“He then said to the paralytic, “Rise, pick up your stretcher, and go home.” He rose and went home.
When the crowds saw this they were struck with awe and glorified God who had given such authority to men.”
Matthew
Our age is skeptical of miraculous cures like the one in today’s gospel from Matthew even though we take it for granted that medical science will prevent or cure formerly fatal diseases . Even if we believe that Jesus had the power to heal people, we may wonder if science today would offer a rational rather than a miraculous explanation for the paralytic’s cure.
As I was meditating on this passage, I paid my weekly visit to a brilliant friend suffering from severe dementia. Although she probably didn’t know who I was, she lit up as we played with toddler toys and sang a children’s song.
Yet even in her diminished state, my friend is sort of a miracle for the rest of us. She can hardly speak but she still has her radiant smile. She delights in simple things like the flowers in her garden and the tang of my homemade lemon bars. As we slow down to her pace, we absorb her sense of wonder at things like a smiling child. She heals all of us in a way that she didn’t when she ran an award-winning city beautification program and was revising city ordinances on development.
Still meditating on today’s gospel, I left Connie’s house determined to stop missing the miracles I’ve been too busy to notice, like the one I experienced that weekend at a Methodist church pantry program food distribution that St. John’s supports.
About a hundred middle class volunteers rose early to welcome a wild assortment of guests, many of them refugees who have lost federal food aid benefits. After filling out forms offered in a dozen languages, they waited their turn to collect the food they needed to feed their families. Some had lined up two hours before the pantry opened.
To me the miracle wasn’t that our churches had collected and distributed food but that we volunteers were hit hard by Jesus’ admonitions to welcome the stranger and feed the hungry. We even talked about this. The experience connected us with our refugee brothers and sisters whom we don’t often encounter in daily life and brought the gospel to life.
Heading back to my comfortable home, I thought about how we all need healing whether we are suffering physically like the paralytic or spiritually like the authorities. We need to let the small miracles of goodness that we experience in daily life transform us. So I’m going to try to notice and live the healing miracles happening all around me.
Eileen Wirth
I’m a retired Creighton journalism professor, active in St. John’s parish and a CLC member. In retirement, I write books about state and local history, including a history of the parish, and do volunteer PR consulting for groups like Habitat for Humanities, refugees etc. I love to read, work out, spend time with family and friends including those who can no longer get out much.
Writing reflections has deepened my faith by requiring me to engage deeply with Jesus through the Scriptures. In the many years I have been doing this, I’ve also formed friendships with regular readers nationally, most of whom I have never met. Hearing from readers and what I learn by writing make the hours I spend on each reflection well worth the effort.
