God Brings Healing Through Physical Things
Introduction
The idea that God uses physical things to bring healing has a strong basis in the
Bible, and has been explored and experienced throughout the church’s history and theological reflection. We will explore this idea biblically, looking at two main passages: 2 Kings 5:1-19, and James 5:13-16. Then, we will explore what Christian theology has had to say about creation, the sacraments, and healing. Lastly, we will explore some of the ways the church has experienced God’s healing through physical things.
Biblical Research
Introduction
From the beginning, Scripture presents a positive vision of the physical world. Physical things are good, and interact with spiritual realities quite naturally. Against a worldview that drives a wedge between spiritual and material creation, Alexander Schmemann summarizes the Bible’s vision:
In the Bible the food that man eats, the world of which he must partake in order to live, is given to him by God, and it is given as communion with God. The world as man’s food is not something “material” and limited to material functions, thus different from, and opposed to, the specifically “spiritual” functions by which man is related to God. All that exists is God’s gift to man, and it all exists to make God known to man, to make man’s life communion with God.”[1]
This same integrated vision applies to human anthropology. Despite the long tradition of a dualistic view that fundamentally separates the human soul and the body, Biblical scholarship is moving more towards a type of monism. Nancey Murphy summarizes:
A survey of the literature of theology and biblical studies throughout the twentieth century, then, shows a gradual displacement of a dualistic account of the person, with its correlative emphasis on the afterlife conceived in terms of the immortality of the soul. First there was the recognition of the holistic character of biblical conceptions of the person, often while still presupposing temporarily separable “parts.” Later there developed a holistic but also physicalist account of the person, combined with an emphasis on bodily resurrection.[2]
The soul and body are an integrated reality, not meant to be separated (when this separation happens at death, it is an aberration due to sin, not God’s creational intent). With this understanding of creation and anthropology in mind, it is no wonder that throughout Scripture, we see examples of God bringing healing (in a variety of ways, as complex and multifaceted as the human experience) through physical things. We will explore two significant passages, one from the Old Testament and one from the New, to gain more insight.
God Heals Namaan: 2 Kings 5:1-19
A striking story of God using physical things to heal comes in the narrative of the healing of Namaan, a skilled warrior and military commander from Aram, who is afflicted with leprosy. In this story, Namaan has a wife from Israel who suggests that the great prophet Elisha in the land of Israel could cure him. With his king’s blessing, Namaan goes.
Surprisingly, when he arrives at Elisha’s home, Elisha (who is eager to prove that God has the power to heal Namaan) does not meet him personally, but rather sends a messenger to direct Namaan to wash seven times in the Jordan River for his cleansing. Initially, Namaan is offended, not only because Elisha does not meet him, but because he thinks there are cleaner rivers in his own land. Namaan had expected Elisha to “come out to me and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy.” Biblical scholar Richard D. Nelson imagines Namaan’s entitled attitude this way: “The prophet should have come out to me (the pronoun is emphasized in Hebrew) and performed the sort of hocus-pocus I expect.”[3] Fortunately for Namaan, his servants urge him to at least give it a try, since it is an easy task; and his skin is miraculously healed.
It is striking that God brings healing to Namaan not through the waving of a hand or “hocus-pocus,” but through immersion in the Jordan River. Why did God choose this method? The story suggests at least four primary reasons. First, water is already a universal symbol of cleansing, so it is an apt choice for the cleansing of a widespread skin issue. The symbolic fittingness of using water for a cleansing miracle highlights a principle Francis MacNutt notes in a discussion about sacramental objects in healing prayer ministry: “The idea behind the sacramentals is that the common, ordinary elements that we use in our everyday lives can be blessed with a prayer in which a priest asks God to further endow them with his healing power to increase the natural curative powers they already possess.”[4] In these cases, supernatural grace is augmenting something that is already there. Second, it must be made clear that the healing is an act of God, and not of Elisha. In the story, Elisha’s agency is downplayed. “The narrative also teaches the difference between the magic of a wonder-worker, with its impressive legerdemain, and the power of God mediated by a prophet. Elisha does not even have to come near Naaman (cf. Luke 7:1-10), for God is the doer of this deed, not the prophet.”[5] The unique power of God is also highlighted by the excessiveness of the healing. Namaan’s skin is not just restored to his previous adult skin, but comes out looking more youthful (5:14). Third, God needs to heal Namaan not only of his leprosy, but of his ethnocentrism.[6] His earlier condescending remarks about the Jordan River and the land of Israel (5:12) needed to be proven wrong. Namaan would also have a change of heart towards the land itself after he is healed, even requesting to bring some back with him on his return trip (5:17). Fourth, physically immersing himself in the Jordan River seven times (the Biblical number of completeness) is a physical picture of humility and total submission (just as Baptism by immersion is a picture of submitting to God and dying to oneself).[7] Namaan’s immersion in the Jordan corresponds to the submission to Yahweh he professes by the end of the story (5:18). These four reasons for this particular method of healing allow God to expand the significance of the experience, and surely secure it in Namaan’s memory. As an embodied creature (perhaps especially attuned to his physicality because of his affliction), Namaan would be powerfully formed and indelibly marked by this experience.
Anointing with Oil: James 5:14-16
In the New Testament, God chooses to bring healing through the physical substance of oil and the physical act of anointing. The first place we see this is Mark 6:13, in Jesus’ ministry. Later, in the epistle of James, anointing with oil is connected with prayer, faith, confession, and physical healing (we know it is physical healing because the Greek word for sickness in this passage refers to a physical malady, not just a spiritual malady).[8]
Why oil? There is no explicit explanation as to why, but we can rule out a purely medicinal view, even though oil was thought to have therapeutic properties (e.g. Jer 8:22; Ps 104:15) at the time, reminding us of God’s propensity for augmenting the natural healing properties of things.[9] In this passage, oil is most clearly portrayed not as a medicine, but as the medium through which God’s healing power is at work, when used in conjunction with faith-filled prayer “in the name of the Lord” (Jas 5:10, NIV). One positive reason for the use of oil is symbolism. In Scripture, the action of anointing tends to symbolize the empowering presence of the Holy Spirit (e.g. 1 Sam 16:13; Lk 4:18, 2 Cor 1:21-22). Another reason for using oil is the relational dimension, for anointing is generally not a solo activity (though in Psalm 23, it is God who anoints the psalmist’s head with oil). The one who is sick is exhorted to not just to call the elders, but to call them near (the Greek verb proskalesasthō has this connotation).[10] They are inviting proximity. Anointing could very well have involved physically touching a person who is being anointed (the laying on of hands is a biblical theme, and another way God’s power comes through physical things). Physical touch is often connected with healing in Jesus’ ministry. In Jesus’ healings, the supernatural healing goes hand-in-glove with what psychology recognizes: relational connection and appropriate physical touch have healing power. Loneliness is considered by health experts to be an epidemic, and a major public health challenge in the United States.[11] One need only think of stories of lonely people who go to get their hair cut just so they can have the experience of being physically touched by another person.
Besides the above observations, it is hard to say with certainty why God chooses to use oil; and there are no directions about how much oil to use, or where to anoint (though anointing the head with oil is referenced multiple times in the Bible (e.g. Ps 23:5, 1 Sam 16:13). We may presume that was common, though it is also easy to imagine the oil being applied at the site of the malady). James does not seem concerned about explaining exactly how it works; but it is at least clear that God wants his people to use oil for healing.
Conclusion
These two biblical passages are representative of the Bible as a whole, in that they show us a God who uses physical things to bring healing. This should not surprise us, because God dignifies creation at its inception, and most profoundly in the incarnation. These passages do not offer us neatly systematized teaching about how or why God chooses to use physical things like oil and the Jordan River to bring healing. Some things remain mysterious; but it is clear that God does use physical things to bring healing.
Theological Research
Introduction
Reflecting theologically on how God uses physical things to bring healing requires us to think theologically about a number of topics. Chief among these will be the theology of creation, sacramental theology, and the theology of healing.
Creation is Good
The Bible presents a positive view of creation from the beginning (Gen 1:31). The biblical emphasis on the goodness of creation stands in stark contrast to some of the religious beliefs of Israel’s neighbors at the time of the writing of Genesis. For example, the Babylonians believed humanity was created by mixing the blood of the demon Qingu with clay, thus undermining the dignity of humanity.[12] In the Bible, creation arises from God’s sovereign and total control over chaos, and is directed towards his delight and the delight of his creatures.
The dignity of creation has no greater support than the incarnation of God the Son. If the material world God created is good enough for God to dwell in among us, and we are saved by Christ’s material body, what possible argument against its dignity could stand? Early Christian thinkers recognized this. John of Damascus said “I do not worship matter, I worship the God of matter, who became matter for my sake, and deigned to inhabit matter, who worked out my salvation through matter. I will not cease from honouring that matter which works my salvation.”[13]
Although an orthodox understanding of the incarnation should promote an appreciation for creation, it also carried the danger of overemphasizing Jesus’ divinity and underemphasizing his humanity. For example, the battle against Arianism (which rejected the Son’s full divinity and equality with the Father) led to such a strong emphasis on the Christ’s divinity that his humanity was sometimes neglected. Scholars have suggested that this led to a tendency to over-spiritualize the Christian life, in contrast to the often down-to-earth ministry of Jesus.[14]
Throughout Christian history, there have been religious and philosophical movements that have been uncomfortable with creation and questioned its inherent goodness. Among the most infamous was Gnosticism. According to David M. Scholer, “The foundational conviction of the Gnostics is a radical anti-cosmic dualism in which all that is material— the world and the body— is seen as evil and as the creation of a lesser, inferior god.”[15] In contrast to the Gnostics, the Apostles’ Creed insisted that the one true God was the creator, and that Jesus came in the flesh.
Another philosophical movement was Platonism. The philosophical legacy of Plato looms large in Western thought. Plato (and other early Hellenistic philosophers) believed in a dualism between soul and body, with the body being likened to a mere prison for the soul.[16] This discouraged a high view of created reality. Although this worldview contradicted the Hebraic one, it still had to be contested in the early church, and its influence continues today. Theologian Jürgen Moltmann lamented the “Platonization of Christianity” in the twentieth century, describing it as a sensibility which “takes the form of a kind of hostility to the body, a kind of remoteness from the world, and a preference for the inner experiences of the soul rather than the sensory experiences of sociality and nature.”[17]
The problem of evil leads to question[ADA1] , because it is clear that physical things can be used for evil, and even God’s good creatures can turn away from him, such as Satan and his demons. Did God create evil? An influential way Christians navigated this issue was to insist that evil is not a thing in itself. Augustine clarified that “All of nature, therefore, is good, since the Creator of all nature is supremely good… Nothing evil exists in itself, but only as an evil aspect of some actual entity.”[18] Perspectives like this helped Christians hold together their belief in the goodness of creation and the fallenness of the world.
Sacramental Theology
Having established the goodness of creation, we can consider how God uses specific physical things to mediate grace in a sacramental manner. According to J.A. Zimmerman, “Sacraments are visible, sensible signs mediating invisible realities. They are externalized in worship (liturgy), are a means of holiness and part of God’s economy of salvation.”[19]
The idea that God can use physical objects as means of grace is most profoundly based in the incarnation. James F. White reminds us that “Jesus himself, as the visible manifestation of God, is the primordial sacrament.”[20] Paul describes Jesus as “the image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15), while John similarly emphasizes the physical nature of Jesus’ revelation of the love of God (1 Jn 1:1). The glory of God exceeds creation, but is apparently not incompatible with created things like a human body, made up of atoms and molecules.
The specific things we call sacraments should not be considered outliers in an otherwise unenchanted world, but rather intensified manifestations of the sacramental character of creation in general.[21] John Macquarrie writes
Things are more than just aggregates of matter lying around the universe. They have the potentiality of lighting up for us the mystery of God himself… So we do not see him directly, but because he is universally present, there is, shall we say, a sacramental potentiality in virtually everything.[22]
Similarly, Ben Patterson writes “The presence of God that we see and experience in Communion is a sharper focus, a greater concentration, of the mystery of his presence in the world he created.”[23]
For centuries, Christian practice has used particular physical things in worship to experience God’s grace. Among the most important have been water, bread, and wine, used for Baptism and Eucharist. Debates have raged about exactly how these physical objects mediate God’s grace, and what role faith has to play in this. The great missionary and ecumenical theologian Lesslie Newbigin cuts through some of the fog and historical baggage associated with these debates, and makes a helpful observation about the biblical perspective on Baptism:
How is faith related to baptism? If there is really faith, is baptism necessary? What is the use of baptism if there is no faith? Is baptism only a useful sign and seal? Or is it really true that God has circumscribed the blessings of the new covenant with this rite? So far as I can see, the New Testament writers of totally unconscious of these difficulties. It is simply taken for granted that baptism is that by which we are made members of the Body of Christ and participants in the Spirit.[24]
Newbigin’s observation reminds us that the Bible seems to be at ease with the idea that the physical water of Baptism serves a profound spiritual function.
A fruitful theological exercise is to consider exactly what we mean when we talk about things being material or spiritual, and consider if any of our tacit assumptions need to be reexamined. For example, modern science has blurred the lines between what is material and immaterial. Theologian Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen observes:
As is well known, in the theory of relativity, mass is nothing but a form of energy (in relation to the speed of light); in quantum mechanics, treating subatomic entities as particles is complementary to regarding them as probability waves; and so forth. The point here is that matter/physicality has become very elusive, virtually “nonmaterial.”[25]
What might this mean for how we imagine the difference between what is natural and supernatural? At the very least, modern science highlights that things are more complicated and mysterious than we once thought. This further reinforces the plausibility of the Christian understanding of sacramentality.
How God uses physical things to bring healing is not just about the physical things in isolation, but about how they are used, and the communication that occurs through them. Catholic theologian Edward Schillebeeckx notes that “The primary sacramental form of the Eucharist is therefore not simply ‘bread and wine,’ but the meal in which bread and wine are consumed. Sacraments are, after all, never isolated things, but human actions…”[26] Similarly, C.J Weborg writes, “Grace is neither material nor substantial but a relationship with God through Christ who is mediated to us in word and symbol...”[27] This means that to some degree, God brings healing through physical things by using them to communicate his love. Bread and wine in the context of the eucharistic meal are healing in part because they communicate Christ’s love to us tangibly. In some sense, they make Jesus physically present to us. Some modern theologians have used terms like “transignification” to describe this reality (even arguing that the bread and wine undergo ontological change because of what they come to signify), comparing it to gift giving between loved ones, where it is not just about the object being given, but about the love and care the object represents.[28] A significant example would be a wedding ring.
Healing
Our final theological step is to consider the Christian notion of healing. Healing occurs for human beings at multiple levels, from physical to spiritual to relational, and each can impact the others. Theologically, this highlights the unity of the human person. Newbigin writes: “The one thing that seems clear is that God has joined these two together, making man a body-soul unity, and that every attempt to separate them leads to disaster.”[29] In a footnote, he also observes “The modern developments of psychosomatic medicine are of deep interest in this connection, for they appear to indicate a recovery of the biblical understanding of the human person as a unity.”[30]
God can bring healing through physical things like medicine. This point may seem obvious, but it needs to be made, because some Christians erroneously view reliance on medicine (particularly psychiatric medicine) as a lack of faith. The dichotomy between trusting God and using medicine is false, however, because medicine can be understood as a gift from God, when used wisely. Our faith and spiritual wellbeing are not unaffected by our physical and mental wellbeing, and this reality needs to inform our approach to pastoral care.
The unity of the human person suggests that our emotional and spiritual health can directly affect our physical health. In this way, physical things functioning as symbolic expressions of God’s love can bring significant healing. We may think of the Communion meal, where bread and wine that have an objective existence outside of us, reminding us in in a healing way that we are justified by the work of Christ apart from our own righteousness.[31] Or we may think of the elders gathering around someone to anoint them with oil. Part of the healing is in the ritual itself, and the presence and love of the community made tangible. It may be hard to describe exactly how this healing happens in scientific terms; but trying to dissect the experience and understand it from outside the actual context in which it occurs may not be the right approach. As Moltmann writes, some things “can be known and understood very much better if they are seen in their relationships and co-ordinations with their particular environments and surroundings.”[32] In other words, some things can only be truly understood when we open ourselves up to the experience of them.
This is not to say that God does not use bread and wine and oil for miraculous healings in ways that psychology and communication theory cannot explain. We often see Jesus bringing miraculous healing using physical things. In his ministry, physical objects like mud (Jn 9:6), water (Jn 9:27), saliva (Mk 7:33, 8:23), and clothing (Mk 5:27-29) are sometimes involved. This pattern continues into the book of Acts, where handkerchiefs and aprons (Acts 19:12) and even Peter’s shadow (Acts 5:15) mediate God’s miraculous healing and deliverance. Even in the book of Revelation, there is a vision of the leaves of the tree of life bringing healing for the nations (Rev 22:2). Of course, this could be symbolic imagery, given the apocalyptic genre of Revelation; but it reinforces the Biblical picture of physical things bringing God’s healing. Post-biblical Christian history also has examples of healing involving physical things. Augustine writes at length about miraculous healings, and gives one poignant example: “I know that a young woman of Hippo was immediately dispossessed of a devil, on anointing herself with oil, mixed with the tears of the presbyter who had been praying for her.”[33]
Exactly why God would use physical things in the context of miraculous healings is often mysterious, and something we can only guess about; but perhaps, at least sometimes, there is something analogous to the principle of grace perfecting nature (famously articulated by Thomas Aquinas) at work.[34] We have already seen hints of this in Namaan’s miraculous healing in water, and Francis MacNutt’s teaching about the use of sacramentals in Catholic healing prayer. It appears God sometimes chooses to perform miracles that augment the healing power naturally inherent in things.
Conclusion
The overall theological picture that emerges is one where creation is good, and capable of mediating divine healing power. God heals in direct and indirect ways through physical things, whether that be through their physical properties, the truths they communicate in specific contexts, or simply in miraculous ways that go beyond human understanding. The fact that we are embodied creatures should make it unsurprising that God uses physical things to bring healing.
Conclusion
The Bible and the Christian theological tradition give a strong basis for affirming that God uses physical things to bring healing. This is not meant to devolve into the perennial human temptation towards superstition and created things (Rom 1:25); but it is meant to affirm and give thanks for the deeply human ways God chooses to meet us, most notably in the incarnation. Reflecting on these truths and letting them shape our imaginations can deepen our spiritual formation and discipleship in significant ways.
[1] Alexander Schmemann, For the Life of the World: Sacraments and Orthodoxy, 2nd ed., rev. and exp. (New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1973), chap. 1.2, Kindle.
[2] Nancey Murphy, Bodies and Souls, or Spirited Bodies? (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 10.
[3] Richard D. Nelson, First and Second Kings (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1987), 178.
[4] Francis MacNutt, The Practice of Healing Prayer: A How-To Guide for Catholics (Frederick, MD: The Word Among Us Press, 2010), Chapter 6: The Healing Effects of Sacraments and Sacramentals.
[5] Richard D. Nelson, First and Second Kings, 181.
[6] Richard D. Nelson, First and Second Kings, 178.
[7] Rom 6:3-4.
[8] Dale C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle of James (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2013), 754.
[9] Dale C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle of James, 760.
[10]Greek Dictionary, https://www.billmounce.com/greek-dictionary/proskaleo.
[11] See for example Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation: The U.S. Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Healing Effects of Social Connection and Community, https://www.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/surgeon-general-social-connection-advisory.pdf.
[12] Tremper Longman III. Old Testament Essentials: Creation, Conquest, Exile and Return (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press 2014), Chapter 1.
[13] John of Damascus, St. John Damascene on holy images; followed by three sermons on the Assumption, trans. Mary H. Allies (London: T. Baker, 1898), 15-16.
[14] Martin Connell, Eternity Today: On the Liturgical Year, vol 1. (New York: Continuum, 2006), 114.
[15] David M. Scholer, “Gnosticism,” in Global Dictionary of Theology: A Resource for the Worldwide Church, ed. William A. Dyrness and Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen(Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2009), 346.
[16] “The lovers of knowledge are conscious that their souls, when philosophy receives them, are simply fastened and glued to their bodies: the soul is only able to view existence through the bars of a prison, and not in her own nature…” Plato, Phaedo, https://classics.mit.edu/Plato/phaedo.html.
[17] Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life: A Universal Affirmation (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1991), 8.
[18] Augustine, Enchiridion on Faith, Hope and Love, trans. Albert C. Outler,4:12-13. https://ccel.org/ccel/augustine/enchiridion/enchiridion.chapter4.html.
[19] J.A. Zimmerman, “Sacraments, Sacramentality” in Global Dictionary of Theology: A Resource for the Worldwide Church, 772.
[20] James F. White, Introduction to Christian Worship, 3rd ed., rev. and exp. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2000), 179.
[21] Leonard J. Vander Zee, Christ, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper: Recovering the Sacraments for Evangelical Worship (Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 2004), 17.
[22] John Macquarrie, A Guide to the Sacraments (New York: Continuum, 1997), 8.
[23] Ben Patterson, Serving God: The Grand Essentials of Work and Worship, rev. ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1994), 150.
[24] Lesslie Newbigin, The Household of God (New York: Friendship Press, 1954), 69.
[25] Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, Creation and Humanity: A Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World, Volume 3 (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2015), 391.
[26] Edward Schillebeeckx, The Eucharist (London: Burns & Oates, 1968), 134. Emphasis original.
[27] C. J. Weborg, “Recent American Protestant Sacramental Theology,” in Studia Liturgica 18 (1988), 195.
[28] James F. White, Introduction to Christian Worship, 257-258.
[29] Lesslie Newbigin, The Household of God, 67.
[30] Lesslie Newbigin, The Household of God, 67.
[31] C. J. Weborg, “Recent American Protestant Sacramental Theology,” 196-197.
[32] Jürgen Moltmann, God in Creation: A New Theology of Creation and the Spirit of God (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1993), 22.
[33] Augustine, The City of God, trans. Marcus Dods (New York: Modern Library, 1950), 12.8 (Book XII, chap. 8).
[34] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I, q. 1, a. 8, ad 2.
[ADA1]This phrase confused me.
