his last hope. To borrow a phrase from football, He was the “Hail Mary.”

So the man went to Jesus and begged Him to heal his son. But Jesus’ response was strange:
“Unless you see signs and wonders, you will not believe.”

We would all be confused by such a reply. Imagine going to a doctor and saying, “My child needs medicine,” and the doctor responding, “Unless you see signs and wonders, the medicine will never help.” Still, the man pleads: “Sir, come down before my child dies.”

And Jesus—whether weary or simply calm, we can’t know—says simply: “Go; your son will live.”

The man believed the word that Jesus spoke. He believed that when this man said something, it must come to pass. So he went on his way. As he was returning home, his servants met him with news—his heart must have stopped within him, not knowing whether the message would bring despair or joy.

And they said to him: “Your son is recovering!”

He asked them the hour when the fever left him, and they said, “Yesterday at the seventh hour—the fever left him.” That was about 1 p.m., the very hour when Jesus had said, “Your son will live.”

And now the man went beyond believing the word; he believed the One who spoke it. He and all his household believed that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God.

It might seem strange to us—cart before the horse—to believe the message but not the messenger. How could you believe what Jesus said without believing that Jesus is God? Yet that’s common today. People like the words of Jesus but not the person of Jesus. They like the red letters in the Bible—especially the comforting ones—but they reject the One who speaks them.

They’ll say, “Jesus was a good moral teacher who taught us to love our enemies and treat others the way we want to be treated.” But when told that Jesus is God, they protest: “No, He was just a man. The Church made Him divine.”

But what about all the times Jesus claimed to be God? What about when people picked up stones to kill Him for blasphemy? What about when He said, “Before Abraham was, I AM,” or “I AM the Bread of Life,” or “I AM the Good Shepherd”? Those are not the words of a mere moral teacher—they are the words of God Himself.

And still today, false religions try to separate Jesus from His divinity. Jehovah’s Witnesses say Jesus was created, not eternal. Mormons say He was a man who became a god—but not the God of Scripture.

The world wants the message of Jesus without the Jesus of the message.

Many wish faith could be proven by signs and wonders. “If Jesus would just show up in my room,” they say, “then I would believe.” I once spoke with an atheist who told me, “If Jesus were really God, He would have explained DNA.” I said, “How would He explain DNA to people who didn’t even know cells existed?” He replied, “Exactly—that’s why Jesus isn’t God.”

It would be easier to believe if Jesus showed up to each of us with evidence tailored to our doubts. But Scripture tells us: “We walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7)

If you reduce Jesus to a mere moral teacher, you lose the cross, the resurrection, the forgiveness of sins, and eternal life. Without the true Jesus, all that’s left is an empty tomb waiting for a casket.

But Christ’s tomb is empty—not because of decay, but because of victory.

The signs and wonders of God are all around us, though we often ignore them. You are one of them. I am one of them. All of creation is a living miracle. Your body, your cells, the balance of the air you breathe—all testify to a Creator’s design.

We demand signs and wonders, but they surround us daily. And the greatest of all is the Word of God Himself—the Word made flesh—who assures us of forgiveness, of salvation, of victory over death.

Even though we die, yet shall we live.
Death has no victory.
The darkness cannot overcome the light.

Christ is greater than our sin.
Christ is greater than our unbelief.
And you, fearfully and wonderfully made, are loved by the God who made you—the God who took on flesh, the God who bled upon the cross, the God who left the tomb empty as His promise to come again.

On the last day, you will stand beside Job, and in your flesh—with your own eyes—you will see your Redeemer upon the earth.

Let us never reduce Him to mere moral teaching. Morality is good—yes, the world would be far better if people truly loved their neighbors and enemies. But morality does not save.

The Ten Commandments do not make a Christian.
Christ does.

Faith in Him—the Word made flesh—is what saves.

In Greek, the word for “word” is logos.
We are not “logoans.”
We are Christians—made in His image, redeemed by His blood, sanctified by His Spirit.

Hold fast to that faith, for it is your very life.

In Christ’s name. Amen.