Some of the people and comments refered to in this post can be found at How To Be An Inspiration
You will probably have surmised by now
that I have a certain degree of cynicism regarding the whole
spiritual healing malarkey. (A hint may be me using words like
malarkey.) Why, you may be wondering, have I dedicated some 5000
words to the subject?
A few weeks ago I received an email
from Barefoot Brian telling of an experience he had had at a meeting
in Dudley (in the UK). Brian had been at a meeting led by speaker
Marc Dupont, a guy who had been heavily involved with the whole
Toronto Blessing phenomena of a few years back. During the course of
the meeting Brian felt strongly led to pray for me and get a piece of
cloth blessed for me with healing in mind. As it happened Brian had a
clean hanky on him and after a bit of 'should he, shouldn't he`, he
succeeded in tracking down Marc Dupont and (in Brian's telling)
virtually forced the poor, exhausted man to pray over it. He wrote to
ask me if I would receive this 'holy hanky` in the spirit it was
intended, and asked “Do you want to be healed?”
As you might imagine this left me with
something of a dilemma. You now know my history (or some of it) with
such things and the idea of a 'prayer handkerchief`, particularly the
light of the Duane Falcello monologue, made me smile. However, I like
and respect Brian. I'm known him for 30 years, from a time when we
both helped run Christian youth camps at Hill House in Somerset.
Although on the charismatic/evangelical wing of the church, Brian
falls well within the bell-curve of normality for Christians as a
whole, and is someone whose judgement I'd trust. So first, let's
answer the question he asked: do I want to be healed?
Yes. Not because I don't value who I
am, or appreciate how my disability has shaped my personality and
what I've done and achieved in my life. I don't wish I'd never been
born with Muscular Dystrophy because without it I would never have
done the things I've done, met the people I've met, or had the
children I've had. Dystrophy has been both a curse and a blessing for
me But if someone (God?) could snap their cosmic fingers and relieve
me of its burden, restoring the strength to my limbs, I'd forsake the
advantages of a Blue Badge in a second. I'm tired of being tired,
tired of aching and tired of feeling helpless to stop the further
slide in my condition. So yes, I'd like very much to be healed. That
said...
Do I believe God can heal me? Short
answer: no. Longer answer: may be, it depends what you mean by
healed.
Do I believe that an entity capable of
creating a universe, establishing the laws of physics so that M=MC2,
micro-manages his creation to such an extent that he would physically
alter my DNA to bring about a cure for a congenital condition? And
that if he did, he would focus his attention on me, rather than the
countless other suffering souls in his creation? Would a supreme
being, who could with a mere thought banish the spectre of, say, AIDS
from the planet by making a minute alteration to a simple virus,
rather turn his attention on me, a relatively wealthy (compared to
many on this planet) individual. What kind of ego would I need to
believe that? But supposing he did. Suppose this omniscient being
healed me, would that be a sign of love or a slap in the face for the
countless millions of faithful Christians who, through out the ages,
prayed for similar blessings and not been heard? Why me and not them?
Would God be so arbitrary?
I have a friend, Karen, who I've
mentioned in this blog before, and to whom I owe a great debt, for it
was she who introduced me to Polly, all those years ago. Karen, and
her husband Gareth, have three children, the youngest, Tristan, was
born within a couple of weeks of my eldest, Matty. Tristan, for no
apparent reason, was born devastatingly handicapped. At nearly 9
years old he can not feed himself, nor sit unsupported. He will never
walk and will forever be utterly dependent on those who love him.
Fortunately there are many who do. Tristan is a beautiful boy. He has
black hair and amazing eyes with lashes to die for. He sits engrossed
for hours with something as simple as a tiny red plastic tennis
racket. When I last saw him he was entranced with the lights on the
controller of my wheelchair, gurgling with happiness when I made them
flash. How could I expect God to heal me and not Tristan? And if he
does, then what about my brother, or Blake or Dani or many others
reading this? Why should God heal one but leave others untouched?
Surely if God has the power to heal then no amount of theological
sophistry can justify him healing me over Tristan, hankies not
withstanding.
So Brian has wasted his time and his
neatly folded square of cotton. Or has he? The first consequence of
Brian's act of faith has been this series of posts, and the thousands
of people who have read them and been inspired to consider their
position on the subject. I, myself, have been forced to think about
things I'd long ago put aside. What about the testimony of those
with tales of divine healing, what am I to make of those? Rock God's
mothers prayer for the healing of a blind friend? Tigger35's
experience with autism? And many others known to us individually. The
problem, as I see it, is that anecdotal evidence is not truly
evidence, however sincere the source. Many of us have heard stories
of miraculous healing that defy rational explanation often from
impeccable sources. Unfortunately none of them are absolutely
verifiable. I've looked for a verifiable account of a miracle healing
of a genetic condition like Muscular Dystrophy, believe me, I've
looked. It has NEVER happened. If you show me one accredited account,
I'll show you a thousand doctors and scientists who doubt it.
But who is to say God has to act in a
supernatural manner? If not for the 'miracle' of Penicillin and its
anti-bacterial descendants I would long ago have
died of pneumonia. Even as I write this I am looking at
technological solutions to some of the problems I'm having. The
probability is that with the right help my life can be greatly
enhanced. Brian and his hanky have directly inspired me to talk
openly and frankly about spiritual matters both online and in real
life. I've had to confront some uncomfortable truths regarding my
relationship with a deity who it sometimes seems to have abandoned
me. (Or me him. We're still arguing about the details.)
I have just learned that
Brian himself has very recently gone through a serious medical
emergency requiring your actual brain surgery. He reports that he is
well on the mend I'm glad to say. Did God heal Brian? Well he didn't
wag his celestial finger and dissolve the subdural haematoma. Rather
Brian was able to access the more statistically reliable NHS and have
high quality non-supernatural treatment. Does this mean God was
nowhere in this situation? Of course not. Brian, I imagine, credits
God with putting all the, doctors, nurses, CT scan operators, and so
on in place. And I can not dismiss this as a possibility. It truly is
a matter of faith.
By now all my Christian
friends, of whom I have many, are sadly rubbing my name out of the
Book of Life. But wait! Put away your metaphorical erasures and read
on.
I can not quite write God
out of my life for one reason. I know his people. For 35 years the
church has been part of my life. And despite the odd Morris and
strange person who insists on accosting me in public and laying hands
on me, they are for the greatest part, wonderful people. Many of the
best, most exciting things I've done in my life have been done with,
or facilitated by, my brothers and sisters in the church. When I have
been at my lowest or sickest, alongside my immediate family, it is my
Church family that has been with me. At a time when I hovered between
life and death I know that thousands of Christians held me in their
thoughts and prayers. The church has often employed me, frequently to
poke gentle fun at its beliefs and rituals. And even when the
logistics have been massively complicated by inviting me a long,
Christian organisations have still taken me to every corner of the
country, from Shetland to the Channel Islands.
While I make no claim that
Christians have a monopoly on caring, it is my experience that those
I know are among the kindest and must loving people you could wish to
meet. If the church is the body of Christ then it is my opinion that
Christ is worth knowing. While I have reservations about some kind
divine plan, that one day will be revealed to me, I make no pretence
to understand the mind of God. May be there is a plan. It seems
unlikely on the evidence I've observed and experienced but if there
is it had better be one heck of a good one to justify all that has
gone on. But I'll let others worry about that.
So, to Brian and all my
Christian friends, thank you. Thank you for praying and for caring.
The very fact you do so gives me hope and lightens the load. And for
those reading who take no comfort in divine providence, all I can
suggest is that you, like me, look to your friends, your neighbours
and your families for that divine spark.
In the meantime, the hanky
is in my medicine box. Make of that what you will.
That's the end of this
series of posts. Thank you for reading. Comments and discussion
welcome. Good bye and keep warm.
