Have you ever been so consumed by a decision or lost in despair that you’ve figuratively thrown up your hands and muttered, “Just give me a sign”? I know I have. Usually, it’s my way of admitting that a situation is bigger than I am. It’s a desperate, messy sort of prayer.
In today’s Gospel, the Pharisees also ask Jesus for a sign from heaven, but their heart-posture is different. They aren’t asking out of desperation; they are being argumentative.
As I unpacked this, I had to wonder: Where was that request coming from? Were they just looking for that one final piece of evidence to solidify their trust? If so, they committed a tragic mistake. By demanding a spectacular, sky-splitting miracle, they completely missed the “sign” standing right in front of them.
It’s a sobering reminder for us. We often miss the Divine moving in our daily lives - in the quiet miracles of provision and the warmth of community - because we’re waiting for something flashy to prove God’s existence.
In this passage, it’s clear that the Pharisees were testing Jesus. They wanted proof, but they wanted it on their own terms. It makes me wonder: Do we desire a God who performs on command, while dismissing the Savior who transforms hearts through humility and service? When we insist on certainty before we offer trust, we almost always miss what is already happening right in front of us.
Then, there is the sigh, “Jesus sighed deeply in his spirit.” That sigh matters. It’s the exhaustion of a Love that keeps offering itself, only to be met with suspicion. The problem for the Pharisees wasn’t a lack of evidence; it was a lack of willingness. What if, instead of interpreting God’s “silence” as absence, we saw it as a mirror reflecting the posture of our own hearts?
In the end, Jesus gets back into the boat and goes to the other side. It underscores the reality that when a heart is closed, no amount of “proof” is ever enough. Grace doesn’t force itself on those who are determined not to receive it.
This passage invites us to do some honest self-examination if and when we are willing:
· Am I seeking God, or am I testing Him?
· In what ways do I try to dictate how God should show up? Does that prevent me from seeing His work in unexpected forms?
· What are the “recent miracles” or moments of provision in my life that I’m currently overlooking or taking for granted?
Mark’s Gospel reminds us that faith begins not with demands, but with receptivity. Sometimes the greatest misfortune isn’t an unanswered prayer, but a closed heart.
Becky Nickerson
As a Creighton employee of over 20 years, a course instructor, an alumna, and a mom of a Bluejay alum, I am grateful that so much of my journey has been centered in a place that has encouraged me to explore and grow in my faith and live out a mission that is core to my own value system. I love my work, I am rooted in my faith, and I’m really not sure how I could ever separate them at this point. I am excited to be a new contributor to Creighton’s online ministry – learning and serving in a new way.
