The wonder of healing

Estimated Reading time: 6 minutes · Written by Sarah Auger

In the midst of our sermon series From Weary to Wonder, we’ve been exploring some of the profound spiritual themes that emerged during our church’s time of prayer and fasting earlier this year. One of the most consistent and heartfelt topics that surfaced was healing—both for others and for ourselves.

Healing, however, is not a simple subject. It carries the weight of joy and sorrow, hope and disappointment. For many, it is a deeply personal matter, entangled with memories of unanswered prayers or miraculous interventions. As we journey together through this complex and sacred topic, my prayer is that we approach it with open hearts and a shared spirit of humility and compassion.

A complex tapestry of beliefs

Even within our own church community, the spectrum of beliefs about healing is wide and varied. Some believe with unwavering faith that God still heals miraculously today. Others hold to the idea that the gift of healing was unique to biblical times—granted to Jesus and His disciples. There are also those who believe in God's power to heal, but who have yet to see evidence of it, despite years of persistent prayer. And still others are thankful for the incredible advances in medical science, recognising the miraculous in treatments that would have been unimaginable a century ago.

Among us, there are stories of healing so astonishing that they defy medical explanation—we heard recently of a child within our church family that was healed from a serious illness, leaving doctors astounded. Yet at the same time, there are stories of deep grief, of faithful prayers met with silence, and of loved ones lost despite countless pleas for divine intervention.

Then there are those who have experienced the well-intentioned but misplaced prayers of others. A friend of mine, who is deaf, has often had people approach her to pray for healing she never asked for and does not desire. Her deafness is not a defect to be corrected but a part of her identity—her language, her culture, her being.

We must acknowledge all these realities: miraculous healing, unanswered prayers, the power of medicine, and the personal autonomy of those we seek to pray for. Healing, then, is not a one-size-fits-all topic, it is multifaceted, emotional, and sacred.

“Do not be afraid”, a biblical refrain

When we turn to Scripture, we find that healing is indeed significant—it appears 138 times throughout the Bible in physical, emotional, and spiritual contexts. Yet the most frequently repeated phrase in the Bible is not “be healed,” but rather, “do not be afraid”, appearing 365 times in the New International Version.

This is not a coincidence. It tells us something vital: before we consider healing, we must know that we are already held, already loved, already secure in the arms of our Heavenly Father. God's love is mentioned over 550 times in Scripture. That is the backdrop against which we must understand healing—not as a test of faith or a sign of divine favour, but within the overwhelming context of God's unconditional love and presence.

One of my favourite quotes comes from St. Teresa of Ávila: “This world is a beautiful bridge, but do not build your home on it.” We are passing through. Whether we experience healing in this life or not, this world is not our final destination. There is something more—something eternal and whole—waiting for us.

Pentecost and the gift of the Spirit

Today, as we mark Pentecost, we’re reminded of the gift of the Holy Spirit, given not just to the early church but to all believers. The same Spirit who empowered Peter to perform miracles in the Book of Acts is alive and active today. There is no biblical record suggesting that the Holy Spirit was taken away or that His gifts expired. On the contrary, the Spirit was poured out to dwell in all who follow Jesus.

In Acts 9, Peter heals Aeneas and raises Tabitha (also known as Dorcas) from the dead, miracles performed through the power of the Holy Spirit. But these weren’t performed for spectacle or spiritual theatre. These miracles served a purpose: to glorify God and reveal His compassionate nature.

For Aeneas, his healing caused many in the surrounding regions to turn to the Lord. For Tabitha, her resurrection allowed her to continue her ministry of serving the poor, particularly the widows in her community. Peter’s actions followed the pattern set by Jesus, and in doing so, showed us that healing was always meant to be about more than the physical—it was about revealing the heart of God.

Healing is not about perfect prayer

One of the common misconceptions surrounding healing is the belief that if we just pray correctly or have enough faith, healing will happen. But neither Peter’s healing ministry nor Jesus’ own miracles suggest this is true.

Peter didn’t heal in his own strength, nor did he require the recipient to meet a standard of belief. He simply said, “Jesus Christ heals you.” He used the same Greek word for “get up” as was used when Jesus was raised from the dead. That’s no accident, it signifies more than physical recovery. It symbolises resurrection life, a new beginning.

Pastor and theologian Tim Keller, when asked whether he believed he would be healed after his cancer diagnosis, replied: “Ultimately, I may or may not get healed. But God knows. So I pray for healing twice a day. The burden is not mine to bear.”

Tim Keller died in 2023, but not without leaving a powerful witness: healing is God’s responsibility, not ours. We pray, we trust, but we do not carry the weight of outcomes.

If you've ever been told that your lack of healing is due to insufficient faith or incorrect prayer, I want to say plainly: I am sorry. That is not the character of God. That is not the teaching of Scripture.

The God we worship is not one who shames us into belief, but who welcomes us as we are—frail, faithful, broken, and beloved. Dr Jack Deere once wrote, “Healing is not our responsibility, it is God’s. He can take both the glory and the blame.” God is big enough to hold our pain, our questions, and our anger.

Healing may not look like we expect

In John 5, we read about Jesus at the Pool of Bethesda. Surrounded by a multitude of sick and disabled people, He heals only one man—someone who had been ill for 38 years. Why just one? We don’t know. What we do know is this: Jesus could have healed everyone, but chose not to. This points to a divine mystery we may never fully understand on this side of eternity.

Healing, then, is not always about physical restoration. As Andy Davis, a member of our church and stroke survivor, writes in his book Healing or Hurting: “God is our healer, not just the fixer of our bodies. The healing he offers is far more profound than merely our physical state.” Sometimes healing comes in the form of peace, strength, or emotional restoration. Sometimes it looks like forgiveness. Sometimes it's the ability to carry on in the face of ongoing pain.

It may not be the person with the visible disability, but the one filled with jealousy, rage, or despair. God sees what we often cannot.

A glimpse of Heaven

So where does all of this leave us? With hope. Because while we live in a world that is still broken, we are also citizens of a kingdom that is coming, a kingdom where every tear will be wiped away.

In Revelation 21, we are given this promise:
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain.”

That is the ultimate healing, and it is promised to every single person who belongs to Christ.

As we reflect on this sacred mystery, may we be a church that rejoices with those who rejoice and mourns with those who mourn. A church that prays fervently for healing, while also sitting faithfully beside those who are suffering. A church that celebrates miracles and never forgets that our ultimate hope lies in eternity.

Let us write cards, make meals, sit in hospital waiting rooms, and simply be present. This is what it means to be family. This is what Pentecost compels us to do: to take the message of Jesus to the world, through action as much as through words.

The original teaching has been edited for clarity and brevity; This is not a transcript.