Healing & Wholeness
In some ways, these two stories are about who qualifies for healing, and who doesn’t.
Clearly, there is a problem. Not many are getting the help they need.
What do we see Jesus pointing to when it comes to healing and wholeness? Perhaps my experience this week at the passport office could offer some insight.
On Monday, I went to the Galleria building on the corner of Weber and Frederick streets in Kitchener, holding in my hand a completed application and two new photos of myself that looked quite unflattering….as they are won’t to do: “No smiling, Mr. Penner!”
A few months ago, I remembered hearing that the backlog of passport applicants had been cleared, and that long lines were a thing of the past.
Feeling optimistic, I walked into the building’s spacious foyer. There was only one person in that big room, sitting with a laptop computer, focused on its screen. I thought:
“This is good! It’s a light day. I should be in and out of here quickly.”
It had been ten years since I was last here, so I needed the signage to help me remember the way. It led me down a long hallway that zig zagged a bit. So far, so good. No one around.
Then a thought entered my mind:
“You don’t suppose they’ve moved, like maybe to a kiosk at the back of a Shoppers Drug Mart or Stapples Office Supply store?”
I kept going, and then, around the next corner, there was a line of people.
A long line!
“Is this the line for the passport office?” I asked.
“Yup” said the person at the end. Hmmm.
I wondered: “How bad could it be?” It was 1:00 pm.
I called home and Kristen reminded me that I had scheduled a brief stop at our eye doctor’s office for 2:00 pm to get a lens replaced. Clearly, I was not going to get through this line in the next 45 minutes, so I decided right there to call the optometrist and reschedule.
I needed to stay in line because the clock was ticking down on my current passport, which was due to expire in two weeks. //
Ten minutes went by and soon there were others in line behind me. Somehow that felt good. Their presence and faith encouraged me to stick it out and see this through.
But then, a minute later, a person came along walking in the opposite direction of the line. She looked like she had just completed the process. Someone asked her: “How long did it take you?”
She said, “I got here at 9:30 am!” Yikes – 3 and a half hours!! Would I even get in? //
As I was thinking about leaving, suddenly, the line moved, like 20 meters! It was exciting! Surely a good sign! There and then I committed to stay.
That sudden movement of the line broke the ice for people waiting. Folks briefly remarked to one another, celebrating the renewal of our hope.
I thought, “This might be my chance to strike up a conversation to pass the time,” like you might do with the person next to you on a bus, train, or airplane.
But within a couple of seconds, most people were back on their cell phones, plugging in their ear-buds.
I looked over my right shoulder and saw that the person behind me was looking at cat videos, flipping quickly back and forth to check their social media feeds.
The person in front of me was using his thumbs to rapidly tap out texts. //
Yet, not everyone was on their phone. About six spots ahead were what appeared to be a mother and her university-attending daughter having a discussion about something.
From what I could pick up, mom was trying to tell her daughter “how it was” when she was her daughter’s age. Sounded like she was trying to impart parental wisdom.
It was the kind of conversation you might have with a family member while driving in a car to Toronto – just the two of you, alone. But here it was happening among strangers. It felt awkward and inappropriate. Didn’t they know we were all able to listen in?
The man in front of me was getting annoyed. I overheard him say quietly to his partner something to the effect that he wished they would be quiet – more aware of their surroundings, others.
About a half an hour later, further up the line and around a corner, I heard a man start talking really loudly – almost yelling.
At first, I thought the worst – that someone was losing it, maybe tired of the endless philosophical exchanges of the mother and daughter.
Everyone turned their attention forward to figure out what was going on.
Turns out it was a staff person telling those in line that if they had an appointment, they could come right in, and those who were just picking up a passport could also do the same. People in these categories didn’t have to wait.
But my hopes that the line would suddenly shrink didn’t pan out. Turns out no one fit those categories. Thus, the line didn’t move.
Half-an-hour later, this same employee walked past me and addressed the 30 people behind me, telling them that he could not guarantee they’ll get in the door before the 4 pm closing time.
He said they were doing their best to get more people in, but there was a chance not everyone would be served today.
Without saying it, I felt like he was trying to avoid an explosion of frustration should the doors close leaving some outside after hours of waiting.
He reminded people of the “mail-in” option, assuring folks that the standard turnaround time for getting their passports either way, was two weeks, barring any unforeseen catastrophe, like the office burning down.
That’s when he let it slip that he sometimes wished it would burn down – meant as a joke, but also pointing to how tiring it was for him too, to meet people’s expectations, and have to deal with some folks that get frustrated – who take it out on him.
He then went back to his post at the door, which I could now see, where he politely and professionally answered people’s questions, as well as policed the flow of how many of us could enter at a time, letting us in in groups of 5.
Clearly, he was in need of a holiday, or job change.
Feeling for the staff person, I remarked to the man in front of me –
“Wow. It must be tough being the gate keeper at the passport office.”
The man in front of me wasn’t very sympathetic. He labelled the staffer a “control freak” who, being a short round man, likely gets off on his power to make everyone wait till he says they can come in.
I decided not to say more, and turned my attention to a two-year-old boy waiting with his mother 6 people behind me. He was doing incredibly well, not complaining. His mom had brought snacks – which I’m sure helped.
Over the next few minutes, the little boy and I made eye contact. He had left his mother’s side to look out the window running along the full length of the hallway.
I went into “Grandpa” mode, offering a warm smile and a few head nods. I smiled back at his mother too. Both of them responded cautiously, unsure what to make of my interest. That was okay.
The boy’s mother was wearing a hijab, indicating her identification as a Muslim. Indeed, there were all sorts of people in our line, of different nationalities, religions, colors, ages, and careers. Some were students, some retired.
All of us wanted to get in.
After two and a half hours of waiting in line, I was allowed in.
We were each given a ticket with numbers and letters, and could finally sit on a chair, watching a screen which would eventually show our ticket number, directing us to a specific wicket.
From the time we entered, it only took 15 minutes to see a passport agent, hand over the forms, the pictures, have them checked, and pay the renewal fee.
There were ten agents. The five that I could see were serving folks with kindness, patience, and compassion.
To me it seemed like they wanted everyone to succeed – especially those who were getting travel documents to allow them to go home to see family.
I had not expected this. I assumed staff would be cranky, abrupt, and unforgiving of any errors or omissions. But the complete opposite was true!
Before it was my turn to go up the counter, to a specific wicket, the woman with the 2-year-old boy came up to me, asking for help. She wasn’t sure how she would know what wicket to go to when her number came up.
I walked her over to the T.V. monitor, and showed her where to look for it on the screen.
I was glad to help. Seems like even a simple smile can open a door and contribute to someone’s journey 😊. //
Well, here are a few thoughts that came to me regarding my experience at the passport office and these two stories of healing in Luke’s gospel.
First, we’re all in one sense standing in line, waiting for healing.
Each of us carry some experience that has left us hobbled, broken down, feeling alone, empty, frustrated, even depressed.
What if we owned that truth, and encouraged one another to do the same? Imagine the amount of energy such honesty would free up – putting an end to hiding, pretending, and over compensating.
Seems to me we should all get in line, join together, and keep our focus on coming to Christ with our wounds.
For, we’re all in the same boat! //
Second, let’s claim how strong our will to be healed is. It’s HUGE!
I am struck by the determination both men in our Bible stories have.
The man with leprosy believes his life still matters.
He believes so strongly that he basically tells Jesus the only thing standing in the way of healing is whether Jesus is willing to do it. Wow!
And pay attention to this! The man with leprosy doesn’t stand up to Jesus, demanding to be healed.
To the contrary, he falls face to the ground and begs the Lord in words that show his faith and confidence in Christ to see his worth and bestow this life-restoring blessing.
Admittedly, for some of us, that’s a huge step to make – to believe our lives still matter, that it’s not too late, that the damage and losses haven’t exceeded God’s grace. //
There are so many voices telling us we’ve gone beyond what can be washed clean. It might be the voice of a parent, or aunt, or a group of people. In fact, the loudest voice might be our own. //
Yet underneath all of these voices, a child’s voice still cries out – the child in us who still remembers the presence of God’s hands shaping us in our mother’s womb, kissing us on our forehead, never able to forget or reject us. //
I love that the man with leprosy claims the voice of his inner child and trusts Jesus.
I love that he trusts Heaven to not have given up on him.
It brings tears to my eyes that he believes that, after all he’s been through.
Even though his faith might be barely hanging on like a smoldering wick soon to be extinguished, he dares to come and wait at Jesus’ feet.
He lets go of trying to make a case for his healing. Instead, he makes the bold choice to put himself into Christ’s hands, as is, knowing the Lord can make him clean if he chooses to. He himself believes he is enough. Wow! //
Jesus cannot resist such faith!
He not only tells the man he IS willing, he also backs those words up by touching the man with his hand – a huge NO-NO. Jesus leaves no doubt when it comes to our Mother God’s all-encompassing apron. Beautiful!! //
In the relatively brief-time I was actually in the waiting room at the passport office, believe it or not, I watched a number of agents have this same attitude, wanting to do all they could to bless the people coming to their wicket.
To me it appeared they wanted to participate in building up the health of their fellow citizens through giving them this tool to travel back home to see family. It was simple mathematics: healthy Canadians make for a healthy Canada!
Again, I did not expect that! I wondered who in that building on Federick and Weber is pointing the way, leading out, creating a culture that blesses, heals, and saves lives? //
In our second Bible story read today – the man with the withered hand also believes his life still matters.
He believes so strongly that he doesn’t wait outside. He shows up in the synagogue!
He doesn’t stay away even though some might scorn his presence and proclaim his life cursed on account of some sin.
Can you imagine the courage it took to come inside knowing the odds were high his application for healing would end up being REJECTED?
I also wonder. Had he come just this once, knowing that Jesus was there, or had he been coming for weeks, months, and years – refusing to be negated?
Reminds me of the story Jesus told of the persistent widow who kept coming before a judge to get what she felt was hers. (Luke 18:1-8)
Imagine believing that much in yourself – not in your personal accomplishments and strength, but in a conviction that your life has been priceless from the start, and that all of Heaven never questions it. Wow! //
And did you notice that the man with the withered hand also demonstrates his faith by coming forward when Jesus calls him to the front? That had to have taken courage!
Also, did you notice he doesn’t say a word – doesn’t put his hand up to be noticed?
Based on this fact, I’m guessing he also wasn’t standing outside earlier with a placard, protesting the barriers he was coming up against, arguing his right to healing. No where do we learn that he utters a word to advance his cause.
To be sure, he could have pointed out a lot of faults in his family and friends. I’m sure he could have named names, exposing people who had let him down, people whose obsession with righteousness and power had inflicted evil, destroying his life.
Maybe he once did that. We don’t know. But now, he’s simply demonstrating his desire for healing by just showing up. Incredible!
It stuns me that, like the man with leprosy, what’s most important to both of them is simply this: to bear witness to that faith they have in themselves. They make their priority to be present, waiting in line for mercies from heaven that would heal and restore their lives to what they were meant to be. //
Neither of these men fight for themselves. Again, they may once have done that. But where we find them in these stories, they are simply coming forward, in the belief that they matter regardless of what anyone else says or thinks.
We watch as they make it to the end of the line, and there before humans and heaven, in their own way, they each bear witness to what Jesus was pointing to, that everyone’s life still matters, and that God in Heaven is eager and ready to proclaim it so.
Can we take our faith to the next level, ironically not hirer, but lower,
deeper into the soil like a seed planted,
and simply let go,
boldly BELIEVING we are enough,
that our wellbeing IS Heaven’s priority, period? //
Third, and last, notice that Jesus invites the community to participate in these healings.
The man who is healed of leprosy is told by Jesus to go show himself to the local priest and offer sacrifices to God.
Make a public witness of what God has done for you! Don’t talk about me. I’m only the middle man, the bearer of this Good News. Point to God!
The community needs to know and participate in giving God glory!
The community needs to daily check their compass heading, resetting the dial if necessary, such that the needle points to this truth that God has never stopped loving and valuing humankind. //
In the story of the man whose hand Jesus healed, the community is challenged to examine their actions, traditions, and laws.
Jesus asks the community a very simple question:
“Which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, so save life or to destroy it?” //
God often heals in spite of the community.
But imagine how much more healing might come about if the we got on board with Jesus, recognizing the value of every human being, journeying with those who are just wanting to be seen, as is, knowing God can make them whole and holy.
Can we journey with people, praying for and modeling the wisdom of the Cross, letting go, waiting on the Lord in our weakness, yet bravely believing God has always loved us, and desires our wholeness even now?
Please join me in prayer:
Dear God,
We are all in need of healing.
We all want to be healed too.
We might not act like it at times, but that is just it, an act, a cover up for when we feel afraid of being forgotten, rejected, and abandoned.
Sometimes we are so distraught, so wound up, so in pain, and so afraid, that we can’t hear the child within whimpering, crying in the darkness and cold of a basement cellar.
O God, You see and You know. You have never turned away from these little ones. Help us do the same – to come back and reconnect with that part of ourselves that we have kept our distance from.
Help us move through the hurt and the memories. Support us, rather than judge us, should we explode with anger, and wrestle hard with the urge to take justice into our own hands.
Work with us, be patient, strengthen us, and fight for us.
Use the faith that we have, as small as it may be, to counter the infections that threaten our future. Protect us when fevers run high, and may they be successful, sweating out the toxins, restoring us to wholeness.
Lord, as You secure our healing, make us a body committed to healing others. Give us courage to live out the foolishness of the Cross, falling into Your faithful hands.
Bless us as we point with Jesus to Your unshakeable love. May our witness only serve to increase wholeness and healing in our homes, in this church, and in our wider community.
We pray this through Jesus Christ our Lord, claiming his love for us, and his faith in You. AMEN.