It is 1:44 a.m., and I am wide awake after having slept only a few hours. I woke up an hour ago to find two text messages from a friend asking for prayer for two men. One man I have never met seems to be in very real danger of having a foot amputated, and the other man I know fairly well has found out a week or so ago that he has cancer—bone cancer, likely advanced according to his PET scan.
I try to put this in perspective. Am I hearing more and more about sick people because I am a senior who has been stricken by cancer myself? But then, these two men are probably middle-aged, if I had to guess. The message asking me to pray for them felt like a gauntlet of sorts. You may recall the medieval custom of knights throwing one of their armored or leather gloves to the ground at the feet of their adversary; it was a personal challenge to engage in confrontation or conflict. This practice continued well into the nineteenth century as a matter of personal honor before a duel or other bloody engagement.
Prayer is not an easy thing for me; it can be exhausting and frustrating. As I started to pray, I sensed the Spirit of God. The Spirit was not overpowering, as it sometimes can be; it was (figuratively) as if I were in a dark room and suddenly noticed a dim glow across the room. The subjective point driven home to my mind was that this is something important.
My wife and I are currently trying to find our way through these dark, difficult times. We’ve become estranged from people we’ve loved who wonder whether we are truly Christians. Truth be told, we often wonder the same about them, but there’s the rub. I think my wife, Deena, and I
will have heartache and pain in the months and years ahead, but this is the consequence of allowing God to shape us into His image in some small way. God accepts you and welcomes you into His kingdom when you repent regardless of whether you are a thief, a child molester, a pyro, a drug addict, a serial killer and so on. But, of course, He doesn’t want these adjectives to be typical of Christians. so there is a process, nay, a metamorphosis that takes place in the new believer overe time. This is why St Paul says in II Corinthians 5:17 “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new”. And, it may be a painful process to break free from those things and relationships that hold you down.You have to eventually move out of your comfort zone. Accepting the gauntlet took me out of my comfort zone.
I had to accept the gauntlet because caring for others, including strangers and people who may not know or care for me, is part of my identity as a Christian. It would have been callous of me, perhaps even cowardly, to not accept the challenge, knowing who it was that selected me and entrusted me with His life saving message.
Approaching a dystopian society.
Meanwhile, the streets, homes, neighborhoods, towns, and cities in the U.S. are flooded with people just trying to hold everything together, tossed from crisis to crisis. It is one huge mass of humanity suffering, walking in darkness, oblivious to anything but their own circumstances. In many cases, they don’t have a clue or hope in something greater than themselves, but we do, and that is precisely why we are called to serve.
I know well what cancer is; my father died of it and I’ve just finished two years of chemotherapy myself. Jesus knew what cancer was; He cured a woman with cancer of the uterus. Now, I blog about cancer and pray for those with cancer.
In this post, I want to write about weakness, sickness, hope, and Jesus. So, here we go.
God knows our weaknesses
In the one hundred and third Psalm, David writes that God knows how we are formed; He remembers that we are dust. We are also, in some sense and to some degree, actually stardust, as dust carried by meteors mixes with volcanic ash and the aeolian erosion of rock. However, we are mortal nonetheless. We were formed to live forever, but because of some bad choices early on, this is no longer an option. We are born, and then, usually within a century, we die: ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Elsewhere I’ve written of the inverse relationship between our own feelings of self-sufficiency and what God is able to do for us in those cases. Paul says that God’s power in us is perfected not by our physical strengths, our intellect, our discipline, our 401(k) balance or curriculum vitae but in our weakness. Thus, hardships are not instances of despair and abandonment but rather opportunities for a more intimate relationship with out Creator and forpersonal spiritual growth. The weakest Christian is potentially more formidable than the most powerful demon there ever was. But if that Christian thinks he doesn’t need help, then he probably won’t get any. God has no use for pride, arrogance and so on.
Weakness
The word in the Bible for weakness is ἀσθένεια (astheneia), which can refer to feebleness without strength. Hippocrates (c. 460 BC – c. 370 BC), the “Father of Medicine,” uses astheneia in the context of the weakness experienced by a patient. Have you ever had surgery or an intestinal flu with repeated bouts of diarrhea? Remember how you would just collapse in bed, too weak to even move? Have you ever done chin-ups at the gym, where the last one or two are so hard to perform that your muscles tremble? That is weakness. So is undergoing chemotherapy or radiation treatment for cancer.
The Greek playwright Euripides (c. 480 BC – c. 406 BC) used the term astheneia to describe psychological or emotional deficiencies in his characters that led to their downfall. Aristotle (c. 384 BC – c. 322 BC) speaks of people who are morally weak. These individuals struggle to change destructive habits. They want to stop smoking or vaping, but they lack willpower. The Greek historian Plutarch (c. 40 AD – c. 120 AD) used the word astheneia to describe the people around Alexander the Great and how, in contrast to Alexander’s political and military power, everyone else around him was weak. Today in Washington, there are few people in charge of the government who would be competitive candidates for their positions if they were vacant. Many of them were just talk show hosts, real estate developers, or golfing buddies. It is only through the strength of the current president that they were installed in office in the first place, and that they keep their positions to this day. Were the president to leave office, they would quickly follow, just as it happened after Alexander’s death.
There are true diseases that cause global (overall) weakness in people, such as myasthenia gravis and muscular dystrophy. Additionally, depression, adrenal insufficiency, electrolyte disturbances, heart failure, and kidney failure can leave a person feeling washed out. Paralysis, which is often permanent, is another condition that affects the ability of muscles to contract—key to movement, whether it’s reaching for something or performing simple actions like swallowing.
There are also perceived weaknesses. In these cases, muscles are not completely flaccid, but it appears to take much more energy to contract them. Sometimes, there are clear physiological reasons for the weakness; other times, there are not.
Possibilities
In Matthew, chapter 9, several people are carrying a paralyzed man to a house where Jesus is speaking. However, the crowd, which has spilled out into the street, makes it impossible to carry the patient inside. So, they lower him through the roof of the house. Jesus understands that sometimes the root of a problem lies in the mind or the soul and tells the man that his sins are forgiven. To mollify the anger of the religious authorities, he tells the man to get up and walk. But by that time, the healing had clearly taken place.
Dissociative disorders, stress and trauma can all cause paralysis even today. Functional neurological disorder (FND), formerly conversion disorder, presents with neurological symptoms (e.g., paralysis) that often follow psychological stressors, including guilt. Without minimizing what Jesus did for the man, perhaps the paralytic just needed reassurance of God’s love?
The struggles of the saints
There is generally no significant correlation between a servant’s holiness and their health, though in some cases there could be. After all, God is God. Some good people and people of faith are are healed and some not. If you are struggling with a deadly disease, God as your Creator may allow the disease to run its normal course. That does not mean He loves you any less. After the better part of a century studying and stumbling through this life, I don’t have the answers to many of life’s mysteries, but I believe that it is important to God and to ourselves to be content with whatever God has in store for us. Yet, I say this with humility because I don’t have a dying son in the next room who will not see his fifth birthday. My wife and I live middle class lives by U.S. standards. We are not wealthy by any means, but we live like kings and queens compared to most people in the world. And we are grateful.
In I Samuel 16:7, Scripture says “. . .the LORD sees not as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” God has a special place in His heart for people with disabilities, and so should we if we desire to imitate Christ. Moses had a speech impediment, yet God used him to proclaim His commandments to Pharaoh and to the world. David was the “runt of the litter” among his seven brothers, and he became the greatest ruler Israel ever had. The Apostle Paul was said to be bow-legged and to have a nervous disorder, along with an unspecified medical problem, perhaps temporal lobe epilepsy, migraine headaches or cataracts. The prophet Jeremiah had serious issues with self-esteem, requiring God to prop him up emotionally on occasion. John the Baptist and the Apostle Peter had moments of doubt when circumstances in their lives became tough.
Some of the saints in the Catholic Church similarly faced challenges, including cerebral palsy (Servulus, died c. 590, and Hermann of Richenau, 1013-1054), who possibly also had spina bifida; blindness and scoliosis (Margaret of Castello, 1287-1320); hemiplegia (Eileen Rosaline O’Connor, 1892-1921); muscular dystrophy (Darwin Ramos, 1994-2012); tuberculosis (Maximilian Kolbe, 1894-1941); autism (Christina the Astonishing, 1150-1224); and depression (Benedict Joseph Labre, 1748-1783), to name just a few.
Weaknesses of the psyche
If, for a moment, you think of life as a game of cards, each of us is dealt a different hand at birth. Some of us are destined for great things; we have exceptional genes. Others, perhaps, will be very attractive when fully grown. Still others, however, face challenges or disabilities that, in some cases, can be overcome with surgery or therapy, while the remainder may not be able to attain or enjoy what we consider to be normal lives. Our nurturing is almost as important as our inherent abilities because we’ve all seen people with bright futures who do not develop their talents, idling away their time, or getting caught up in substance abuse or some other destructive vice. For the moment, I am referring to those psychological disorders that are in our power to change if we make change our priority.
When I was the department chair for Behavioral Sciences at my college, a woman once called me about a full-time position in our psychology program. She asked me about the salary professors make, the enrollment at the college, and what sort of teaching schedule she might expect if selected. I told her what her minimum course load would be, and that it included both classroom and distance learning courses. She then asked if she could be excused from teaching in the classroom—if selected—and focus exclusively on internet instruction. I explained that all professors were expected to teach a mix of classes, whether on campus or at a remote site, during the day, in the evening, online and in the classroom. She repeated her question, and I asked her whether there was a specific reason she did not want to teach in a classroom. Was she confined to a wheelchair? Did she have a serious disfigurement or medical condition? She replied that she was simply very nervous speaking in front of a group of people, whether they were students or not. She also admitted that she could not control her nervousness. I told her that, if selected, we would make any reasonable accommodations to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act if that applied, but short of that, the expectation remained.
To my untrained mind, having a psychologist suffering from a neurosis was akin to having a dietitian with a very high BMI. But I was spared from having to make that choice; I never heard from her again. You don’t need selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) or benzodiazepines to get to heaven, but they can “level the playing field” for some so that they can live responsible, rewarding lives and respond to the Spirit of God. I doubt, however, that these drugsare silver bullets in all cases, let alone in most, so a certain amount of self-discipline is also required, and God can help in this regard. And, for some, Klonopin or Lexapro may indeed be game changers.
PTSD, child sexual abuse, playing with fire are some of the more intractable issues and they are more difficult to extinguish. Yet, with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).
Moral courage
There are times when moral courage is demanded of us, if for no other reason than that we are human. We have the parable of the Good Samaritan in the Gospel and the acts of many people in the Old and New Testaments who risked their lives for the sake of others. Just one example is Rahab, a Gentile (and a prostitute) in the Book of Joshua, who saved the lives of two Israelites. Her life changed completely. Instead of turning tricks and being disrespected and scorned for the rest of her life, she wound up playing a significant role in the Jewish community and is mentioned in the genealogy of Jesus himself! Then there is Oskar Schindler.
Schindler was just a man trying to earn an honest Reichsmark when Hitler moved across Europe in his effort to Deutschland wieder groß machen, or “make Germany great again.” But Schindler was a compassionate capitalist. He cared about his employees, who were disappearing with increased frequency. Once he connected the dots, he took action at his own peril and is credited with saving the lives of more than 1,000 Jews.
He never thought of himself as a hero. But when pressed against the wall, he could not overlook the plight of Jews under Hitler. If he spoke out, he might conveniently disappear into some camp himself, most likely Dachau, Buchenwald, or Sachsenhausen. But he knew he had to do something, yet not violent.
Confessional Protestant churches have a more or less standard confession of sin in their liturgy. The penitent admits that they have sinned against God by what they have done and by what they have left undone. The Gestapo, who arrested the Jews, sinned because they were part of the evil machine who carried our Hitler’s dirty work. Those German “innocent bystanders” who knew the score but chose to keep their heads down sinned because they did not interfere. There were things they might have done, such as hiding a Jew, sharing their ration coupons, carrying messages to family members of Jews, and so on.
We all suffer the corruptive consequences of sin. Alcoholism poisons your liver, and pornography poisons your mind. And there are other things that poison your spirit and your soul. Anger and unforgiveness poison your relationships with family and friends. Ultimately, one way or another, sin leads to death. But St. Paul, in Romans 5:20, said, “. . . where sin increased, grace increased all the more. . .” Don’t be troubled by the verb tense; this is a promise that is still true today. Paul is saying that God’s grace and forgiveness are available to all who sin and ask Him for forgiveness.
One person in a fight with another can cause the death of an individual. The facts and circumstances can be summed up in a fairly brief indictment. But what if someone is complicit in the death of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of people? When does God’s grace and forgiveness run out? Paul says it does not.
Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel was executed for war crimes following World War II. Countless numbers of innocent people died. A day or so before his execution, this Nazi was overcome with remorse, and with the assistance of a Lutheran chaplain, Keitel repented and asked God for the grace St. Paul spoke of. Keitel knew that this act would not save his physical life. He woke up on the day he was to be executed and clearly realized he was at the end of his rope—literally. That day, Keitel was hanged.
If, or whenever, you find yourself without so much as an ounce of strength, gripped by pain and hopelessness—whether through some advanced disease, a drug overdose, or an ordinary hangover—you should know that God is near you. When your world is crashing down on your head, God is near you. Whether He rescues you from the circumstances you’ve created for yourself is another matter, but if you call out to Him for deliverance, He will enter your life according to His plan for your life.
If, or when, you are weak from fear, paralyzed like a “deer in the headlights” of a car, call out to God. He will rescue you.
If, or when, you are overcome by guilt from what you have done or what you have left undone—as perhaps the paralytic man lowered from the roof was—you should know that if your heart condemns you, God is greater than your heart (1 John 3:20). And if you call on Him, you can be assured that your sins are forgiven.
With God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26), no matter how bleak your reality appears. But God won’t barge into your life uninvited; you have to ask Him in.
