Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" Mark 9:23
From Mark 9:14-29 The Healing of a Boy From an Evil Spirit
I am seeing this story with new eyes, today.
Thank you, Jesus, for meeting me in between the lines of God's most holy Word.
Jesus, Peter, James and John catch up to the other disciples and find them surrounded by a crowd and teachers of the law. They are in the middle of an argument.
Jesus asks, "What are you arguing with them about?" v. 16
I assume he has directed the question to his disciples and, yet, a stranger from the crowd takes it upon himself to answer.
"Teacher, I brought you my son, who is possessed by a spirit that has robbed him of speech. Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth and becomes rigid. I asked your disciples to drive out the spirit, but they could not." v. 17-18
There is something so disturbing about this father's lack of emotion as he matter-of-factly lists his son's symptoms as if reading a medical chart. Where is his urgency? Why does he waste time outlining the facts when he could take advantage of his one-on-one encounter with the Healer and appeal to him for help for his child?
Instead of responding to the man, Jesus responds to the crowd,
"O unbelieving generation, how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy to me." v. 19
The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. How long do I have to put up with your lack of faith?
The boy is brought to Jesus and immediately falls to the ground in convulsions.
Jesus asks the father a question,
"How long has he been like this?" v 21
Why doesn't he just heal the boy? Why does he need to ask the father this question?
Because the father needs healing, too.
Earlier in the gospel of Mark we are told that Jesus' work is limited when there is a lack of faith (Mark 6:5-6).
With every question the father answers, he sheds further light on the unbelieving condition of his heart. There is no connection between his head knowledge and his heart knowledge.
If he were responding from his heart how could he have tolerated questions and answers while his son lay writhing on the ground? Why would he be willing to wait even a second longer for his son's healing? Why doesn't he do what so many before him have done; throw himself at Jesus' feet and beg (Mark 1:40; 2:1-2; 5:21-34; 5:35-43; 6:56; 7:24-30; 8:22-26)?
It turns out he is every bit as sick as his son.
"But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us." v.22
The father's reply, in the context of his earlier responses, shows that he doesn't really expect Jesus to help him. He doesn't believe Jesus can help him.
Jesus replies to the man's lack of faith with strong words,
"If you can? Everything is possible for him who believes." v. 23
In that moment, the man's life changes forever. Was it Jesus' words? Was it the tone of voice? Or was it the look in Jesus' eyes that made the father realize just who he was speaking to?
For the first time, he responds from the heart,
"I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" v. 24
He is willing and ready to believe. His heart is split wide open and the long buried hopes and dreams of a father, for a son, rise to the surface.
Without wasting another moment, Jesus rebukes the evil spirit and the boy is free.
Later, the disciples ask Jesus why they couldn't drive out the evil spirit (v. 28). He responds, "This kind can come out only by prayer and fasting." v. 29
I've always thought Jesus was referring to the evil spirit when he said, "This kind." Now, I'm not so sure that he wasn't referring to the bigger healing that had to take place in this family. The father had to be healed in order to bring his son to Jesus.
Jesus moves in response to our heart cry. He heals when our posture reflects a humble, hungry, hopeful heart.
This kind of healing...this bigger picture healing, is hard work.
Prayers...
Fasting...
We, the disciples of Christ, are called to believe on behalf of those who have yet to make a connection between their head knowledge and their heart knowledge. We must hold them up to the throne of God until they can encounter Jesus for themselves.
Jesus, help me to be willing to do the hard work on behalf of those who do not know you yet. I love you. In your name, Amen.
Showing posts with label Healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Healing. Show all posts
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Expectation
"Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, 'Don't be afraid; just believe.'" Mark 5:36
I spent some time in Mark 5:21-43, this morning. Two healings take place; a 12 year old girl is brought back from the dead and a woman with a bleeding problem is healed after 12 years of suffering.
Jesus is on his way to the home of the dying little girl. The girl's father, Jairus, a synagogue ruler is with him. The disciples are there. The crowd, that was with Jesus when Jairus came to ask for help, follows along. They want to be wherever Jesus is going. They follow in expectation.
The woman who suffers from a chronic bleeding condition is in the crowd. She works her way through the masses in order to touch Jesus' cloak. She believes,
"If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed." Mark 5:38
She does touch his cloak. She is healed. Jesus stops the entourage and insists on knowing who was healed. She comes forward, falls to her feet, and "told him the whole truth." (Mark 5:33) A private healing moment turns into an invitation to share her story with the masses.
"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering." v. 34
Jairus witnesses the entire encounter. Meanwhile, men from his home show up with bad news.
"Your daughter is dead. Why bother the teacher any more?" v. 35
Why bother?
They speak with finality. Without hope.
Ignoring their report, Jesus speaks words of his own to Jairus,
"Don't be afraid; just believe." v. 36
At this point, Jesus gets rid of the crowd and only brings three of his disciples with him. At the house, a different crowd greets them...crying, wailing, mourning. A people with no hope. They laugh at Jesus when he tells them there is no need for tears...the child is merely asleep.
They laugh at Jesus.
He clears the house of everyone but the girl's parents, himself, and Peter, James and John. To their complete astonishment (v. 42), he heals the child. Afterwards he gives them strict orders not to tell anyone about it. (v. 43).
I have been puzzling over the contrast in these two healings.
Why is it that some encounters with Jesus strengthen our faith and invite us to share our story in the context of community?
Why is it that other encounters with Jesus are meant to strengthen our faith but only in the privacy of our relationship with Him?
And I've been thinking about the two distinctly different communities where the healings took place:
1. A group of people who expected miracles from Jesus. They were open and waiting for Jesus to act. They were hungry with hope. They believed the impossible was possible with Jesus in their midst.
2. A group of people who expected nothing from Jesus. They were close-minded and without hope. Instead of clinging to the truth Jesus spoke; they laughed in his face.
Why are some groups more expectant of Jesus showing up and moving in a powerful way than others?
And how do I, as a member of the community, contribute to that expectation that Jesus will move?
I want to live my life as if I expect Him to move. I want to live my life as if I believe He is moving right now.
Help me, Jesus.
I spent some time in Mark 5:21-43, this morning. Two healings take place; a 12 year old girl is brought back from the dead and a woman with a bleeding problem is healed after 12 years of suffering.
Jesus is on his way to the home of the dying little girl. The girl's father, Jairus, a synagogue ruler is with him. The disciples are there. The crowd, that was with Jesus when Jairus came to ask for help, follows along. They want to be wherever Jesus is going. They follow in expectation.
The woman who suffers from a chronic bleeding condition is in the crowd. She works her way through the masses in order to touch Jesus' cloak. She believes,
"If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed." Mark 5:38
She does touch his cloak. She is healed. Jesus stops the entourage and insists on knowing who was healed. She comes forward, falls to her feet, and "told him the whole truth." (Mark 5:33) A private healing moment turns into an invitation to share her story with the masses.
"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering." v. 34
Jairus witnesses the entire encounter. Meanwhile, men from his home show up with bad news.
"Your daughter is dead. Why bother the teacher any more?" v. 35
Why bother?
They speak with finality. Without hope.
Ignoring their report, Jesus speaks words of his own to Jairus,
"Don't be afraid; just believe." v. 36
At this point, Jesus gets rid of the crowd and only brings three of his disciples with him. At the house, a different crowd greets them...crying, wailing, mourning. A people with no hope. They laugh at Jesus when he tells them there is no need for tears...the child is merely asleep.
They laugh at Jesus.
He clears the house of everyone but the girl's parents, himself, and Peter, James and John. To their complete astonishment (v. 42), he heals the child. Afterwards he gives them strict orders not to tell anyone about it. (v. 43).
I have been puzzling over the contrast in these two healings.
Why is it that some encounters with Jesus strengthen our faith and invite us to share our story in the context of community?
Why is it that other encounters with Jesus are meant to strengthen our faith but only in the privacy of our relationship with Him?
And I've been thinking about the two distinctly different communities where the healings took place:
1. A group of people who expected miracles from Jesus. They were open and waiting for Jesus to act. They were hungry with hope. They believed the impossible was possible with Jesus in their midst.
2. A group of people who expected nothing from Jesus. They were close-minded and without hope. Instead of clinging to the truth Jesus spoke; they laughed in his face.
Why are some groups more expectant of Jesus showing up and moving in a powerful way than others?
And how do I, as a member of the community, contribute to that expectation that Jesus will move?
I want to live my life as if I expect Him to move. I want to live my life as if I believe He is moving right now.
Help me, Jesus.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Ignoring Directions
"Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning: 'See that you don't tell this to anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them.'" Mark 1:43-44
A man with leprosy approaches Jesus and falls to his knees.
"If you are willing, you can make me clean." Mark 1:40
Jesus is willing. He heals the leper and immediately sends him away with specific directions:
Don't talk to anyone.
Go directly to the priest and present yourself.
Offer a sacrifice in keeping with the law of Moses...
That your healing would serve as a witness for those who do not believe.
A small thing to ask considering the fact that the man has just received his life back.
"Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news." Mark 1:45a
Everytime I read this story, I identify with the leper. I am right there with him; dancing, celebrating and spreading the good news that Jesus heals. Who can blame him for forgetting, in his exuberance, what Jesus told him to do?
But because the leper ignores Jesus' directions there are consequences. And those consequences have a direct effect on the Healer, himself.
"As a result, Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places. Yet the people still came to him from everywhere." Mark 1:45b
He could no longer enter a town without being mobbed. He could no longer take refuge in someone's home for a quiet meal or sleep in a bed without being disturbed. Instead, God With Us called the "lonely places" home...and even there the people found him.
I am the leper...condemned, unclean, begging, eyes on the Savior...
willing to do whatever Jesus tell me to in order to be healed.
And I am the leper...saved, clean, exuberant, eyes on myself...
forgetting Him in the joy of the healing moment.
Forgive me this I pray.
In Jesus' name, Amen.
A man with leprosy approaches Jesus and falls to his knees.
"If you are willing, you can make me clean." Mark 1:40
Jesus is willing. He heals the leper and immediately sends him away with specific directions:
Don't talk to anyone.
Go directly to the priest and present yourself.
Offer a sacrifice in keeping with the law of Moses...
That your healing would serve as a witness for those who do not believe.
A small thing to ask considering the fact that the man has just received his life back.
"Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news." Mark 1:45a
Everytime I read this story, I identify with the leper. I am right there with him; dancing, celebrating and spreading the good news that Jesus heals. Who can blame him for forgetting, in his exuberance, what Jesus told him to do?
But because the leper ignores Jesus' directions there are consequences. And those consequences have a direct effect on the Healer, himself.
"As a result, Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places. Yet the people still came to him from everywhere." Mark 1:45b
He could no longer enter a town without being mobbed. He could no longer take refuge in someone's home for a quiet meal or sleep in a bed without being disturbed. Instead, God With Us called the "lonely places" home...and even there the people found him.
I am the leper...condemned, unclean, begging, eyes on the Savior...
willing to do whatever Jesus tell me to in order to be healed.
And I am the leper...saved, clean, exuberant, eyes on myself...
forgetting Him in the joy of the healing moment.
Forgive me this I pray.
In Jesus' name, Amen.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Healing
Tuesday - Back in my room, I remember that I was going to look up the Scripture from morning Chapel. Sitting down at the desk, I open my Bible to Luke 17. Jesus is having a conversation with the disciples about sin, faith and duty.
"So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.'" Luke 17:10
We have only done our duty.
Something about those particular words grabs my attention. After waiting for further enlightenment and receiving none, I write the words down in my journal. I check in with God about "the book" again.
So, Lord, what about this book? Will You tell me anything else about it?
"There is more than one."
I am not surprised by this news. How odd to be overwhelmed over the prospect of writing one book and yet remain perfectly calm at this particular revelation. It helps explain why I feel torn in different directions whenever I think about writing. There is more than one book in me. Hmmm.
The dinner bell signals the evening meal. While making my way down the stairs I meet up with Father Kelly. I request an appointment for spiritual direction and he promises to get back to me with a time.
I eat my dinner slowly; tasting, chewing, swallowing with heightened awareness. I am mindful of how fast I eat at home...how little I taste what I eat...and how much I take food and its availability for granted.
Thank you, Lord, for nourishment.
Father Kelly stops me as I leave the dining room and asks if tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. will work. I nod in agreement and am instantly aware of the conflicting emotions inside of me: excitement and apprehension.
When I reach my room it is dark and I fumble around for a light switch. A bare light bulb makes a feeble attempt to light up the large room. I switch on the desk lamp and wince at its harsh, artificial glare. My journals sit in a pile on the desk but I cannot bring myself to open them.
I am so tired. I glance at the clock and am shocked to see that it is only 7:30! Way too early to go to bed. I take a shower in an effort to stay awake but my body and my brain are not cooperating. By 8:00 p.m. I crawl under the covers and call it a day.
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5 a.m. Wednesday - somewhere off in the distance the coyotes begin their serenade. While I lie there listening I realize that something feels different about my face. After a few moments, I realize that my jaw is moving with a freedom I haven't experienced in a long, long time. (The week before my dentist had expressed concern over the tension in my jaw and face. She was shocked that I wasn't in constant pain.)
So that is how its supposed to move! Thank You, God. I feel great!
As I get up and get dressed the day's agenda is clear: Today is about healing. Today, we (God and me) review the events of these past few years and the emotions that came with them. We acknowledge it, celebrate it and heal where healing is needed.
The sun is preparing to rise. I step out onto the dark veranda as the sky hints of pink and orange. Two owls with deep voices call back and forth among the palm trees. A dog barks in the distance. Bats finish up their evening meal and scatter as daylight approaches. The birds are waking up.
Good morning, Lord! Let's get started!
He confirms my agenda during Morning Chapel. The second reading is from Luke 17:11-19. It is the story of the ten lepers who are healed by Jesus. Only one of them returns to give thanks.
"Jesus asked, 'Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?' Then he said to him, 'Rise and go; your faith has made you well.'" Luke 17:17-19
The Spirit reminds me that when we take the time to give thanks we receive even more from our Savior. Father Kelly shares that the Hebrew word for thanks actually has three meanings: thanks, praise, bless.
Healing and thanksgiving... This should be quite a day.
"So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.'" Luke 17:10
We have only done our duty.
Something about those particular words grabs my attention. After waiting for further enlightenment and receiving none, I write the words down in my journal. I check in with God about "the book" again.
So, Lord, what about this book? Will You tell me anything else about it?
"There is more than one."
I am not surprised by this news. How odd to be overwhelmed over the prospect of writing one book and yet remain perfectly calm at this particular revelation. It helps explain why I feel torn in different directions whenever I think about writing. There is more than one book in me. Hmmm.
The dinner bell signals the evening meal. While making my way down the stairs I meet up with Father Kelly. I request an appointment for spiritual direction and he promises to get back to me with a time.
I eat my dinner slowly; tasting, chewing, swallowing with heightened awareness. I am mindful of how fast I eat at home...how little I taste what I eat...and how much I take food and its availability for granted.
Thank you, Lord, for nourishment.
Father Kelly stops me as I leave the dining room and asks if tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. will work. I nod in agreement and am instantly aware of the conflicting emotions inside of me: excitement and apprehension.
When I reach my room it is dark and I fumble around for a light switch. A bare light bulb makes a feeble attempt to light up the large room. I switch on the desk lamp and wince at its harsh, artificial glare. My journals sit in a pile on the desk but I cannot bring myself to open them.
I am so tired. I glance at the clock and am shocked to see that it is only 7:30! Way too early to go to bed. I take a shower in an effort to stay awake but my body and my brain are not cooperating. By 8:00 p.m. I crawl under the covers and call it a day.
----------------------------------------------
5 a.m. Wednesday - somewhere off in the distance the coyotes begin their serenade. While I lie there listening I realize that something feels different about my face. After a few moments, I realize that my jaw is moving with a freedom I haven't experienced in a long, long time. (The week before my dentist had expressed concern over the tension in my jaw and face. She was shocked that I wasn't in constant pain.)
So that is how its supposed to move! Thank You, God. I feel great!
As I get up and get dressed the day's agenda is clear: Today is about healing. Today, we (God and me) review the events of these past few years and the emotions that came with them. We acknowledge it, celebrate it and heal where healing is needed.
The sun is preparing to rise. I step out onto the dark veranda as the sky hints of pink and orange. Two owls with deep voices call back and forth among the palm trees. A dog barks in the distance. Bats finish up their evening meal and scatter as daylight approaches. The birds are waking up.
Good morning, Lord! Let's get started!
He confirms my agenda during Morning Chapel. The second reading is from Luke 17:11-19. It is the story of the ten lepers who are healed by Jesus. Only one of them returns to give thanks.
"Jesus asked, 'Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?' Then he said to him, 'Rise and go; your faith has made you well.'" Luke 17:17-19
The Spirit reminds me that when we take the time to give thanks we receive even more from our Savior. Father Kelly shares that the Hebrew word for thanks actually has three meanings: thanks, praise, bless.
Healing and thanksgiving... This should be quite a day.
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