Real Healing

We know from so many seemingly unanswered prayers that He often allows the continuation of physical or circumstantial pain because there is something else He is doing in it.

For more than a year, I have done very little writing. Only my commitment to writing Gospel reflections for Diocesan and some for CatholicMom has kept me putting pen to paper. It’s been a very painful year as I grapple with some very difficult circumstances that left me questioning not only what I do, including my writing, but also who I am - my identity and my worth - in a way that I did not expect to need to do at this stage of my life.

These circumstances also left me questioning God. Though I believe with all my heart that He cares for me, my experience has been telling me otherwise. I do not believe that these particular circumstances were His ordained will, but they were within His permissive will. And, as He does, He uses all things for our good, whether we see it or not. He redeems everything and makes it better than if it had never happened in the first place. After one and a half years of pain, I am beginning to see some fruit. He was working behind the scenes in places too deep for me to see. The seed was germinating even as I complained (but made acts of trust in the midst of tears), and now it’s beginning to take root.

I am wounded, but with the help of people He has put in my life, He is debriding that wound and also opening access to deeper wounds that had healed over but were still ulcerated. I am seeing how much pain was left that I had thought was generally healed, and I am beginning the work of deeper healing. God has put a few things in place for the first half of this year that will be very painful but will ultimately lead to greater wholeness of body, mind, and, most importantly, soul. And I think it will bring my writing deeper as well and give me more to share with you.

God transforms us in our pain - through our wounds and other crosses. His cross was transformational for all of humanity, and, through the power of His cross, He uses ours as well to redeem and restore us and others. But that transformation is not typically easy. While He can heal us by speaking a single word over us, He so often asks for our participation and our surrender. How I wish that He would simply heal me now, but I know, in the long run, the slow transformation will be very fruitful.

I wanted to share all of this today in light of the Gospel. Today’s Gospel is the one in which a paralyzed man’s friends lower him through the roof in front of Jesus. Jesus is questioned by the scribes and Pharisees when He forgives the man’s sins and asks which is easier, to forgive sins or to heal paralysis. To demonstrate His authority, He then heals the man physically.

This is one of the Gospel reflections I had written for Diocesan and thought I’d share here today:

Typically when we pray for healing, we pray for physical healing, or perhaps emotional or relational healing. We don’t tend to think so quickly of our need for spiritual healing.

When the paralytic’s friends lowered him through the roof and placed him before Jesus, they were also seeking physical healing. However, Jesus’ first words to the paralyzed man were, “Child, your sins are forgiven.”

One could argue Jesus said this because Jews of that time believed there was a strong connection between a person’s sins and their ailments, that the first was the cause of the second. However, I sense there is a bigger significance to Jesus’ words than this, one which pertains also to us.

While Jesus certainly cares for us on a physical level, He knows the spiritual state of our souls is more important. We know from so many seemingly unanswered prayers that He often allows the continuation of physical or circumstantial pain because there is something else He is doing in it. He frequently uses our crosses to bring about a conversion or a surrender to Himself, to remind us how much we need Him, or to humble us.

He often uses times of helplessness or “paralysis” to show us we are not so self-sufficient as we would like to believe we are. Though we may try to be strong, in reality we are little, weak, and sinful, in need of His mercy and forgiveness. Like the paralyzed man, we are invited to lay down before Jesus and surrender, to give up control and lie docile in His loving and gentle arms. When we do so, Jesus can truly do His work of healing.

Jesus’ healing work is not always obvious. It is often silent and hidden, like the forgiveness of this man’s sins. It is easy for us to question whether anything is actually happening, especially when we are looking for something we can see or feel.

The scribes and Pharisees questioned Jesus. What gave Him the authority to forgive the man’s sins? They were looking for a sign, for proof that Jesus could do what He had said. Jesus responded by healing the man of his paralysis as well. It was a compassionate move but was also one done almost as an afterthought, knowing He had already completed the more important work.

However, since their hearts had not been converted, the physical healing only served to drive them further from the truth of who Jesus is.

I grapple frequently with my own physical and circumstantial crosses. It is difficult when prayers for healing or improvement seem to go unanswered. But when I look more closely, I can see God has been moving in each one, healing me spiritually and drawing me deeper into His love. Physical or circumstantial healing often takes place as well, but, when it does, it is frequently delayed or gradual so as to allow time for the more important spiritual work to be accomplished.

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