Cruising with the Righteous

I was lying in bed this morning and the radio woke me up. Unfortunately, we have our alarm clock set for one of the national Christian radio stations. This is unfortunate, because I almost always wake up annoyed. I don't do this because I like to punish myself, but because if I put on public radio and something like Maurice Ravel's Reverie is played at alarm time, then I don't hear it and wake up. However, if I crank the volume on it, then I get shocked out of bed by pieces like the "1812 Overture". I get enough Warm 98 when I'm at the Y, and any other secular station risks me having to listen to something gross. Yes, even grosser than someone saying ,"Glory Bump". If I'm lucky I might actually hit the jackpot with Christian radio and wake up to some nice thoughtful worship music.

Not today!

Today I woke up to constant drivel about the "Cruise" -- the one where all the cool Christian's go. Of course, the first thing I wonder is: how many families go on this cruise that don't really have the money to pay for it? I dug around online and couldn't even get a price for renting a cabin on the ship! You can't actually price anything unless you register and want to book. I'm sure there's a good reason for that, a reason far beyond the gluttonous nature of the cruise line industry.

Is this good stewardship? I mean, I know we don't live in poverty, but is a follower of a HOMELESS man really going to even be able to take a "christian" cruise???

Can the people who organize this really see Jesus attending? Paying lots of money in order to go on a ship and eat too much food, mingle with the elites and then go home, having totally pulled himself from the real world?

Maybe a cruise is a way to reward the humble servants who have sacrificed for the cross -- oh wait, they can't afford to go!

Nothing like an elitist church. I guess Jesus welcomes everyone, but only some get to vacation with him. Makes me so proud to be an American Christian.

The Pig Litmus Test

Ive found a great way to judge the daily condition of my heart, and I stumbled on it quite accidentally. Several months ago, I read the story in Matthew chapter 8 where Jesus cast a legion of demons out of man and into a herd of pigs. Many times I've read that story and thought it was so great that Jesus would save that man's life by casting out the demons. There were even times when I read and loved the fact that Jesus sent the demons into swine -- was that a slight jab at demons or materialism?

I've read the story at other times and saw it from the perspective of the people in town. What a display of inexplicable power! They knew that this guy had been absolutely nuts. He even lived in the town cemetery as he was unfit for living around other people. Then, miraculously, he's perfectly normal and the entire herd of swine goes mad and jumps off a cliff. It's no surprise they were scared and even a little understandable how they wanted Jesus to leave town.

However, when I read the story last time, I had an entirely different perspective: I felt sympathy for the owner of the swine.

I thought about how it was great that everybody got to be see this man so miraculously healed, and generations of children since then have loved to read the story of the pigs throwing themselves into the ocean. However, somebody paid the price. Matthew doesn't talk about him, but somebody in that little sea port owned those pigs and that man's healing cost him quite a financial loss.

Yes, this is shallow. Yes, one man is much more valuable than a herd of swine, a mine of gold or the Crown Jewels of Britain. But when I read that story that day, I understood the frustration of the swine's owner. I imagined him, dressed in a nice biblical robe, ready to explode over this tremendous loss, while everyone else was just so happy about the bigger picture.

Then, several days, ago, I read the story again, this time to my children. As I read it and we discussed it, I realized that, once again, I was happy for the man's healing, and fine with the pigs diving into the ocean.

What changed?

I realized that my reaction to the story was based on my heart. Several weeks earlier, I was tired (well, I still am), overwhelmed by several big financial hits (a major plumbing job and car repair at the same time) and stressed with trying to provide all for my kids that I want for them to have. In addition to that I have constantly weighing on my mind that we are not in a home that is easy for two of our daughters to live in. Steps are a part of every aspect of our house, and it makes life much harder for one daughter and really difficult for our youngest. Beyond even all that, a recent visit to our daughter's orthopedist emphasized to us that there are no practical surgical options for her legs at this point. If she's going to walk, it's going to be through therapy in combination with serial casting and a lot of work on our part.

I projected onto the owner of the pigs, exactly what I was feeling. Everyone gets to witness the miracle, and I get to pay for it (through the hard work I do to educate, provide for and deal with the physical aspects of their disabilities -- ie carrying our daughter up and down steps, or waiting while she crawls, sitting her on the toilet because she can't fit her wheelchair in the bathroom, stuff like that -- in addition to the sacrifices we all make for 7 people to live on 1 income).

Since then, the "crisis" has past. So, I'm feeling a lot more balanced about things and when I read the story of the pigs, I can celebrate the healing of such a sick man. I realized that I can use this story as a sort of litmus test for where I am.

Who do I really identify with in the story? Do I identify with the man who was healed? If so, then I understand the amazing gratitude he had for Jesus. Do I identify with the townspeople who asked Jesus to leave? If so, perhaps I'm overwhelmed by his power and misunderstand his purpose. Do I identify with the owner of the pigs? If so, perhaps I'm tired, self-centered and need to pray about my attitude.

I keep thinking that all these healings that are included in the Gospels are about so much more than the healings themselves. Jesus was always very intentional in what He taught, so it would follow that He would be intentional in what He lead the Biblical authors to include.

More Thoughts on the Healings

I was thinking, again, about the miraculous healings found in the New Testament. The Lord has certainly changed my perspective on many things over the years, but my perspective on the healings are going through a most radical change. Perhaps other people have always had this all figured out, but I haven't (I've been too busy figuring out how to solve America's problems, I guess...).

Anyway, the healings have always been presented to me as acts of Jesus kindness and compassion. Teachers would point out that Jesus would choose to give his time to the "the crippled, the sick and those 'tormented by evil spirits' ". "Tormented by evil spirits" could mean almost anything depending upon whatever church I happened to be sitting in. To some it meant demon possession, to some it meant being tormented by illness and to yet others it meant mental illness. To me it shows that the concept of grouping all disabled people into one big "group" rather than seeing them as individuals with very unique needs can be seen even in ancient times.

The teaching tends to focus on the fact that Jesus was always willing to give his time to the "least of these", to the outcast, the people who no one valued. The thought being that if Jesus was willing to love even them, then certainly he would love me. Before my days as a mother of special needs children, that explanation was enough for me. Jesus did seek out the broken, there certainly is truth and insight in that interpretation.

However, once I became a Mom, I realized that there are some concerns with that interpretation. It began when I started reading children's literature about disabilities. I noticed a subtle attitude that would often come through the text: we should have compassion on them.

I freely admit that I am a curmudgeon, and that I often read through things looking for unspoken attitudes and cheap imitations of the truth. However, take, for instance, one children's book I read where a child and grandpa go to the zoo for the day. While out, they don't just look at the animals, they also look at a myriad of people with disabilities. "Look a monkey! Hey, Look at deaf girl!"

Albeit that was a wee bit of hyperbole, the feel of the book was simply that. The perspective it was written from was a "us looking at them". Even at the end of the book the kid writes a letter to a disabled kid saying, "I know your just like everybody else." Of course, if that's so true, then why did he have to write and tell her in the first place?

It's all so pedantic.

I started to think, "How would I feel to be the subject of a book like that?" "How would I like it to be labeled 'the person we're supposed to have compassion on.' "

Maybe it's just pride... but maybe something is there. As a child, how would I feel if someone wrote me a letter saying, "Really, I believe you're just like everybody else?" Well, I would be pretty concerned as to why a person would feel the need to say that to me.

So, does this apply to the miracles? I think so, because maybe, just maybe, the only point wasn't that Jesus was just compassionate, but that Jesus understood the value of people with disabilities, and that those who have a disability don't have to be on the margins of society. With Jesus there wasn't a "we" and "them." He didn't need to tell disabled people "you're just like everybody else." He knows it and He knows they know it.


Think, again, to the story of the man by the pool of Bethesda. Jesus asked him if he wanted to be healed. Our presumption is, of course, that he would want to be healed. The most common explanation I've heard for that question is that Jesus is asking him because maybe "he wants to be disabled, he wants to have an excuse for not working." But, perhaps Jesus knew that not every disabled person desires healing.

"Do you want healed?"

There's an option. Jesus understood that abundant life was available to the man whether or not his body was healed. Perhaps one of the points is that either way it's okay. It's okay for a person with a disability to want healing, and it's okay for a person with a disability to not want healing. It's a message of reassurance to disabled people. At the same time, it's a message of perspective for those of us who don't have a disability: don't presume just because someone has a disability that they wish they didn't have it.

Give compassion where compassion is due. Give respect where respect is due.

Through the Roof

Today I am thinking, once again, about disabilities. What brought this to mind is that I'm reading through the Gospel of Matthew, and I just today read through the story of the paralytic that was healed by Jesus. The version rendered in Matthew is rather vague, so I moved onto the version of the story as told in Luke.

The story goes that there was a man who was unable to walk. His friends decide that his best chance for life was to take him to Jesus. Interestingly enough, the Bible doesn't say that the friends were looking for Jesus to heal him. They probably were, especially as the scripture refers to Jesus and says that "the power of the Lord was present for him to heal the sick." But still, the text never, at least in English, specifies that.

They can't get their friend to Jesus because of all the crowds surrounding, so they climb up to the roof of the house, cut a hole in the roof, and then lower their friend down to Jesus. While I find this part especially neat, I must say that all the numerous, and also near-disastrous, home improvement projects I've been involved with causes me to be somewhat sympathetic to the home owner. Perhaps Jesus fixed the roof for him and the Bible just doesn't mention it (since he just fixed the roof like a carpenter rather than as an omnipotent God).

So, the men lower their friend to Jesus. Jesus sees the paralytic lying there and then does something that no reader of the story would expect. He forgives the guy's sins.

Now, I know what some of you reading this are thinking. You're thinking, "What kind of sins can a paralytic possibly commit? He's just lying there."

Well, from my experiences with my girls I can tell you: he has many options. Our oldest daughter was, essentially, a paralytic when she was in a body cast. She couldn't move from the chest down, and then had only 1 arm to work with up top. It was pretty restrictive. She couldn't even sit up. But, I can tell you now that she was still able to: lie, smart mouth, be prideful, steal (or at least temporarily steal something by hiding it), and dishonor her parents. And that is without any knowledge of what went on in her head! The real problem, then, is not how to sin, but what to do as a parent. I couldn't exactly put her in time out --- she was already in an involuntary 6 week time out while in the cast! But, suffice it to say that sin is definitely possible in any phase of life.

Years ago, when I first read this story (long before any real understanding of disabilities), I used to secretly question how Jesus could just look past what so obviously needed healing on this man. I didn't doubt that Jesus was compassionate, I just doubted His ability to understand what earthly life would be like when you didn't have supreme powers. Now, perhaps, I have a bit more understanding than I did then.


First of all, I think we (especially those who have no experience with disabilities) who don't have a physical disability come at the healings with some serious presuppositions, the largest of which is that, of course, these people would be bringing their friend for his physical healing. And, yet, as I mentioned before, this is never overtly stated in the text. We presume that the most important part of the story is the physical healing, because, we presume that any person with a disability would desire healing more than anything. From the start of the story, in fact, Jesus had a different view of what needed healed.

I also think of this in connection with the time that Jesus healed the man in the pool at Bethesda. Before healing the man, Jesus posed the question, "Do you want to get well?"

I've heard teaching about this passage where the speaker points out that Jesus asks this question possibly because he wanted to see if this man really wanted healed. I think there is probably some legitimacy to that interpretation -- the paralytic probably did have some attitude issues or something of the like. However, perhaps Jesus asked this question because He understood the greater truth that life isn't over just because you have a disability. That understanding came through in the question to the man at the pool, and it comes to light here. Jesus went straight to the real issue, the sin, because He knew what could be redeemed from a life with a disability. The disability didn't have to be removed in order for the man to live as a son of God. His life could still have purpose, and his eternal reward would stay the same.

So, He healed what really needed healed.

Now, some of you reading this probably didn't think about how a paralytic could sin, or that Jesus was missing the point of how the guy needed his legs healed. You were thinking the same thing as the pharisees, which essentially was: Who is this guy that he thinks he can forgive sins?

Now, I've often found this to be one of the neatest part of the story. Jesus answers the Pharisee's thoughts! In Luke 5:22, he says,

"Jesus knew what they were thinking and asked, "Why are you thinking these things in your hearts? 23Which is easier: to say, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Get up and walk'? "

Then Jesus goes on to heal the man, just to show evidence of his authority to forgive sins.

It strikes me that the stories of the healings have much more depth than we realize. I've read that these healings were just some of the miracles he performed, so obviously there must be a reason that these particular ones were recorded. Perhaps it was the nuggets of truth surrounding the healings that Jesus was more concerned about.

Was the man's life radically changed by his healing? Of course. It would be silly to think otherwise. It was a tremendous gift to be healed. However, in the end, the guy faced the same aging process and the same grave that every other person in the history of the world faces. At best a healing of physical nature is a temporary fix.

However, Jesus fixed the real problem.