Rogue One was incredibly entertaining. It gave life to my childhood imaginations regarding the opening scene of Episode 4.
How did Princess Leia get those Death Star plans?
Now we know.
The profound silence and absence of Jedis drew the spectator in a surprising way. It was up to the ordinary, not the extraordinary. No clusters of miracles to be found. No Jedi mind tricks; no Luke, no Obi-wan. In fact, a Jedi temple is obliterated. Perhaps, the most significant mission in the entire saga placed in the hands of some ordinary Stardust.
Yet, despite the absence of any good and noble wielder of the Force, the ordinary rebels still believed in it. Interesting. No miracles. No Jedis. But faith remained. Hope remained.
In the story of the Bible, we are wrong if we think miracles are common. Throughout the centuries of development of the story, miracles cluster, and they are rather rare. They take place at specific progressions in God’s story, where both word and act unite in special revelation from heaven. However, there are long periods, centuries even, of silence from God.
During the silent eras, ordinary faith becomes a most remarkable and powerful thing. It’s not that God is dead or that he has always been silent. His voice and his actions come in waves, in clusters, and they reveal him. He does not speak on command, but when he must, he does. He does not act on command, but when he wills, he does.
A friend and professor recently said,
We don’t discover God; he discloses himself. We don’t uncover data; he unveils truth. We don’t climb to him; he comes to us.
So how does one live in a “silent” era? Ordinary faith in what has been spoken and has been accomplished. Ordinary hope in what is to come.