by Christa von Zychlin

Why! Who makes much of a miracle? As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles.
—Walt Whitman, "Miracles"

I’ll admit it, I’ve long been a devotee of special signs from God. It all started when I was a kindergartner in Sunday school. Mrs. Carlson gave us a lesson on Gideon and his fleece. She brought an actual wool fleece and allowed us to pass it around with our eager and slightly sweaty little hands as she told the amazing story of a man who dared to ask God to prove himself: "If it’s really you, God, then when I lay out my wool fleece overnight, make it wringing wet, while the ground around it stays bone dry." And God does this for Gideon — God shows him a sign! As if that isn’t enough, Gideon dares to ask God again, "All right, just to be really, really sure, please make the opposite happen tonight: This time, keep the fleece dry and make the ground wet." And sure enough, God did that, too.

Inspired by this story, I sprang into action that very week. Sharon was our neighbor’s granddaughter, and she was just my age. Every other weekend she stayed with her grandparents. I desperately wanted her to be my friend, but I was shy and didn’t know if Sharon really liked me or not. So I faced the hedge around our house, fingered the thorns, and prayed what I figured was a Gideon prayer. "God," I prayed, "if you really want us to be friends, send Sharon outside right now." Not a minute later, I heard her voice singing in my ear: "Christa! Do you want to play?"

And that’s how it started. I tried out for a school play because I had received a sign to audition in the form of a butterfly by my window (I got the part). I thought I should date a particular boy because he passed by my locker exactly between noon and 2 o’clock (the relationship went nowhere). I even chose my college, in part, because the brochure arrived on the day I had prayed for a sign (never mind that I had sent away for more information from that particular school just a few weeks earlier).

It all reminds me of the story circulating on the Internet: Not long after starting a new diet, a man drives by his favorite bakery and happens to glance at the array of pastries in the display window. He thinks that maybe it’s no accident that he finds himself in this situation, so he prays, "Lord, if it be thy will for me to have one of those cinnamon rolls, please create a parking space for me right in front of the bakery." And sure enough, on the eighth time around the block, praise God, there it was!

Indeed, stories about people looking for signs of the divine range from just plain goofy all the way to poignant and sublime.

HUNGRY FOR THE HOLY
On her way to choir every Wednesday night Audrey sees a little pile of flowers and candles next to the wall under the expressway. There’s a water stain on the concrete there that some people say is an apparition of the Virgin Mary. Rather than scoffing, Audrey recognizes in this gritty shrine a touching evidence of people’s genuine yearning for an experience of the holy. People can be so hungry for God that they start seeing signs in all sorts of unlikely places.

One famous incident involves a woman named Maria who was frying a burrito when she noticed that the scorches on the tortilla resembled the mournful face of Jesus — the tortilla was sold on eBay for $27.66 plus shipping and handling. A sour–creamand–onion potato chip with a similar "face" went for more than $200.

Last summer in Pittsburgh, a woman with a bad back saw the crucified Jesus in MRI images of her spine. There’s no evidence that she tried to make a profit from her unique encounter, however. Meanwhile, in a tongue–in–cheek move, the Churches Advertising

Network (headquartered in London) recently began an ad campaign that includes a picture of Jesus’ face visible in the suds on the side of a glass of beer. The caption reads, "Where will you find him?" The ad has gotten considerable attention — but will it help people to be more aware of Jesus’ presence?

GOD SIGHTINGS
It is natural for humans to look for signs and physical expressions of God’s love and God’s will for us. I believe that God created us to long for a voice from heaven, to await a dream of startling clarity, to peer into everyday surfaces in search of Christ’s face.

And yet, as a Lutheran, I recall Martin Luther’s words on this subject. He wrote, "...we must in all things have regard to the word of God. To it faith must attach itself. Without it, either there are no signs and works of God, or else, existing, and regarded with the physical eyes only, without reference to the Word, they cause one to open his mouth in wonderment for a while like everything else which is new, but they do not profit the soul nor do they appeal to faith" (The Sermons of Martin Luther, "The Christian Race for the Prize," Baker Books, 2000).

In other words, it is important that there is a consistency between the signs I seek (and sometimes receive) and the true promptings of the Holy Spirit, as they are revealed in the Holy Scripture. The Bible is filled with "God sightings," which embolden me as I look for evidence of God’s power and care in my life.

From Abraham’s stargazing to the shepherds guarding their flocks by night, the Bible is filled with stories that describe the skies as witnesses to God’s work and plans. Isn’t it natural that you and I should look up and see the wonder of God’s world revealed?

My friend Marit is a painter who is always seeing God’s artistry in the heavens. She told me that she was first startled, then awed, around the time of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks when she saw a sunset that looked like an angel with spread wings. She even took some photographs to show me. Sure enough, with the eyes of faith and an echo of Psalm 19:1 in our minds ("The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork"), why yes, the evening sky in the photograph really does look like a bright angel of power and hope.

When her friend died recently, Marit told me how she was profoundly comforted by a striking formation of black and purple storm clouds. To her they were a sign of God’s creation weeping and storming over the bitter fact of death in this world. Her story reminded me of the morning my father died, years ago. As we walked out of the hospital that final time, geese flew in formation above us. They called out, a call of complaint . . . and hope. To me it was a sign, because my father loved geese. I believe that it was the finger of God beckoning those geese across the sky. Psalm 8 came alive for me that day: "When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers...what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?" (Psalm 8:3a, 4)

SIGNS AND WONDERS
As I grow older (and maybe wiser), I am less inclined to demand special signs and interventions and more inclined to see evidence of God’s care and grace in the ordinary.

I know people who have felt prompted to call an old friend, start a new job search, or begin a conversation about adoption because of their dreams during sleep.

Should I be surprised that God might still speak to people through dreams when biblical characters from Jacob and Joseph in the Old Testament to Pilate’s wife in the Gospel have experienced God’s leading in this way? That does not mean, of course, that all dreams should be taken as the voice of God (that could have some bizarre consequences). However, when I reflect on an ordinary dream in light of what God teaches me in Scripture, I may well recognize a divine message conveyed.

Most often, though, I now receive most of my signs from God in my church, before an altar made of painted wood and a baptismal font filled with water from the tap.

There I see the mother of three active children, a professor at the local university, married to a prominent businessman, who stops me after worship. She’s been sending her kids to Sunday school for years, but she’s not sure if she was ever baptized herself. She was adopted and there are no records from her early childhood. She wonders: Could we do it at our church, and could we do it soon? Is it too late?

"It’s never too late. Any time is the right time to be baptized," I assure her, and I marvel at her hunger for this sign from God. Jesus’ words from Matthew 11:28–29 come totally unbidden into my mind, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."

This busy woman’s urgent request becomes a specific message for my own harried life: "Remember, you are baptized! Remember, you are a child of God!"

Another Sunday, Samantha, with her hands open at the altar, becomes a "secret agent" of God’s word. Samantha has a genetic disorder, Prader–Willi Syndrome, which causes significant learning disabilities and an insatiable desire to eat. At the Lord’s Table, however, this terrible affliction becomes transformed, for just a moment, into a laser-sharp awareness of God’s gift in the sacrament.

Samantha fixes her bright eyes on me as I walk toward her with the freshly baked Communion bread. Her hunger, deep in her belly, compels her to practically snatch the bread out of my hand. I have no doubt that by faith, she is receiving exactly the Bread of Life that she so desperately needs. And I need that same miracle of Christ’s presence in the life–giving bread and wine just as desperately.

Appearances of God? Signs and wonders? Marks of the holy? "As to me," (to echo Walt Whitman) "I know of nothing else but miracles." How grateful I am that God does not sneer at our desire for signs, but is generous with physical expressions of the miraculous. God binds them together with the Word, and they become extraordinary bursts of light, illuminating our ordinary lives.