Some years ago, as I remember it, my grandmother fell as she
was leaving a friend’s house. She was
partway down the sidewalk. Her friend
was inside the house, door closed.
And my grandmother fell and then just laid there, on the
ground—silently, staring up at the sky.
She just laid there until she could move enough to sit up.
“Why didn’t you call for help?” I asked her, later.
She shrugged. “I
didn’t want to bother anyone,” she said.
Picturing my grandmother there on the sidewalk, staring up
at the heavens makes me think of the story of St. Teresa of Avila who once fell
off her donkey on the way to the convent.
She fell into the mud and hurt her leg. But instead of crying or cursing the donkey,
she turned to the sky and said, “Lord, if this is how you treat your friends,
no wonder you don’t have many.”
Every one of us is unique.
Every one of us has a unique relationship with God.
And we all have unique reactions to times of trial and
misfortune, of illness and death and grief.
As ridiculous as it may have seemed for my grandmother to
lay there on the sidewalk and not call for help, who among us hasn’t said those
words before, “I didn’t want to bother anyone.”
And although the story of St. Teresa and the donkey may seem
silly and humorous, who among us hasn’t lashed out against God, hasn’t demanded
that He do better by us?
So, what does God expect from us during times of struggle
and suffering?
In today’s Gospel reading, we see Jesus performing one of
his many healing miracles. There is a
pool, called Bethzatha, frequented by many of the sick and infirm. There, Jesus comes across a man who has been
ill for thirty-eight years.
“Do you want to be healed?” Jesus asks the man.
And here some very important things happen, outside of the
actual miracle itself. First, you expect
the man to answer the question “Do you want to be healed?” with, “Yes, of
course I want to be healed!” Instead the
man gives a rather convoluted excuse as to why he hasn’t been healed
already. He can’t get down to the
pool. People are always cutting the line
in front of him.
In fact, the man doesn’t answer Jesus’ question at all. When you think about it—it is a simple yes or
no question. Do you want to be healed?
It’s as if Jesus walked up to him and held out a one hundred
dollar bill. “Would you like a hundred
dollars? Yes or no?” And the man answers, “Well, see here is why I
don’t have a hundred dollars of my own.”
How do we know Jesus was the son of God? Because his patience with people can only be
described as divine.
But Jesus doesn’t call out the man on his lack of an
answer. Instead he simply says, “Stand
up, take your mat and walk.”
Some years ago, the doctor discovered, through an MRI, a
small, benign mass sitting in the middle of my spinal cord. These types of tumors are fairly rare and so
I went to specialist after specialist trying to determine what to do about this
tumor. Surgery was very risky given its
location.
One doctor, a neuro-oncologist, told me the story of a man
he had treated during his residency in South Carolina. The man was brought in to the hospital in a
wheelchair. He was paralyzed from the
waist down, and as the doctor tried to determine the cause of the man’s paralysis,
he noticed that the man had callouses on his forearms.
Well that’s weird, he thought. What could that be from?
As it turned out, it was from years of dragging himself
across the floor because he was unable to walk.
This man had the same tumor I had.
This doctor’s message to me?
It’s okay to watch this tumor, and see what it does, but don’t let it
get to the point where it paralyzes you.
I just stared at him wide-eyed. Message received.
When Jesus asks the man at the pool if he wants to be
healed, what he’s really asking is how long are you going to suffer? Isn’t thirty-eight years long enough?
Think back to the bleeding woman who is healed when she
touches Jesus’ cloak. She had been
bleeding for a long time. And she had
had enough. She was going to get healed
if it was the last thing she did. She
sought Jesus out. She was healed by her
faith.
Think of the healing miracles Jesus performs. Think of blind Bartimaeus, calling out to
Jesus to be healed, being so loud and obnoxious about it that people are
telling him to be quiet.
Over and over, people come to Jesus. They seek him out. Their faith heals them.
But this man at the pool is different. He doesn’t even know who Jesus is. He is not seeking him. He does not ask to be healed. He doesn’t even really indicate that he wants
to be healed. Perhaps he doesn’t want to
bother anyone. Perhaps he thinks he
doesn’t deserve it. Perhaps he thinks
his illness is punishment.
He doesn’t find Jesus.
Jesus finds him.
Do you want to be healed?
How long are you going to suffer?
Jesus heals him and by healing him sends a very important
message. It is God you must turn to in
times of distress and suffering.
When you are suffering, whether it be from physical illness or
from sadness or despair—whenever you find yourself in a spiritual desert, do
not dismiss your suffering.
Do not lie there on the ground in pain because you don’t
want to bother anyone.
Do not let the years go by without turning to God.
How long are you going to suffer?
Turn to God. Talk to
Him. Yell at Him. Remember the moxie of St. Teresa of
Avila. God can take it.
But turn to Him.
You have suffered long enough. So, stand up, already … and walk.
Amen.
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