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
Feb 2, 2014
Luke
13:10-17
Many of us
have an appointment calendar, or at least a plan for the day. Sometime we are
annoyed when something unexpected prevents us from carrying out our plans.
The woman
who was ill has a direct encounter with the loving and healing being of Christ.
She has waited 18 years for just this moment. It is her illness itself that
brings her to him. The synagogue leader shows no compassion or joy. He can only
criticize. He tries to control and limit, according to the schedule.
These two,
the woman and the leader, are two archetypes that dwell in every human soul. We
all have a part of us that needs healing, a part that longs for a direct
encounter with our Creator. And we all have a part of us that says, ‘not now’.
Yes, we need
to create and protect our schedules. But the encounter with the Being of Love doesn’t
happen by appointment. It happens when it happens; when the moment is ripe;
when we are open.
So, as the
poet suggests:
Out
of the room that lets you feel secure.
Infinity
is open to your sight.
Whoever
you are.
With
eyes that have forgotten how to see
From
viewing things already too well-known,
Lift
up into the dark …
….
And
when at last you comprehend its truth,
Then
close your eyes and gently set it free.[1]