A. B. Simpson’s The Gospel of Healing left me both challenged and unconvinced. It raised my expectations of prayer, while giving me serious questions about the way Simpson sets faith and medicine against each other.
Learning to expect something
By “divine healing,” Simpson means God acting to heal a person’s illness. I already believed that God could heal. What this book challenged was how little that belief sometimes affected my response to someone who was sick.
Simpson calls divine healing a command (p. 19). That made me reconsider how easily I could explain away suffering instead of responding to it: perhaps someone’s faith was being tested, or perhaps their circumstances were the result of their choices. Those explanations could become an excuse for doing nothing.
I do not want to meet a person’s illness with a theory about why they deserve it. I want to pray, care, and take seriously the possibility that God may act.
Simpson also asks whether we should bring a request to God without considering whether it is his will (p. 63). That question changed the way I approached prayer. What do I actually believe God desires here? Am I asking with any expectation of an answer? Working through those questions had me sitting on the edge of my seat. God is good!
Where I part company with Simpson
Simpson’s treatment of medicine goes too far for me. He suggests that someone who has committed their case to Christ will generally see no need for another hand to touch it (p. 141). Elsewhere he presents human remedies and God’s grace as things that cannot work together (p. 31).
I disagree with that opposition. Trusting God and receiving medical care need not compete. My appreciation for Simpson’s challenge to pray does not require accepting his conclusions about treatment.
I was more receptive to his criticism of using “if it be Thy will” as an escape from expecting anything (p. 62). “Thy” simply means “your.” The question that stayed with me was whether I was seeking God’s will or using a familiar phrase to protect myself from disappointment. I want to pray with conviction, while recognizing that conviction does not give me control over an outcome.
A late-night nudge
One night, around midnight, I was reading Simpson when a thought came into my mind: go pray for the gymnasium.
I had joked about doing that with a few prayer partners, so at first I assumed my mind was wandering. Then another question interrupted me: could this be from God?
I prayed, “God, I think my mind is wandering again, but just in case, is this from you?”
BAM! I felt God’s presence flood through me, along with the same instruction: go pray for the gymnasium, now.
I thanked God, texted a friend, and we went to pray. The gym door was propped open for us! I had not prayed for many buildings and honestly was not sure what I was supposed to say. But boy, was God there.
That experience captures what this book stirred in me: a willingness to pause, ask whether God might be speaking, and respond. I still have questions about Simpson’s arguments. I also came away less willing to let those questions become an excuse for never stepping out in faith.
Book discussed
A. B. Simpson, The Gospel of Healing. Page references follow the edition I read.
Where Christians read differently
Christians pray for the sick, but disagree about whether healing is promised to every believer in this life and how miraculous gifts operate today. Some emphasize healing as part of Jesus’ saving work; others stress that faithful people can remain ill while awaiting the renewal of creation. Illness is not proof of deficient faith. Prayer and medical care need not be opposed. Compare the arguments about healing now and future renewal → For the related question about whether miraculous gifts continue, explore the views about spiritual gifts.
A question in the margin is a good place to begin.