Fr. Ivo writes of faith and miracles and there are pseudo-scientists and some men of learning on this forum who think that their education qualifies them to deny God and his existence. They deny that miracles happen, not knowing what really is a miracle. They probably have had many miracles in their own lives, but instead of acknowledging divine providence, they think some quality of their human existence has been responsible for it.
I have no problem with people who have no faith. They have arrived at a certain conclusion in their lives and are responsible for whatever implications flow from it. But when these people try to foist their reasoning onto others with some intention of 'enlightenment transfer' then it becomes patronizing and condescending. Perhaps all these arguments of miracles has become incumbent on me to recount two of the very own I have experienced. Let me hasten to add that I am neither deserving of 'miracles' nor ask for them. They occurred nevertheless. I was about 15 and it was the brashness of youth and the appearance of 'cool' that made me wait for every person to board the Bombay local train before I would do so. There were no closing doors so I would hang on, two hands clinging to the curve of the roof on a fast train. I did this many times, enjoying the cool breeze of the speeding train, complementing myself on avoiding all those sweaty bodies within. One day on a train that was late and more crowded than usual, I repeated this manoeuvre. It was a 'fast train' and had just started from its halt at Bandra. As Khar passed, the crowd within began to stir. This is what they usually do in order to get ready to alight at the next stop which would be Andheri. Come Santa Cruz the crowd became even more swirling and the whole pressure was against my torso. I yelled at the danger to me but it seemed no one listened. The pressure on my fingers holding to dear life and supporting my entire body from falling off, became unbearable. It seemed that Vile Parle another station would never come. The pain was so intense that it became so tempting to let go and experience relief by just falling to death. Some extraordinary power external to myself made me lift one leg from the ground (I was now supported by just fingers and one leg) and kick with superhuman force the person just next to me. He moved a little and so did the rest behind him. I could hold on now and Andheri swept into view. As soon as the platform appeared, I jumped on it, running, dropping but alive. At another time, I was driving my new car at about 120 kmph on a snowing day on Highway 401, a major Toronto arterial road. The highways were cleared of snow by salters and sanders but I should not have been going at that speed in that weather. Snow banks were piled on either side by the ploughs and they formed high banks, 3 feet tall. I was late for an appointment which was why I was speeding. I almost missed the turn that led to the Don Valley Parkway which I needed to take to reach downtown. I panicked and swerved to meet the turn, and slid through a slush of wet snow that removed any traction that I needed to stay on the road. My car spun like a top and smashed into the guardrail at a speed greater than I was going. I should have been dead at the stop, but I was merely dazed. A speeding trailer truck swished by. A second earlier and it would have rammed into me, smashing my car to smithereens. The next speeding vehicle was a huge tow truck who had seen my plight. The driver had reflexes like lightning (they all do). He braked his truck and stopped beside me, affording a protective screen to the next speeding vehicle. His truck was pounded by a couple of passing vehicles, but it stood firm while he helped me out of the car. He asked me if I was OK and he said simply "you have defied death". Regards, -- Roland Francis Toronto +1 (416) 453.3371
