Do You Want to Be Well?

This is the question that Jesus asked before healing a certain man in the scriptures. It's a question that he asks me too. My answer sometimes doesn't come easy.

This week in church Lloyd spoke about Jesus calling the poor in spirit "blessed." Apparently, the phrase "poor in spirit" is most accurately translated as "reduced to a state of begging dependency." Most of us feel desperate. It's the dependency thing that we've yet to touch. Lloyd went on to talk about the difference between authentic brokenness and counterfeit brokenness. True brokenness is a very healthy place to be, and in fact a blessing is promised, but it's easier to step into the other place - the place of false brokenness.

People in false brokenness tend to camp out there. They thrive in its soil, and the old saying is indeed true: misery loves company. Healing sounds great, but honestly... who are we going to talk to once we get free? You have to admit, it's incredibly satisfying to associate with a few others in weakness, patting each other's backs and licking our self-inflicted wounds. Sure we're screwed up, but at least we have each other. It may be a boat full of holes we're sailing in, but isn't it good to know we're going under together?

It's counterfeit community - a fellowship that ignores things like change and transformation and replaces them with "sympathy" and "humility."

Even something like healing is not without a cost. Healing means the end of self pity. It's the end of excuses and the beginning of follow-through on the demands of Christ. I'm like a child who doesn't want to take his medicine because I know that getting well means the end of the days in bed, the bowls of ice cream, and the hallmark cards (never mind that I'll be able to eat my favorite foods again, play outside, and fill my lungs with fresh air).

The truly poor in spirit are blessed, but only because they get the Kingdom; not because suffering in itself means anything extraordinary.

As God shepherds me on this path through feelings of suspicion and offense, it takes a concentrated effort on my part not to camp out along the trail and indulge in the fantasy that my bitterness is somehow mature; that it's romantic or glamorous or cool.

In the meantime, Jesus asks me again: Do you want to be well?