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Graduate school can be overwhelming, filled with long hours of study, research, and stress. Like many, I have found ways to cope with the pressures. Jogging has been a reliable escape, a chance to clear my mind and regain balance.
One evening, I invited one of my Capuchin brothers to join me on a run. Not only would it help us relieve stress, but it would give us time to discuss our seminary readings. But as we set out, our rhythm was interrupted by a red light at the intersection of Ashland and 35th Street. Standing there, waiting for it to turn green, I felt frustrated. I wanted to keep moving!
As I vented about how this particular light seemed to take forever, my friend remained calm, unbothered by the delay. Then he pointed out something happening just beyond the stoplight—a wrecking ball was repeatedly striking an old storage building. Each impact produced a hollow sound, but the structure remained standing. I stared at it.
Then I said, “That tiny wrecking ball cannot possibly bring down that massive building.” It seemed weak, incapable of the task.
My friend added, “Why wouldn’t they just use dynamite to take it down? This will take forever.”
Instead of engaging in a long conversation, as Jesus often does with others, he simply gives a command: “Get up, pick up your mat, and walk.” The man does, and is immediately healed.
His comment made me pause. The word dynamite struck a chord, reminding me of its Greek root—dunamis, meaning “power” or “ability.” This brought me back to a passage I recently studied from the Gospel of John, chapter 5. Jesus encounters a man who has been ill for thirty-eight years. The man lay near the Pool of Bethesda, waiting for a miracle. When Jesus sees him, he asks, “Do you want to be made well?” The man responds explaining that he has no one to help him into the pool when the waters are stirred. Instead of engaging in a long conversation, as Jesus often does with others, he simply gives a command: “Get up, pick up your mat, and walk.” The man does, and is immediately healed.
The man at the pool never questioned Jesus’ power. He did not ask, who are you? With what authority do you have to heal me? Instead, he obeyed, and in doing so, experienced Christ’s divine power—the dunamis that breaks barriers and restores wholeness.
The same divine power that healed the man by the pool was at work in the dramatic transformation of Saul into Paul. Saul, a feared persecutor of Christians, had an encounter on the road to Damascus that shattered his old identity and reshaped him into one of Christianity’s greatest apostles. His transformation reminds us that it’s not about where an encounter takes place but who we encounter—Jesus Christ.
The red light, the wrecking ball, and the story of the Pool of Bethesda all converged in my mind as we waited to run. Like that wrecking ball’s repeated strikes, our human efforts alone often seem too weak to break through the barriers in our lives—barriers of doubt, fear, or sin. But with God’s dunamis, real transformation is possible.
Christ’s grace is like spiritual dynamite. It breaks down the obstacles that prevent us from fully embracing God’s love and the relationships we are called to foster with others. It frees us to welcome the stranger, to love our enemies, and to serve the sick and imprisoned. When we allow Christ’s power to work in us, we begin to experience the fullness of life that God desires for us.
So, the next time you feel stuck—whether at a red light, in a season of waiting, or in the struggle to overcome personal obstacles—try to remember that your own efforts may feel like a wrecking ball against an immovable structure. But with Christ, dunamis is at work. And with his power, no barrier is too great to be broken.
