People of protocol

She had been folded in half for eighteen years.

Eighteen years of eyes fixed on dust instead of daylight.

She did not run to Jesus.

She did not cry out.

She may not have even dared to hope.

But He saw her.

He called her.

He told her to stand.

And she did.

Straight-backed. Wide-eyed. Free.

And while the crowd gasped, the religious leader growled.

There were rules.

There were six days for miracles—this one had broken in on the wrong schedule.

The wrong day.

The wrong protocol.

The wrong box.

The wrong tradition.

The miracle angered him.

He would rather have seen her remain bound than see her walk free on the wrong day.

And if we’re not careful,

if our hearts have grown hard,

if we’ve turned our love for God into a love for control, we might do the same.

We might sit in sanctuaries,

armed with scripture and decorum,

and yet utterly blind to the glory of God standing right in front of us.

We might glare at the glory

and defend the dust.

We might say with our lips “God is good,”

but then bristle when His goodness comes in a way we didn’t schedule.

We might hold so tightly to how things are “supposed” to be that we miss the very presence of the One who is making all things new.

And Jesus… He called it out.

He did not nod politely.

He did not shrink back.

He called it hypocrisy.

Because it is.

To care more for the rules than the release.

To protect tradition more than people.

To silence awe and exalt control.

To tolerate bondage but condemn freedom.

We have traded wonder for walls.

Presence for process.

Healing for habit.

But dear one,

He is still healing the bent over.

Still laying hands on the weary.

Still speaking freedom to bodies and hearts that have forgotten how it feels to lift their heads.

He sees you.

He’s calling you.

And He isn’t asking permission from anyone.

So let us be a people who rejoice over miracles, that come in different ways than we ever imagined.

Let us never—never—be the kind who frown at resurrection.

Because the miracle has never fit in a box.

And neither will Jesus.