Reflection - Duh?

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/111918.cfm
Revelation 1:1-4; 2:1-5
Luke 18:35-43

There are at least two incidents in the Gospels where the reader can be excused for a spontaneous “Duh” when Jesus asks a question. One incident we read about today. A man who is obviously blind is brought to Jesus and Jesus asks: "What do you want me to do for you?" Well? “Duh!” The second is in John’s gospel and the incident takes place at the pool of Bethsaida.

One man was there, who had been ill for thirty-eight years.
When Jesus saw him and knew that he had been lying there a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be healed?"
The sick man answered him, "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is troubled, and while I am going another steps down before me."
(John 5:5-7)

Taking the second incident first we need recall that the text is from John’s gospel and that John frequently teaches through symbolism. Then too, it is pertinent to remember that the desert wandering that followed the Exodus from Egypt was a consequence of the Israelite’s initial failure to enter the Promised Land. The Israelites, having left Egypt, arrived at the border of the land promised to Abraham and his descendants. Men had been sent to scout out the land. They came back with a glowing report of a land flowing with milk and honey, but . . . also with fearsome men residing there. Consequently, the people refused to trust in God and enter into this land that was promised. As a result, they were penalized with a period of desert wandering that lasted thirty eight years. So Jesus’ question becomes more than a question to one man. It is a question to a stubborn and obstinate people, God’s people, the Chosen People: “Do you want to be healed?” “Are you ready to accept your Messiah?” “Has the day finally come when you can trust what God is doing?”

So the question deserves better than a dismissive “Duh.” And it deserves better even from those of us who are readers; for the question is no less appropriate to our relationship with Jesus than it was to the Israelites’ relationship with the Father, or the sick man’s relationship with Jesus. Think about it. The question, as presented in the context of John’s gospel, is about more than superficial healing, or simple, physical healing. It is about the inner depth to which we are ready to be healed, ready to accept Jesus into our lives.

Let’s return to the text for today.

Family life can instill some bad patterns. One which particularly plagued me for years was the paucity of emotional communication in my own immediate family. In retrospect, a stoic, emotional indifference seems to best characterize our communication style. Good times were somewhat ok; but the sad, the disruptive and the traumatic encountered a wall of steel. Poor models are frequently perpetuated in succeeding generations, so the probability of poor communication in my later life was practically guaranteed. Now poor communication patterns can take a variety of forms as they are passed down the line. The consequence for me was a persistent, but unfulfilled expectation. Since verbal expression was a family deficiency, I turned to the non-verbal; the results were only minimally better; but the shift established a mindset for expecting others to know what I feel.

I’m still learning that words are, by far, the best means of sharing joys and sorrows, expectations and disappointments. As I read the story of the blind man, my experience suggested that the same may well be true in our relationship with our Father. Jesus knew what the blindman wanted and needed; but he said to the man, “Talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong. Let me share in your troubles.” It’s easy to fall back on the words of the Psalmist: “Before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it.” It’s a no-brainer to observe that God knows everything, everything we are going to say and do as well as whatever he is going to do. But Jesus is imitating the Father; and his words are but echoes of what the Father says to each of us. “Talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong. Let me share in your troubles.”

We minimize that relationship when we expect God to know what we need — though he does. We belittle the intimacy he offers when we are silent in our sinfulness — a fact of which he is well aware. We discount the fullness of his mercy and love when we attempt to go it alone. The fact that he knows us “when [we] sit down and when [we] rise up”, the fact that “[He] discerns my thoughts from afar.” (Psalm 139:2) does not diminish or substitute for the need to talk to him.

Once again we find that ”Duh” is a response that trivializes the questions Jesus asks even though it may seem initially to be appropriate. Are we truly ready to be healed? Are we clear about what it is we need from Jesus? Are we willing to ask?