Divine Healing Has Not Passed Away

James 5: 13 Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing praise. 14 Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. 15 And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. 16 Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.
I was just reading Tim Challies blog where he was quoting a commentary on the book of James by Daniel Dorian on the subject of Divine healing. As I understand it, there are extremes on both sides of the cessationist v. continuationist issue. There seems to be just as much error on the part of the extreme cessationist as there is in the extreme continualist camp. Whatever our stance, I trust we can all agree that it is entirely biblical to continue to expect great things from a great God. He still answers prayer. I could add to the testimony below having seen countless answers to prayer as God has graciously intervened to heal. - JS
Here is the quote: During the autumn when I first studied James in earnest, a friend suffered a viral infection of the heart. While it was not a heart attack, it mimicked many of the symptoms of one. My friend felt listless; he looked gray and lifeless. One day at church, I told him that James 5 instructs elders to lay hands on the sick and to pray for their healing; I suggested that he call the elders for that very purpose. Two weeks later, he told me he wanted to proceed. No one in our church had done this before, so we did something very Presbyterian: we studied the matter another six weeks and hoped he didn’t die in the meantime.

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I Can Only Be Healed From Above

The more I reflect on the elder son in me, the more I realize how deeply rooted this form of lostness really is and how hard it is to return home from there. Returning home from a lustful escapade seems so much easier than returning home from a cold anger that has rooted itself in the deepest corners of my being. My resentment is not something that can be easily distinguished and dealt with rationally.

It is far more pernicious: something that has attached itself to the underside of my virtue. Isn't it good to be obedient, dutiful, law-abiding, hardworking, and self-sacrificing? And still it seems that my resentments and complaints are mysteriously tied to such praiseworthy attitudes. . . . Just when I do my utmost to accomplish a task well, I find myself questioning why others do not give themselves as I do. Just when I think I am capable of overcoming my temptations, I feel envy toward those who gave in to theirs. It seems that wherever my virtuous self is, there is the resentful complainer.

Here, I am faced with my own true poverty. I am totally unable to root out my resentments. They are so deeply anchored in the soil of my inner self that pulling them out seems like self-destruction. How to weed out these resentments without uprooting the virtues as well?

. . . I can only be healed from above.

--Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming (Doubleday 1994), 75-76
Dane Ortlund

The Promise of Full Healing Here and Now: Kindness or Cruelty?

Recently I was in conversation with a couple of close friends who were taking a family member to a “healing conference” seeking healing for a chronic illness. Out of desperation, and based on reports of results, they were completely open to whatever the person was teaching, with seemingly little examination of whether or not the teacher was “rightly handling the word of truth.

They looked at me, wanting my thoughts. But really they didn’t want my thoughts. They wanted my endorsement, which I could not offer. And it was awkward. It seems uncaring and close-minded in such situations to take issue with how the scripture is being misused to promise what it does not promise.
My hesitancy is not because I don’t believe that God heals. I know he does. In fact healing is not just something he does; it is who he is. He is Jehovah Rophi, the God Who Heals. But I also know that we simply cannot force into this age the pervasive healing God has reserved for the next.
I suppose the real problem for me is that I often find myself on the other side of these situations—seeking to minister to people who, based on the promises and proclamations of such healing ministries, sought and expected the healing of their loved one. But their loved one died. And so they are left confused and disillusioned. Because they’ve were sold a false gospel, they end up deeply resentful toward what they see as God withholding from them, and sometimes filled with guilt over what they see as their own failure of faith. And so I see those who proclaim a false gospel of full physical healing available here and now for all those with the faith to claim it as ultimately very cruel.
I know that many people who will read Be Still My Soul: Embracing God’s Purpose and Provision in Suffering will be on this road of asking for healing, but seeking to trust God with physical illness and disability. That is why I included the insight of J. I. Packer who writes:

It is true that salvation embraces both body and soul. And there is indeed, as some put it, healing for the body in the atonement. But perfect physical health is not promised for this life. It is promised for heaven as part of the resurrection glory that awaits us in the day when Christ “will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.” Full physical well-being is presented as a future blessing of salvation rather than a present one. What God has promised and when he will give it are separate questions.

The day is coming when our God Who Heals will consummate his kingdom where there will be no more sickness. Till then, we wait in faith, grateful that he is good to give us tastes and glimpses of the plenteous and pervasive healing to come on that day.
by Nancy Guthrie
Crossway.blog