4th Epiphany
Luke 13: 10-17
Once
he was teaching in a synagogue on the Sabbath. And behold, there was a woman
who had a spirit weakening her for eighteen years: she was bent over and could
not stand upright [lift her head all the way up]. When Jesus saw her, he called
her to him and said to her, “Woman, you are released from your illness!”
He laid his hands upon her, and at once she was
able to straighten up. And she praised the power of God. Then the leader of the
synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, said to the
people, “There are six days for doing work; on those days you can come and let
yourselves be healed—but not on the Sabbath.”
But
the Lord replied, “You hypocrites! Does not every one of you untie his ox or
his ass from the manger on the Sabbath and lead it away to the water trough?
But this daughter of Abraham, who was held bound by the dark might of Satan for
eighteen years, wasn’t supposed to be released from her bondage on the day of
the Sabbath?”
All his opponents were put to shame by these words,
and the people rejoiced over all the signs of spiritual power that happened
through him.
4th Epiphany
Luke 13: 10-17
Plants unfold according to their own time. They bud,
blossom, fruit when their time is ripe. In commercial settings, much is done to
control that flowers bloom according to a market schedule. But commercially
grown flowers often lack a certain thriving fullness, a radiance that naturally
grown ones have.
The ill woman in the gospel rises, unfolds, blossoms in the
healing light of the Christ sun. It took eighteen years for the fullness of the
moment to arrive. The synagogue leader
complains that this has not been properly scheduled. But grace, love that
heals, arrives in its own time. The only appropriate response is gratitude. We
may feel that we want grace to arrive on our own timetable. But the reading
makes it clear that control is vastly inferior to the working of grace.
“What is grace” I asked God.
And He said,
“All that happens.”
Then He added, when I looked
perplexed,
“Could not lovers
say that every moment in their
Beloved’s arms
was grace?
Existence is my arms,
though I well understand how one
can turn
away from
me
until the heart has
wisdom.”[1]
Grace, love, existence itself—so much to be grateful for.
