The One Who Turned Back

The Ten Lepers, Jorge Cocco Sántangelo

      

(Luke 17:11-19)


Ten shattered bodies cried out
for mercy.

Quaking voices carried across distance
propelled by desperation,
a white sail of hope against hope,

their plea not answered in words. Only
"Show yourselves to be confirmed as clean"
and off they ran, aching
to cast off the smothering weight
of exile, the shunning
of those who affirmed their suffering
as mark of curse.

Each step feeling lighter, they rushed on,
all but one. The one who,
even when cleansed, would be
scorned as a mangy mongrel.
Doubly outcast,
his most tenuous claim to hope
convicted the wary heart, and
ignited the fragile embers of faith.

Perhaps for him, the gift
loomed larger, the removal
of living death more precious, the kindness
the more radiant
for being given despite barriers.

Mercy admits no calculus
of worthiness;
gratitude respects no boundary.
One turned back to rejoice and sing out thanks
from the dust.

Ten were cleansed.
One was healed.

-- Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

Blind Bartimaeus

As Jesus went into Jericho town,
Twas darkness all, from toe to crown,
About blind Bartimeus.
He said, “My eyes are more than dim,
They are no use for seeing him:
No matter-he can see us!”

“Cry out, cry out, blind brother-cry;
Let not salvation dear go by.-
Have mercy, Son of David.”
Though they were blind, they both could hear-
They heard, and cried, and he drew near;
And so the blind were saved.

O Jesus Christ, I am very blind;
Nothing comes through into my mind;
‘Tis well I am not dumb:
Although I see thee not, nor hear,
I cry because thou may’st be near:
O son of Mary, come!

I hear it through the all things blind:
Is it thy voice, so gentle and kind-
“Poor eyes, no more be dim”?
A hand is laid upon mine eyes;
I hear, and hearken, see, and rise;-
‘Tis He! I follow him!

-- George MacDonald (1825-1905), Scots minister, poet, fairy tale writer.

Scripture Reference: Mark 10:46-52, Proper 25 B

Spit and dirt, said the blind man

when he left Christ’s side
himself no more a blind man
since Christ gave him sight.

Men who looked like trees
the first sight he saw.
Only a former blind man
could see us as we are

recognize how rare
specify how far
apart our being
and our seeming are.

What could he do but stare,
blink away the spit and dirt,
watch Christ wipe his hands
on his blinding white shirt?

-- Angela Alaimo O'Donnell, in The Christian Century, 2015

Scripture reference: Mark 10:46-52, Proper 25B

The Man No Longer Blind: Art for Lent 4A

by Ann Lukesh

Ethiopian icon

Greek icon

Modern icon

artist unknown

Russian icon

Modern icon, artist unknown

Mosaic

By Sadao Watanabe, modern Japanese printmaker

Relevant scripture: John 9:1-41

Look!

As we learned how to read, were we 
beginning to forget to look, 
our young eyes caught in tangles of print 
so that imagination was choked? Were we 
trapped at that remove from ourselves? 

Or did we begin to see a new way, with eyes 
that widened in the amazement of reverie, 
memory, invention? As we peered 
between the words, could we make out 
shapes and colors beyond them?

What did our inside eyes make of 
the black marks on creamy paper, on onionskin? 
A dream of angels turned real, perhaps. 
A wooden boat on a lake. Three small loaves 
fragmented to fill all those empty mouths 

and baskets. Or this: a blind man 
opening his eyes so that the first face he sees -
a vision, surely - is Christ's, spittle 
still shining on the quick fingers, 
his mouth saying urgently, Look! 

—Luci Shaw (1928- ) from Accompanied by Angels: Poems of the Incarnation

Ojibway Prayer

Grandfather,

Sacred One,

teach us love, compassion, and honor

that we may heal the earth

and heal each other.

--Ojibway Prayer

The Skylight

You were the one for skylights. I opposed 
Cutting into the seasoned tongue-and-groove 
Of pitch pine. I liked it low and closed, 
Its claustrophobic, nest-up-in-the-roof 
Effect. I liked the snuff-dry feeling, 
The perfect, trunk-lid fit of the old ceiling. 
Under there, it was all hutch and hatch. 
The blue slates kept the heat like midnight thatch. 
But when the slates came off, extravagant 
Sky entered and held surprise wide open. 
For days I felt like an inhabitant 
Of that house where the man sick of the palsy 
Was lowered through the roof, had his sins forgiven, 
Was healed, took up his bed and walked away.

—Seamus Heaney (1939 - 2013), Nobel prize-winning Irish poet and translator, from Seeing Things: Poems, 1991

Scripture reference: Luke 5:17-39

Keeping Quiet

Now we will count to twelve 
and we will all keep still. 

 For once on the face of the earth, 
let’s not speak in any language; 
let’s stop for one second, 
and not move our arms so much. 

 It would be an exotic moment 
without rush, without engines; 
we would all be together 
in a sudden strangeness. 

Fisherman in the cold sea 
would not harm whales 
and the man gathering salt 
would look at his hurt hands. 

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire, 
victories with no survivors, 
would put on clean clothes 
and walk about with their brothers 
in the shade, doing nothing. 

What I want should not be confused 
with total inactivity. 
Life is what it is about; 
I want no truck with death. 

If we were not so single-minded 
about keeping our lives moving, 
and for once could do nothing, 
perhaps a huge silence 
might interrupt this sadness 
of never understanding ourselves 
and of threatening ourselves with death. 
Perhaps the earth can teach us 
as when everything seems dead 
and later proves to be alive. 

Now I’ll count up to twelve 
and you keep quiet and I will go.

--Pablo Neruda (Ricardo Eliécer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto) (1904-1973), Chilean poet, politician, and diplomat

Talking to Grief

Ah, grief, I should not treat you 
like a homeless dog 
who comes to the back door 
for a crust, for a meatless bone. 
I should trust you. 

 I should coax you 
into the house and give you 
your own corner,
 a worn mat to lie on, 
your own water dish. 

You think I don’t know you’ve been living
 under my porch. 
You long for your real place to be readied 
before winter comes. You need 
your name, 
your collar and tag. You need 
the right to warn off intruders, 
to consider my house your own 
and me your person 
and yourself 
my own dog. 

--Denise Levertov (1923-1997), Anglo-American poet, from Poems 1972-1982.

Mi Sheberakh

May the One who blessed our ancestors —
Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
Matriarchs Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah —
bless and heal the one who is ill:
________________ daughter of ________________ .
May the Holy Blessed One
overflow with compassion upon him/her,
to restore her,
to heal her,
to strengthen her,
to enliven her.
The One will send her, speedily,
a complete healing —
healing of the soul and healing of the body —
along with all the ill,
among the people of Israel and all humankind,
soon,
speedily,
without delay,
and let us all say:
Amen!

--traditional Jewish prayer of healing

Benjamin, Who Came From Who Knows Where

What shall I do?
When I pick up the broom
     he leaves the room.
When I fuss with kindling he
     runs for the yard.
Then he's back,
     and we hug for a long time.
In his low-to-the-ground chest
     I can hear his heart slowing down.
Then I rub his shoulders and
     kiss his feet
and findle his long hound ears.
     Benny, I say,
don't worry. I also know the way
     the old life haunts the new.

-- Mary Oliver (1935- ), American poet, from Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver, 2017, previously published in Dog Songs, 2013

Prayer Before Surgery

Loving One, we entrust _____ to your care this day: guide with wisdom the skills and hands of the medical people who minister in your Name, and grant that every cause of illness be removed, that she may be restored to soundness of health and learn to live in more perfect harmony with you and those around her.
Through Jesus Christ. AMEN

--from Catholic Online

Prayer in Infirmity

O most mighty and most merciful God,
who, though thou have taken me off my feet,
hast not taken me off my foundation, which is thyself;
who, though thou have removed me from that upright form
in which I could stand and see thy throne, the heavens,
yet hast not removed from me that light
by which I can lie and see myself;
who, though thou have weakened my bodily knees,
that they cannot bow to thee,
hast left me the knees of my heart,
which are bowed unto thee evermore;
as thou hast made this bed thine altar,
make me thy sacrifice,
and as thou makest thy Son Jesus Christ the priest,
so make me his deacon,
to minister to him
in a cheerful surrender of my body and soul to thy pleasure,
by his hands.

-- John Donne (1572-1631), English priest, essayist, and poet, from Devotions Upon Divergent Occasions, III, (1624)

Prayer for the Sick

Heavenly Father, whose blessed Son our Lord took upon himself our infirmities and had compassion upon all sick and suffering: Hear our prayer for all who suffer in body or mind or spirit; and especially we pray for 

​______

. Grant to 

​her/him

 relief from pain, strength in 

​her/his

 weakness, light in 

​her/his

 darkness and, if it shall please you, restoration to health. Enable 

​her/him

 now to trust you though your way is hidden from their sight; and let 

​her/him

 know

​ that peace which is the gift of your Holt Spirit. Amen.

--from Prayers for All Occasions, by Forward Movement

My Thankful Heart with Glorying Tongue

My thankfull heart with glorying Tongue
Shall celebrate Thy name,
Who hath restor’d, redeem’d, recur’d
From sickness, death, and Pain.

I cry’d thou seem’st to make some stay,
I sought more earnestly;
And in due time thou succour’st me
And sent’st me help from High.

Lord, whilst my fleeting time shall last,
Thy Goodness let me Tell.
And new Experience I have gain’d,
My future Doubts repell.

An humble, faitefull life, O Lord,
For ever let me walk;
Let my obedience testefye,
My Praise lies not in Talk.

Accept, O Lord, my simple mite,
For more I cannot give;
What Thou bestow’st I shall restore,
For of thine Alms I live.

--Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672), early colonial Puritan poet, 1661

A rainbow on the floor of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.