Unlimited Healing

 Do you believe that I am able to do this?  This is the question that the Savior poses back to two blind men.  They come in hopes of being healed.  But their plea to the Lord does not call out that request explicitly.  Their request is far more broad based than, “Will You heal our blindness?” 

What is their plea, then?

Son of David, have mercy on us!  The Name they use, “Son of David,” indicates a spiritual vision not displayed by the Pharisees.  The title is indicative of their recognition of our Lord’s rightful claim to being labeled “King of the Jews”, and one might go so far as to attach their use of the reference to David as extending to their recognizing Jesus as Messiah.

Once again, we scripturally encounter “The Jesus Prayer”.

But let’s move forward to the healing.

In response to the Lord’s question, Do you believe…, the blind men’s response is simple.  Yes, Lord.  St. Matthew records that Jesus touched their eyes.  But then hear the humility of God the Son.  He does not call attention to Himself with an exclamation such as “I heal you – go in peace.”  Rather the Lord ‘reflects’ the miracle back onto the blind men.  According to your faith let it be to you.  Putting this another way, the Lord is saying, “You say you believe.  Prove your belief by showing that you are healed.

Isn’t this intuitively backwards from how we approach our prayers of need?

When we’re ill, our prayer may take many different forms.  It may begin as did these blind men with the Jesus Prayer.  It may begin with thanksgiving – “Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with adversity, for it places me at Your feet seeking Your intercession.”  It may being with desperation – “Lord, I have no other help but You….”

Whatever form our prayer takes, we offer it and then sit back and wait for the Lord to answer.

I think this might be rooted in some sort of misplaced humility.  “I don’t know the Lord’s will….”  Remember two instances from scripture. 

The first is from the Gospel of St. Mark (9:23-24) where Jesus encounters the man with the epileptic son.  Our Lord’s words?  If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes.  And we know the man’s reply.  Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!

The second is from the Gospel of St. Luke (5:12-13) where a leper comes to the Lord and says, Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.”  St. Luke records that Jesus put out His hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing; be cleansed.

It is not the Lord Who is slow to answer our prayers.  It is we who are slow to exhibit faith in His providence and His love for us.

Today’s lesson ends with yet more healing.  Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the Gospel of the Kingdom, and healing every sickness and every disease among the people.  Notice this does not say “some disease,” nor even “many diseases.”  The word is EVERY, meaning ALL MANNER of sickness.  Today’s Gospel focuses on blindness, leprosy and demon possession.  But there’s truly no limit to our Lord’s healing.

Selfish for Salvation

We like to think of ourselves as a people who compassionately care for the needs of others.  We're comforted when our donations to the Red Cross are found helping victims of storms.  We feel good about giving to St. Jude's Children's Hospital.  We no doubt from time to time hand cash to that beggar on the corner.  In all of this we "feel" like we're being selfless, "Doing the Lord's work," so to speak.  Doing works such as these is a wonderful thing.  It is in fact following our Lord's commandment to care for "the least of His brethren." (Mat 25:40)

However, it doesn't take a lot of thought to come up with ways in which selfishness rears its ugly head in our day-to-day lives.  There's the evidence found on any given black Friday when people push and shove others out of the way to get one of the first 50 tv's on sale for half off.  There's the recent memory of hoarding of toilet paper as the pandemic struck.  There are the people who know that a highway is necking down from two lanes to one but choose to take the "me first" lane and cut in front of those who have the discipline to follow the rules.

And so we understand that selfishness still abounds around us.  But we often remind those who are part of our worshipping community that there IS a time and a purpose where selfishness is a virtue rather than a vice.  When?  

Being selfish for my salvation!

Finding the path to salvation (Theosis) is a path of finding peace in our lives.  St. Seraphim of Sarov famously said, "Acquire a peaceful spirit and thousands around you will be saved."  And so seeking salvation, while able to be couched as a selfish act, carries with it the corollary that those with such a spirit will be found to help those "least of His brethren" who will be exposed to his or her peaceful spirit.  

Consider the thieves crucified with our Lord.  The one on the left uttered a "prayer" that said this:  "If You are the Christ, save Yourself - and us!"  It's a very contemporary kind of prayer.  It basically says, "Give me what I want, and give it to me NOW!"

The wise thief on the right prayed with greater wisdom.  "Remember me, O Lord, when You come into Your kingdom!" (Luke 23:39-42)  The prayer asks for nothing immediate.  It pleads for a promise of blessings to come.  It is 'selfishly' humble.  

Had our Lord granted the prayer of the left thief, the act would have impacted three souls, and it would have extended this life only, providing noting eternal.  Granting the prayer of the right thief, salvation becomes available to any human soul that believes in the Lord, and it saves not this perishable life, but provides entrance to life eternal.

And so each of us must live our lives working out our own salvation.  "Therefore, my beloved, ...  work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure."  (Phil 2:12-13)  We are called to do this by using the talents given us by God.  “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” (1 Peter 4:10)

If we can do these things, perhaps we will find that peace in our lives, the peace that can be seen by others so that they, too, with the help of the Holy Spirit, might through their own prayers and inspired use of talents, find their own path to salvation.

Note From a Pilgrim at Vatopedi Monastery

He was a short man, dressed in a monastic cassock that provided him with anonymity towards his brethren. White beard. A slight forward bend to his stance, I imagined from years spent quietly and obediently serving his Lord. Whether he was monk or hieromonk or otherwise, there was no way to tell. In monasticism there are no military battle insignia, no ribbons on display at the chest to indicate battles won, theaters conquered. There is only the silent image of a humble man serving as directed those who, like this unworthy pilgrim, come in faith to witness the treasure that he guards.

The treasure itself is small. From a distance the treasure calls no attention to itself. One gains an appreciation of the treasure's importance based not on observing the relic directly, but by observing the line of people standing and waiting to venerate it, to prostrate themselves before him, to silently receive his blessing.

"He" is Saint Andrew, the first-called of the Apostles. When reality catches up with this pilgrim, it brings tears of reverence and joy because St. Andrew is the patron of the church in which this pilgrim was baptized, in which he offered his first confession, in which he first served inside an altar as an acolyte, in which his parents were wed, as well as his brother, in which many of his family reposed, from which they were buried. The presence, the physical presence of this patron floods the pilgrim with memories of all of these things - blessings granted by the saint's (and the pilgrim's) Master without need to ask for them, blessings founded in the saint's patronage and the Lord's knowledge of our needs even before we know them. Blessings that came from that small community church which made it "the cradle" that nurtured and set on the path this one cradle Orthodox Christian. Now all of these memories flood to the surface with the urgent need for thanksgiving.

The guardian monk motions the pilgrim to draw near. It's your time. Come. See. Touch.

I make my prostrations. Fearful of the holiness of what is present before me, I kiss the silver cover over the relic, a cover with an opening exposing the head of the blessed saint. I place my pectoral cross into the open hand of the guardian monk, who lovingly takes it, makes the sign of the cross over the saint with it, touches the cross to Saint Andrew's head, then turns and places it back into my trembling hand.

As he does so, he takes notice of that right hand. He grasps the wedding ring thereon. I don't think he spoke English. This pilgrim speaks no Greek. But by the grace of God we together understood one another. He showed recognition that the pilgrim is a married priest. At this, he took that ring covered finger and touched the pilgrim's ring and hand to the head of the saint. The pilgrim became an instrument conforming to the guardian monk's guidance. The monk then indicated that I should venerate the relic itself. Simultaneously with both great fear and great peace, the pilgrim conformed to the instructions of the monk. I kissed the head of Saint Andrew! My lips have touched one who walked with, spoke with, and touched my Lord and my God; one who was an apostle of the Forerunner and who took St. John's encouragement to follow Christ; one who was witness to the Master's ministry, His miracles, His love for mankind. He was there at the raising of Lazarus. He had his feet washed by the Lord. He was called 'friend' by the Lord. He was in the room when the resurrected Lord entered through closed doors. He witnessed the Ascension. He carried the Gospel throughout the world on his missionary journeys. He was martyred in his love for Christ.

With head still spinning from all these recognitions and pondering them, I turned to walk away, but was called back. The monk held out his hand and placed a vial of holy oil into my own hand - a blessing to share with the flock I've been called to serve.

The pilgrim tried to resume the pilgrimage. But as he prayerfully walked away, he recognized that those last 5 or 10 minutes of his life changed him - forever.

Now he gives thanks to his Lord. He gives thanks to Saint Andrew. And he gives thanks to the nameless humble monk who served as the instrument permitting this grace-filled moment to occur. He prays that he too may find repentance and humility in the time the Lord blesses him to remain in this life.