This morning during the homily it struck me: I know this story, but I feel like I'm learning it again. Today was the Sunday of the Paralytic. The story of Jesus meeting the man at the Pools of Bethesda, asking if he wants to be healed, and restoring his legs under him so that he can get up and walk home. I've known this story since Kindergarten, I've been to Bethesda, and have even translated it from the Greek. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's not the first time I've heard this miracle of Christ retold, preached on, and/or applied to daily life. Today it was like hearing this story for the first time again.
I'm such a newbie, and I'm actually really comfortable with that. I have to admit that I don't know what I'm doing! It's so bizarre to be okay with that. I'm not the type of person who is just fine with not know what's going on, having all the answers, or teaching (read: telling other people what to do). I'm finding that putting myself in the position of learner (not teacher) is both spiritually and psychologically beneficial. Spiritually, I'm learning what it means to be childlike. Psychologically, I'm finding healing in the beauty and life changing experience of the Divine Liturgy.
My previous experience in church didn't allow me to be a learner. I had to be the teacher. I had to have the answers to hard questions: I was a minister of the Gospel after-all. It led to a lot of pride and judgmentalism. I was in a position to see and experience everyone's brokenness and compare it to my own comparative wholeness. This is the lie I told myself and heard every day for three years. I'm finding that, as I sit on the floor of our tiny mission church, that I am too separated from what it means to be a disciple of Christ. I am beginning to realize that I'm such a baby in the Faith. Praise God for my parents, pastors, mentors, teachers, and others who have patiently raised me to this point; but it's time to move beyond milk toast and date syrup. I need to eat meat--not just ground chuck (easy to chew and digest), but steak.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm contented. I realize that I don't have all (or any) answers. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what's happening to me, but I pray that all of this means that God is at work in my life and the life of my family. Pray for us.