"The mystery of God's healing": An Early Reflection on the Gospel for this coming Sunday (Luke 13:10-17)
She didn't ask to be healed.
I'm talking about the woman in Luke's gospel. Scripture says only "there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years," and that "when Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." (Luke 13:10-17)
Let's set aside, for a moment, what happened after the woman stood up and the leader of the synagogue became apoplectic because the healing happened on the Sabbath.
How does that work? Healing, I mean.
I will never forget a young woman at St. David's in Salem, NH. It was the first congregation I was called to serve right out of seminary as Priest in Charge. She was not at all pleased that a woman was their priest.
It was 1986 and I was part of that first 10-year wave of ordained women in The Episcopal Church. It was a lot for some people to accept. Some never did.
Indeed, she was so angry she hollered at the Senior Warden, said some pretty hateful things to me, and then stormed out of the church.
So, I was very surprised when she came to the church one morning several weeks later, took communion, and then asked for the laying on of hands and healing for her husband. He was about 20 years her senior and had suffered a debilitating heart attack. He was in ICU and not predicted to survive the day.
She was so desperate that she even came back to church - to a woman priest whom she detested - to ask for healing for her husband.
I listened to her sob out her story and then, because I had been taught to personalize every prayer, I closed my eyes, laid my hands on her head, and whispered, "What is your husband's name."
She jerked her head up and hissed, loudly and angrily, "You don't need to know his name. This isn't about you. This is about God's power working through you. God knows his name. Just pray the damn prayer."
I took a deep breath, centered myself, and then prayed my most earnest prayers for healing the heart of this soul, unknown to me, but known and loved by God and trusting in the mystery of God's healing power.
That night after supper, I went over to the hospital ICU to visit him. To my amazement, he was sitting up in bed, eating a light supper. His wife burst into tears and came running to me, falling into my arms, filled with apologies and gratitude.
"God worked a miracle through you," she said, "I'm so sorry I was so horrible to you. You didn't deserve that."
I apologized for upsetting her so and explained that I was only trying to personalize the prayer.
"I know that now," she said. "This is a big change for me - women priests. I've been against them. Still am. But you? Well, I guess if God can work this miracle through you, well, I should take that as a sign."
I smiled and said, "Well, if God can speak through Balaam's donkey, God can speak through a jacka$$ like me." (Numbers 22:21-39)
We all three laughed and laughed, and in that laughter, we were all healed.
I still don't know how healing happens - or, why it doesn't, despite our most sincere and earnest prayers.
I just trust in the mystery of God's healing.
She didn't ask to be healed.
I'm talking about the woman in Luke's gospel. Scripture says only "there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years," and that "when Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." (Luke 13:10-17)
Let's set aside, for a moment, what happened after the woman stood up and the leader of the synagogue became apoplectic because the healing happened on the Sabbath.
How does that work? Healing, I mean.
I will never forget a young woman at St. David's in Salem, NH. It was the first congregation I was called to serve right out of seminary as Priest in Charge. She was not at all pleased that a woman was their priest.
It was 1986 and I was part of that first 10-year wave of ordained women in The Episcopal Church. It was a lot for some people to accept. Some never did.
Indeed, she was so angry she hollered at the Senior Warden, said some pretty hateful things to me, and then stormed out of the church.
So, I was very surprised when she came to the church one morning several weeks later, took communion, and then asked for the laying on of hands and healing for her husband. He was about 20 years her senior and had suffered a debilitating heart attack. He was in ICU and not predicted to survive the day.
She was so desperate that she even came back to church - to a woman priest whom she detested - to ask for healing for her husband.
I listened to her sob out her story and then, because I had been taught to personalize every prayer, I closed my eyes, laid my hands on her head, and whispered, "What is your husband's name."
She jerked her head up and hissed, loudly and angrily, "You don't need to know his name. This isn't about you. This is about God's power working through you. God knows his name. Just pray the damn prayer."
I took a deep breath, centered myself, and then prayed my most earnest prayers for healing the heart of this soul, unknown to me, but known and loved by God and trusting in the mystery of God's healing power.
That night after supper, I went over to the hospital ICU to visit him. To my amazement, he was sitting up in bed, eating a light supper. His wife burst into tears and came running to me, falling into my arms, filled with apologies and gratitude.
"God worked a miracle through you," she said, "I'm so sorry I was so horrible to you. You didn't deserve that."
I apologized for upsetting her so and explained that I was only trying to personalize the prayer.
"I know that now," she said. "This is a big change for me - women priests. I've been against them. Still am. But you? Well, I guess if God can work this miracle through you, well, I should take that as a sign."
I smiled and said, "Well, if God can speak through Balaam's donkey, God can speak through a jacka$$ like me." (Numbers 22:21-39)
We all three laughed and laughed, and in that laughter, we were all healed.
I still don't know how healing happens - or, why it doesn't, despite our most sincere and earnest prayers.
I just trust in the mystery of God's healing.
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