Read: John 9:1-41
“… Isn’t this the same (one) who used to come sit and beg?”
Our focus this year is on community.
When I’m not feeling well, I go into isolation. It’s not because I am contagious or unclean (although I certainly could be). It’s simply because I find my suffering deeply personal. I don’t try to hide my suffering. There’s no shame involved. I had a friend who was a physician, and his hair was always jet-black until he retired. He then went gray – almost white–haired overnight. He no longer had to color it to keep up the appearance of being young for his clients. I found he actually looked ten years younger with his natural hair than he ever did with it dyed. Sometimes our vanity or training calls for the erection of a facade. No, I don’t try to hide my frailties, nor do I wish to brag about them. I don’t suffer martyrs well either, to be honest, so I try not to pull that out of the haversack of fakery I keep close by for emergencies.
No, when I am not well, I isolate myself so that I may recover more quickly and with fewer distractions. Give me chicken soup, take my blood, poke me with needles as needed, but otherwise just stay away so that, in my being healed, I can recover enough to rejoin the human family. When I’m feeling human again, that’s when I will leave my sick bed.
The man born blind lived most of his life in isolation. The unwell were often shunned. My isolation is short-term and by choice, but not so the one born blind (or deaf). And yet, Jesus draws near. Jesus touches. Jesus anoints with a holy mudpack and sends him off for a self-service facial baptism. And the one is healed by the One, restored to a new community, because the old one challenges, chastises, and ostracizes. Not Jesus. “You’re well; it is the work of God; leave darkness behind, and join us.”
Let us pray. God, the forces for healing and restoration are varied; they rest in your hands. Heal and restore us so that we may be instruments of healing and restoration to this community in which we live. Amen.
– Fr. Keith Axberg