Pauca Verba is Latin for A Few Words.

Sunday, November 17, 2019

But It's Not Really About The Withered Hand




6 Now on another Sabbath he went into the synagogue and began to teach, and a man was present, and his right hand was withered. 7 And the scribes and the Pharisees were watching him to see if he would cure somebody on the Sabbath, hoping to find something to charge him with. 8 But he knew their thoughts; and he said to the man with the withered hand, 'Get  up and stand out in the middle!' And he came forward and stood there. 9 Then Jesus said to them, 'I put it to you; is it permitted on the Sabbath to do good, or to do evil; to save life, or to destroy it?' 10 Then he looked around at them all and said to the man, 'Staretch out your hand,' He did so, and his hand was restored. 11 But they were furious and began to discuss with one another what they might do to Jesus. Luke 6:6-11

Verse 6: This is the second trouble-on-the-Sabbath story. Jesus is teaching in the synagogue, which is the local Jewish gathering house for prayer, instruction and study. Was the man with the useless hand in attendance because he knew Jesus was in there and would be helpful? Or is he in the synagogue because he's a regular worshipper? We don't know.  Notice the gospel tells us it's the man's right hand that's withered. That means he can't work.

Verse 7: The religious officials were watching Jesus. They are suspicious and on the look out to see how Jesus will offend the Sabbath laws. Observing the Sabbath - filled with suspicions!

Verse 8: "But he knew their thoughts."  Jesus isn't a mind reader, more likely he knew they were up to no good because they followed him around and regularly spoke to him in testy ways. But this doesn't stop Jesus; he isn't afraid of them. The rest of the verse might suggest he even baits them, inviting the hand-crippled man to "stand up here in the middle."

Verse 9: Now it's plain to see, Jesus is setting them up. He asks them the essential question. Are we allowed to do good on the Sabbath...save life?   Notice that the leaders don't answer. Jesus often teaches people by asking probing questions. 

Verse 10: Jesus looked all around the circle. We can imagine he made eye-contact. We're told he looked around at them all. His message is for everyone. We've missed the mark if we think the teaching of Jesus is for someone else—Them. We witness the invitation of Jesus: "Stretch out your hand," and healing follows at once. But notice: as when Jesus heals the lepers, he's restoring people who had previously been marginalized. Now he restores a man who can't work - who's unemployable.  

When you've got work, you've got your dignity. A lot of people are denied their dignity in our world today. The Christians - the ones who know this story - ought to be the experts in helping people to realize their dignity. But instead, we're often the excluders, who don't want to see or know them, let along invite them in. It's the major complaint many people make when leaving the Church.

Verse 11: But they were furious.  Not a very holy Sabbath. Anger, even fury, can be a real Sabbath spoiler. Maybe folks furious about the homily they heard that morning. My goodness: I remember as a boy the pastor standing at the pulpit one Sunday and addressing a congregation of hundreds after the local police reported to him that many of the parishioners cursed at them for not getting the cars out of the parking lot fast enough. The Holy Host barely swallowed!

And these scribes and Pharisees put their furious heads together to talk about what to do with Jesus - which means how they could get rid of him. He was rocking the boat.  I was at a priest meeting and the bishop said that Tuesday was the heaviest mail day - piles of angry letters written and posted on Sunday and delivered to the chancery by Tuesday. Or the angry men who walk out of homilies. I've never seen a woman walk out of a homily. What's that about?

I'm smiling now, but when I was newly ordained, the pastor called me into his office and read a letter of complaint he'd received about me. For forty years I've ended homilies with the little Franciscan phrase, "And in all of these things the Holy Spirit enlighten our hearts and our minds. Amen."  This angry complainer made his case to the pastor against me and finished off saying, "May the Holy Spirit enlighten your heart and your mind as to what to do with this young man."

But for all of my ignorance and inexperience as a new priest, I knew my task in the pulpit wasn't to make us comfortable. Jesus may have comforted the handicapped man, but the miracle wasn't about him really, was it?  We might say Jesus is something of a provocateur. Will I allow it?