Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children
In today’s Gospel we see Jesus healing a man with a withered hand. This encounter takes place in the Synagogue with religious leaders, the Pharisees, closely observing and critiquing. Jesus is both angry and grieved by these men of God and their posture toward him and the man in need. Jesus’ emotional response to the situation moves me deeply. Let us ask the Lord to heal our hardened hearts so that they might become softer, more pliable, and more profoundly receptive to the Lord.
It seems from Jesus’ encounter with the Pharisees that he seeks to elicit a merciful response from them toward the man with the withered hand. They remain silent. Then we read, “Looking around at them with anger and grieved at their hardness of heart, Jesus said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand.’ He stretched it out and his hand was restored.” I’m drawn like a magnet to the phrase, “grieved at their hardness of heart . . .” Jesus felt grief; he was moved with compassion and sorrow for this individual who needed healing, and he was grieved that the religious leaders were not similarly moved.
“. . . grieved at their hardness of heart . . .” God places us daily in the same position as the Pharisees. God brings people into our lives and across our paths who need mercy. As Jesus looks at us and peers intently into our hearts, what does he find? What does he feel? Do I have a hardened heart that grieves the Lord? I might pause and consider that possibility.
When our hearts are hard, they’re like the rocky soil that Jesus talks about in his parable (Matt. 13:5; Mark 4:5). Not much moisture can permeate rocky soil, and good seed finds barrier after barrier to its penetration. When the soil of our heart is soft, it’s permeable to the Holy Spirit. When our hearts are pliable, they’re like soft clay that God the Potter can shape and mold according to his plans and purpose. An unhardened heart is receptive to the Word of God and eager to put it into practice. When I think that I might grieve the Lord by my hardened heart, I feel deep remorse. I don’t ever want Jesus to look at me and feel grief!
I would submit that each of us has some degree of hardness in our hearts. Most likely there are calloused parts of my heart, “barnacles” on my heart, areas of calcification, sections that have been seared or corroded by sin and selfishness. We all need healing so that we can be perfected in love and approach our hurting neighbor with truer compassion and mercy. I recently read Bishop Robert Barron comment, “The Gospels are filled with accounts of Jesus’ healing encounters with those whose spiritual energies are unable to flow. Much of Jesus’ ministry consisted in teaching people how to see (the kingdom of God), how to hear (the voice of the Spirit), how to walk (overcoming the paralysis of the heart), and how to be free of themselves (so as to discover God).” I resonate with that imagery of heart paralysis. That’s another way to picture a heart hardened by sin, darkened by lack of understanding, frozen in fear. In its rigidity, a paralyzed heart is unable to move, it’s lost its connection to its Head.
Today, may each of us consider the condition of our hearts. If an honest searching and examination reveals hardness or paralysis, let us run to Jesus our Healer. Just as he was quick to heal the man with the withered hand, so too does our Lord desire to save us, heal us, from whatever it is that is disordered or diseased. Let us ask God’s forgiveness for the times we have hardened our hearts toward someone in need of mercy. Let us thank God in advance for the “heart surgery” that he is sure to perform on us when we come to him in faith, meekness, and humility. Glory, honor, praise, and thanksgiving be to our loving and merciful Healer!
I’ll see you in the Eucharist,
Elizabeth Wells