There is a scene in the recent film, BIRDMAN, where two of the characters engage in a game of truth or dare on a building rooftop in midtown Manhattan. Throughout the course of the dialogue, one of the characters chooses “truth” over “dare” without exception. In the end, it appears that there may be little difference between the two options.
In the gospel today (Mark 3: 1-6), we have a familiar setting where Jesus heals someone on the Sabbath. As Jesus enters the synagogue, somewhat of a “game” of truth or dare commences. First, Jesus immediately notices the man with a withered hand. Then we see the Pharisees along the sidelines watching and daring Jesus to oppose the “law” of keeping the Sabbath free from “work.” They are looking for a chance to trip him up, so that they can be fortified in the rigidity of their righteousness, and ultimately do away with this Jesus entirely. You can almost envision them backed into a corner of the synagogue, almost like a fixture of judgment.
Back to the man with the withered hand… It may very well have been the case that the man was an outcast because of his condition, as were most in that society, wherein illness and malady signified sin and even retribution for such. However, the actual withered hand itself could be viewed as a deeper symbol of what may be occurring in the gospel passage. I imagine that a withered hand would be drawn in, perhaps atrophied, very limited in function, and quite rigid. Without a medical diagnosis, one could surmise a powerful counterforce preventing the hand from being enlivened so that it could relax enough to stretch and extend.
The fixed and rigid posture of the man’s extremity seems to curiously align with the Pharisees unrelenting stance. This alignment is more a malign-ancy. And so the truth or dare goes. Jesus accepts the challenge, taking both options of truth and dare, calls the man with the withered hand front and center, and asks the onlookers whether the Sabbath should be life-giving or destructive (aligning or maligning). The silent response, we hear in the Gospel, both saddens and angers Jesus at the same time. Then we hear it, “Stretch out your hand!” The man did so and he was cured.
How often do we set each other up, posed for the fall that will elicit our certainty in judgment? How do we allow our attitudes and fixed “positions” to malign the opportunity for “reaching out” beyond ourselves, extending toward others? How many times do we place a checkmark next to the confirmed expectation of failure in others and walk away self-satisfied in our righteousness?
We all have withered hands that need the healing mercy of Jesus to enliven us so that we can dare to stretch out and do the same for others. The opportunity is always there, if we could just see it? Would that we could seek the cure in the recognition of God present in each of us!
Peace,
Thomas