Archive for healing

The fellowship of the weak

Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly. We need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly. That is the great work of love among the fellowship of the weak that is the human family.

― Henri J.M. Nouwen

 

A quotidian task, the family’s work, this cleaning up the mess of living.
Washing what is soiled, repairing what is broken,
putting away what someone else has taken out and carelessly forgotten.
A thousand injuries healed not counted, in a world where, the hard truth is that all people love poorly, and we
the weak, are called to the great work of Love.

 

Sabbath healing; sabbath freedom

Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. And there was a woman who had had a spirit of infirmity for eighteen years; she was bent over and could not fully straighten herself.  And when Jesus saw her, he called her and said to her, “Woman, you are freed from your infirmity.”  And he laid his hands upon her, and immediately she was made straight, and she praised God.

But the ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the sabbath, said to the people, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be healed, and not on the sabbath day.”  Then the Lord answered him, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his ass from the manger, and lead it away to water it?  And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the sabbath day?” As he said this, all his adversaries were put to shame; and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him.  Luke 13:10-17

 

We know that the sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath (Mark 2: 23-28). We recognize the metaphor of the animal which is bound to service and the woman whom Satan bound to infirmity. We see that Jesus wins the theological argument and “all his adversaries were put to shame; and all the people rejoiced.”  But if I may add one more observation: how interesting that the ruler of the synagogue accosts the people with his indignation and not Jesus.

“There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be healed, and not on the sabbath day.” 

It’s a power play: chastising those who are lower down in the religious hierarchy; scolding people who are suffering and less likely to protest. He doesn’t tell Jesus to stop healing people, he tells the people to stop asking for healing. “Can’t we have one day a week without you people clamoring for relief!”

The sabbath is supposed to be a day for joy and freedom from work. Perhaps the ruler felt that having all those sick people around dampened the mood. Maybe he only cared about his sabbath and no one else’s. But on that day, Jesus gave the people an occasion to rejoice and praise God, and also gave them a sabbath to remember. Thanks be to God.

Who will help me?

When Jesus saw him and knew that he had been lying there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is troubled, and while I am going another steps down before me.”  Jesus said to him, “Rise, take up your pallet, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his pallet and walked.

John 5:1-9

 

“Do you want to be healed?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t do what is required. I need help. I am weak and alone.”

“I am your help. Rise up, carry your pallet as a sign of your healing, and walk.”

 

Will you persevere? Will you proclaim?

I will, with God’s help.

 

Medical oddity

And when Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered about him; and he was beside the sea. Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue, Ja′irus by name; and seeing him, he fell at his feet, and besought him, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” And he went with him.

And a great crowd followed him and thronged about him. And there was a woman who had had a flow of blood for twelve years,and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. She had heard the reports about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I shall be made well.” And immediately the hemorrhage ceased; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease…. 

While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” But ignoring[a] what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James. When they came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, he saw a tumult, and people weeping and wailing loudly. And when he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a tumult and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. Taking her by the hand he said to her, “Tal′itha cu′mi”; which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” And immediately the girl got up and walked (she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

Mark 5:21-43

 

A quick note today. Two things struck me as I read this passage:

The first was the condition of the woman with the hemorrhage, because she “had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse.”

If you’ve ever gone through invasive medical procedures for yourself or with a loved one, especially when trying to track down an elusive diagnosis, you know what this is like. You start to wonder if the doctors see you as a human being or just a medical mystery to be solved. People you don’t know come in to study you. You wonder if the cure is worse than the disease. You get tired of being a medical oddity. An anomaly. A freak.

That thought put me in a frame of mind to read the following story about Jairus’ daughter a bit differently than I usually do. When Jesus tells the crowd that the girl is “not dead but sleeping” and allows no one but Peter, James, and John and the girl’s parents to witness the miracle of her resurrection, he is giving the girl more than just life. Jesus gives her a life–which is to say, he gives her the cushion that a twelve year old would need to grow up and be happy. He strictly charges the adults not to tell what has happened so she can grow up as a person and not always be known as a freak or The Girl Who Was Dead. Ja’irus’ daughter is brought back to her parents and to herself–for all anyone outside knows, she really was just sleeping. It’s such a compassionate miracle. Not a manifestation of God’s glory at the expense of an adolescent. No, Ja’irus’ daughter will be all right. Now if someone will just get that child something to eat.

Prayer for healing

…Jesus is reported to have made the blind see and the lame walk, and over the centuries countless miraculous healings have been claimed in his name. For those who prefer not to believe in them, a number of approaches are possible, among them:

  1. The idea of miracles is an offence both to man’s reason and to his dignity. Thus, a priori, miracles don’t happen.
  2. Unless there is objective medical evidence to substantiate the claim that a miraculous healing has happened, you can assume it hasn’t.
  3. If the medical authorities agree that a healing is inexplicable in terms of present scientific knowledge, you can simply ascribe this to the deficiencies of present scientific knowledge.
  4. If an otherwise intelligent and honest human being is convinced, despite all arguments to the contrary, that it is God who has healed him, you can assume that his sickness, like its cure, was purely psychological. Whatever that means.
  5. The crutches piled high at Lourdes and elsewhere are a monument to human humbug and credulity.

If your approach to this kind of healing is less ideological and more empirical, you can always give it a try. Pray for it. If it’s somebody else’s healing you’re praying for, you can try at the same time laying your hands on him as Jesus sometimes did. If his sickness involves his body as well as his soul, then God may be able to use your inept hands as well as your inept faith to heal him.

If you feel like a fool as you are doing this, don’t let it throw you. You are a fool of course, only not a damned fool for a change.

If your prayer isn’t answered, this may mean more about you and your prayer than it does about God. Don’t try too hard to feel religious, to generate some healing power of your own. Think of yourself rather (if you have to think of yourself at all) as a rather small-gauge, clogged up pipe that a little of God’s power may be able to filter through if you can just stay loose enough. Tell the one you’re praying for to stay loose too.

If God doesn’t seem to be giving you what you ask, maybe he’s giving you something else.

 

Frederick Buechner, “Healing” in Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC.” Harper and Row, 1973.

 

Torment and mercy

The Gerasene demoniac
from the Madeburg Ivories
Milan, 10th century

 

They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Ger′asenes. And when he had come out of the boat, there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, who lived among the tombs; and no one could bind him any more, even with a chain; for he had often been bound with fetters and chains, but the chains he wrenched apart, and the fetters he broke in pieces; and no one had the strength to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always crying out, and bruising himself with stones.  And when he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped him; and crying out with a loud voice, he said, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.”  For he had said to him, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!”  And Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion; for we are many.” And he begged him eagerly not to send them out of the country.  Now a great herd of swine was feeding there on the hillside;  and they begged him, “Send us to the swine, let us enter them.” So he gave them leave. And the unclean spirits came out, and entered the swine; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea.

The herdsmen fled, and told it in the city and in the country. And people came to see what it was that had happened. And they came to Jesus, and saw the demoniac sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, the man who had had the legion; and they were afraid.  And those who had seen it told what had happened to the demoniac and to the swine.  And they began to beg Jesus to depart from their neighborhood. And as he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed with demons begged him that he might be with him.  But he refused, and said to him, “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decap′olis how much Jesus had done for him; and all men marveled.

–Mark 5:1-20

This morning I read again the story of the Gerasene Demoniac and thought, as I often do, about the pigs. I pity those pigs. They never knew what hit them, but it was so terrible and so terrifying that they rushed into the sea to make it stop.

Why would Jesus do that to pigs? Why not just cast out the demons? Was it a trick? A way to destroy the unclean spirits at the expense of the swine? It’s an unsettling idea—so much collateral damage—and so this morning I pondered the demons and the swine.

“I adjure you by God, do not torment me” …And he begged him eagerly not to send them out of the country.

It’s difficult to read about a demoniac and unclean spirits without an overlay of modern medical thinking, but if I stay within the context of the story, then I ask myself, what would torment a spirit? Why do they beg to enter the swine? Do they fear disembodiment? Could it be that unclean spirits seek a home of sorts? Is this why the story takes place among graves?

I thought about all the ghost stories in human cultures; about spirits in torment; I thought about the Dead Men of Dunharrow from The Lord of the Rings–another fearsome Legion.  And it seemed to me that permitting the unclean spirits to enter the unclean animals was appropriate. And that death in this case might be a sort of mercy, a laying to rest, a burial in the bodies of creatures that I knew were raised to be killed.

There is much violence and fear in this story. The cost of this healing is high. But in the end, the man who lived among the tombs is returned to life with his friends (does he still have friends?) and the legion who filled him are buried at last. Perhaps in this way the lives of the pigs are not wasted, but are accepted as a sort of sacrifice. I don’t know, but I wonder.

 

Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.”…and all men marveled.