No one who believes in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ miracles doubts the power of God to heal us in the most extraordinary ways. That God heals, and that he heals in answer to prayer, should not be open to dispute among Christians.

But there’s a further question that’s not quite so easily resolved: whether healing is one of the blessings that flows out of Christ’s atoning work. We all know that Christ took away our sins through his death upon the cross. But has he also borne away our sicknesses in a similar man­ner? Can we claim freedom from illness in the same way that we can claim freedom from the penalty and power of sin?

Those who believe the answer to this question is “Yes” usually point to Matthew 8:16, 17: “and he healed all the sick. This was to fulfil what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took up our infirmities and carried our diseases’.”

Now at first sight it seems that this passage definitely supports the idea that Jesus bore our infirmities and diseases on the cross in somewhat the same sense that he bore our sins there — that is, he suffered in our place. Of course, our sins could never have been transferred to him so as to make him the actual sinner. Nevertheless Jesus bore our sins by suffering the judgment which we deserved because of those very sins. In the same way, some argue, when Jesus died he bore all the suffering and pain of our sicknesses as well. In this way, he became the substi­tute for sickness as well as for sin.

Throughout the history of the Church, many Christians have maintained this position. Now, with the growing popularity of the charismatic movement, increasing numbers of believers find it a convincing argument.

For instance, earlier last century A.B. Simpson wrote on Matthew 8:17:

This is the great evangelical vision — the promise of healing, the very strongest possible statement of complete redemp­tion from pain and sickness by Christ’s life and death. Just as he has borne our sins, Jesus Christ has also borne away and carried off our sicknesses; yes, and even our pains, so that abiding in him, we may be fully delivered from both sickness and pain. Thus ‘by his stripes we are healed’.

I think that it’s important that we understand exactly what A.B. Simpson and other modern faith-healers are claim­ing. They want us to believe that every known human disease — for instance, can­cer, diabetes, smallpox, typhoid and AIDS — has fastened itself on Christ’s body as he hung upon the cross; that he endured all the ravages of these illnesses so that he might remove them from us. Now, they insist, in view of Christ’s resurrection, the risen life of his glorified body is available to all believers by faith. Through the power of his risen life, we can combat the various types of disease that may be pre­sent in our bodies.

There is no doubt that these are bold claims. The question, however, is whether they are true. Perhaps the first thing that we need to do is revisit Matthew 8:17 for a more careful examination. When we do, the first thing that strikes us is that Matthew did not have Jesus’ atoning death in mind when he referred to this passage from Isaiah. He wasn’t thinking of the cross at all; rather, he was trying to explain why Jesus was so heavily involved in a ministry of healing.

The healings which took place in Capernaum, and to which Matthew refers here, seem to have no substitutionary ele­ment in them at all. It’s hard to see how a universal principle of healing by substitu­tion could be established through what Jesus did in this one local event.

When the apostle Peter gives us the true interpretation of this passage from Isaiah in 1 Peter 2:24, he reminds us that Christ’s work of atonement took place in his death, not in his life. He tells us that,

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sin and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”

I think it is clear that in Peter’s mind at least, the atonement took place in Jesus’ death.

Nevertheless, we can hardly avoid Matthew’s pointed statement that in some sense Jesus “took up” our infirmi­ties and carried our diseases. What did he mean? I think Matthew meant two things: first, that these healings in Galilee were an instance in which Jesus actually took away sickness and death. There is no doubt that this is what happened in the city of Capernaum as Jesus performed his min­istry of miracles. People were rescued from sickness and death. Like a championship weight-lifter, Jesus lifted some of the preliminary loads with which men struggled before he lifted the greatest weight of all on Calvary. In this sense every healing miracle is an instance of Jesus lifting the curse of sin off a crippled humanity.

But Jesus “took up our infirmities and carried our diseases” in another sense as well. We know, for instance, that Jesus was unable to approach sick people without great cost to himself. He sympathised deeply with the sick and sorrowing. We see evidence of this everywhere in the gospels. When the woman who touched the hem of his garment was healed, Mark tells us that “at once Jesus realised that power had gone out from him” (Mk 5:30). It cost him something to heal.

Likewise, the fact that Jesus broke down outside the tomb of Lazarus, even though he knew that he would soon restore his friend to life, is evidence that he bore the full weight of our sicknesses and sorrows. Christ’s grief was a pledge that he would remove every infirmity that burdens our souls.

However, the real question is: when will this take place? Those who believe that healing is a blessing that flows directly out of the atonement are con­vinced that Christ has made it possible to experience full relief from physical and mental suffering in this present age. Are they right? I do not believe so.

While it is true that Christ is opposed to everything that afflicts us, such as sick­ness, they forget that salvation is a process which involves several phases. One of these phases lies in the future — that is, “the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time” (1 Pet. 1:5).

The writer to the Hebrews is even more explicit. He says that Christ “will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are wait­ing for him” (9:28). And what is this salvation? Why, it’s the redemption of our bodies which will be liberated from their bondage to decay (Rom. 8:21, 23).

The complete removal of infirmity, sickness, and disease is something that will only happen with the return of Christ. To suggest otherwise is to deny this future phase of salvation when God will wipe away every tear from our eyes and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain (Rev. 21:4).

However, rather than mount a case against the faith-healers’ claims on the basis of theological principles, we simply need to ask whether their views actually work in the laboratory of life. No theory of healing deserves any respect if it ignores or is inconsistent with human experience. For example, if we can find in the Bible any account where sincere Christians were allowed to be sick and were not miraculously healed, then the whole theory collapses to the ground. I can think of at least four examples in the New Testament.

The first one that comes to mind is the apostle Paul himself. According to his second letter to the Corinthians, he suffered from what he described as a “thorn in the flesh” (2 Cor. 12:7) Paul doesn’t tell us what this thorn was except to say that it was in his “flesh”. It was a physical ailment or pain of some kind. It definitely caused him severe suffering. Paul begged God to take it away three times (12:8). Nevertheless, the Lord replied: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (12:9). At this point Paul realised that it was not God’s will to heal him from his affliction because the sickness served the purpose of keeping him humble.

Again, another striking instance is the case of Epaphroditus in Philippians 2:27. Here we discover that this model Christian worker became so dangerously ill that he almost died. Paul prayed for him, and so doubtless did many others. His ill­ness ran its course and then he recovered. We read of no miraculous recovery. Instead, Paul says that “God had mercy on him” and his health returned. In this last expression, I believe that we have the New Testament position on healing in this pre­sent age: it is a mercy. It is not something that can be demanded as a right.

There are two other cases amongst Paul’s fellow-workers that deserve com­ment. One is Timothy. According to Paul’s first letter to him, Timothy suffered “frequent illnesses” (1 Tim. 5:23). He seems to have had a gastric problem. However, instead of recommending Timothy to attend a healing meeting, Paul gives him a common-sense prescription. Surely if there were healing in the atonement, Paul would have given him quite different advice. Again, if healing is one of Christ’s gifts to the church in this age, why does Paul leave his trusted colleague and fellow-worker, Trophimus, sick at Miletus (2 Tim. 4:20)? It doesn’t make sense, unless of course healing is simply a mercy that God may choose to give.

And that, it seems, is how we should view healing today. It is mercy. We have no right to expect it, but every encourage­ment to pray for it because sometimes God does far more than we could ever ask or imagine.