The Healer
Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise. Jeremiah 17.14
Why is it that the Gospels are replete with accounts of Christ healing the sick? In the Gospel of Matthew, we are told that Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every sickness and every disease among the people (Matthew 9.35). Electrified by the healing miracles that were being reported, great multitudes came to Him, having with them the lame, blind, mute, maimed, and many others; and they laid them down at Jesus’ feet, and He healed them (Matthew 15.30).
Illness and the death that it foreshadows, whether it was afflicting these people personally or their loved ones, had the capacity to push them to the point of despair. Overriding their doubt or the threat of social reprimand that could result from their coming to Christ for help, the people of the New Testament ran to Him and begged Him to have mercy on them and on those whom they loved:
One of the rulers of the synagogue came, Jairus by name. And when he saw Him, he fell at His feet and begged Him earnestly, saying, “My little daughter lies at the point of death. Come and lay Your hands on her, that she may be healed, and she will live” (Mark 5.22 c.f. Luke 7.1–10).
This desperate need for healing was, similarly, the thing that drove the woman afflicted by chronic bleeding, who had tried every earthly cure available, but to no avail, to seek Christ. The supernatural healing that He seemed to offer, was her only remaining hope:
Now a certain woman had a flow of blood for twelve years, and had suffered many things from many physicians. She had spent all that she had and was no better, but rather grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came behind Him in the crowd and touched His garment. For she said, “If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well.” Immediately the fountain of her blood was dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of the affliction (Mark 5.25–29 c.f. Mark 2.3–5).
People ran to Christ and begged Him to help them. They were falling over themselves to get near Him; stumbling over themselves just so that they could get the chance to come close to Him. Being close to Him meant coming into contact with the healing power that flowed out of His holy hands: He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed (Isaiah 53.5).
For the historical figures that feature in these accounts, much, if not all, of this healing, is related to the transformation of the physical state, from sickness to health. Reading the Bible as an ascetic (mystical) text, however, the healing that these verses guide us to contemplate, is not the healing of the body, but , rather, the healing of the soul: the mind, the will and the heart (the spirit).
This healing is available for us today. What is required of us, however, is commitment: Let your heart therefore be wholly true to the Lord our God, walking in his statutes and keeping his commandments, as at this day (1 Kings 8.61). Extreme circumstances call for extreme measures of faith. In daring to commit, without reservation, to our sanctification, we show God that we believe in His promises: I will restore health to you and heal you of your wounds (Jeremiah 30.17a).
By putting our trust in Christ and in the healing that He had told us that He offers us, we demonstrate to Him, that we are ready to receive this healing and to make the sacrifices that are required, that its effects manifest in our lives: I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly (John 10.10b).
When we agree to enter into the mystery of inner healing, the possibility of transforming into the divine image according to which we were originally created, becomes a living reality, evident to all those around us: God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them (Genesis 1.27).
By entering into the depths of our pain, into the depths of our sickness, the wound-generated complexes that imprison us within ourselves and keep us locked in dysfunctional and self-destructive cycles of behavior, begin to lose their authority over us and, gradually—and then rapidly—dissolve and completely disappear.
Absolute inner freedom is a biblical promise: If the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed (John 8.36). Liberated from the bondage of the self (the ego), our hearts are, instead, open and available to be filled with God’s love: The love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us (Romans 5.5).
Filled with the love of God, our vessels will begin to radiate with the life and light of Christ: You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden (Matthew 5.14).
Illuminated in this way, we will then be able to do for others, the one thing that we have always wanted to do, more than anything else in the world, but that we have never, ever been able to do, as a result of being perpetually locked into ourselves—our pain, our problems, our issues, our drama: We will be able to help others to live.
Amen +
Author of You Are Mine and Apocalypse, Sister Anastasia writes on the role of the ancient, ascetic Church in a rapidly changing, modern world.
Photo by Dick Hoskins on Unsplash
Yes. Yes. And again, yes. Thank you for this important reminder that Christ healed not only to relieve suffering but to reveal the deeper wound. We are all Jairus, all the bleeding woman, all the paralyzed man lowered through the roof. We crawl to the hem of the Mystery because we’ve exhausted every earthly cure. The miracle is not just that we are healed, but that we are seen. That God, in Christ, stoops low into the mess of our afflictions, into our irrational hopes, into our stubborn grief, and does not recoil.
To speak of healing today is to risk sentimentality or denial, unless one dares to go all the way down: to the soul’s bruising, to the splinters lodged deep in the will. This is not therapy, it is crucifixion… it is resurrection.. it is the frightening freedom of being loved into wholeness, of no longer being able to hide behind our excuses or our suffering.
You have put it rightly Sister: what’s required is not merely faith, but commitment… the reckless abandon of those who throw themselves at His feet not because they understand, but because they’ve run out of reasons not to.
🕊️ Spirit 🔥 Grace and 🩸Truth,
Body and Soul x matter matters.....