The woman in today’s gospel can’t see directly in front of herself either. The osteoporosis from which she suffers has caused her to be so bent that her view of the world is confined to the ground directly below her. To see the world more broadly requires adaptation: a painful twist of the neck or an arduous lifting of her eyes to see more than the feet of whomever stands directly in front of her.
How many of us only see what is right in front of us? How many of us are so burdened by whatever ails us that all we see is the ground directly below? How many of us are so weighed down by darkness that we fail to see the light surrounding us on every side? How many of us have adapted to all the stress in our lives by just dealing with whatever is right in front of us, missing out on the beauty and opportunity around us?
We don’t need to have eyes on the side of our head, or a spinal deformity to keep our gaze downward, our worldview, narrow. The stress of daily life, the pressure of our jobs, the strife in our families, the worries in our hearts can keep our heads down.
The “bent woman” isn’t looking for Jesus, no doubt she was used to being overlooked by the folks at the synagogue, used to being less than the able bodied people around her. But Jesus? He has a laser focus when it comes to the outcast. When he entered the synagogue he saw her right away, and called her over. Jesus notices the un-noticed, He reaches out to the Other, He touches the untouchables. We don’t know what synagogue this is—what we do know is that he has turned his face toward Jerusalem, so he is traveling along the road that runs from Galilee down through Samaria and into Judea. Along the way Jesus does a lot of teaching, a lot of preaching and quite a bit of healing. So it would be easy, if you were reading the Gospel of Luke straight through, to read this excerpt as just another healing, just another miracle performed by Jesus. But as I spent time with the Gospel this week something more became apparent. You see I don’t read this just as another miraculous healing story …I see it as a story that speaks to each and every one of us as a way forward, a way out from under the burdens weigh us down…the burdens that, as Jesus tells the woman, Satan has laid upon us.
OK, a little bit about Satan...Satan is short hand for the forces of darkness, the forces of evil that exist in this world. It’s clear that the forces of light and goodness, which is God, are in a seemingly endless battle with evil and darkness---Satan. God is all that is good and bright and hopeful and true. Satan is all that is evil and dark and hopeless and false. The forces of darkness are at work in this world, the forces of darkness are at work in our world, in our lives, right now.
Lest you think I’m overstating this, look at how Jesus characterizes the woman in today’s gospel: “whom Satan bound for eighteen long years…” Bound by Satan. While that may sound a bit like something the old Saturday Night Live character, the church lady, might say, it is also true. This world can get so bound by Satan, our own lives can get so bound by Satan….
Paralyzed by fear? That’s Satan.
Unable to forgive? That’s Satan.
Full of doubt? Satan. Full of hopelessness? Satan. Full of despair? Satan. The stuff that weighs us down is Not of God. The hatred that leads to terrorist attacks, the despair that fuels this crazy presidential campaign, the inability to forgive that keeps our families in turmoil comes from darkness, from evil, from Not God.
But here’s the Good News… no matter how fiercely the darkness tries to envelope us, no matter how hard Satan tries, we have the perfect antidote: God, the source of all good and of all light. God, who takes our bentness, who takes our downward gaze, who takes all that weighs us down and straightens our backs, raises our eyes, lightens our burden and sets us free.
So this morning, no matter what binds us individually, no matter what binds us collectively----no matter what version of darkness and despair that happens to infect us, it’s temporary, not permanent; it’s curable, not terminal, it’s of this world, not of God’s. So shed what weighs you down, straighten up and look around, and allow yourself to be enveloped in the light, love and wonder that is God. +
No comments:
Post a Comment