Author: ramez

Christ is Our Man

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Daniel Fanous

John 5:1-18

“When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he already had been in that condition a long time, He said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” (John 5:6)

Christ stood there observing the paralytic man. He observed his helplessness, his condition, his loneliness. Therefore, He approaches him and says, “Do you want to be made well?” This is one of the healing miracles in the gospel of John where Christ takes the initiative. He doesn’t wait to be asked.

The man responds, “I have no man to put me in the water.” St John Chrysostom contemplates on this says, “What can be more pitiable than these words? What more sad than these circumstances? Do you see a heart crushed through long sickness? Do you see all violence subdued?”

This paralytic man has no one. He doesn’t have a single person to help him; no friends or family. He stands on the edge of the pool knowing that if he enters when the angel stirs the pool, he will be made well. We don’t know how long he was by the pool but we know that he had been a paralytic for 38 years.

He was surrounded by a multitude of people, many that could have been touching him, yet he had no one. He belonged to no one. It was likely his own family abandoned him, otherwise they would have waited beside him and took him down to the water. If he was paralytic for 38 years, it was probably a congenital disease and thus, rejected from a young age.

Truly when he says, “I have no man,” it was a reflection of the 38 years he spent alone. Fr. Alexander Schmemann contemplates saying;

“This truly is the cry of someone who has come to know the terrible power of human selfishness, narcissism. Every man for himself. Looking out for number one. All of them, all that great multitude of blind, sick, paralyzed, are all “waiting for the troubling of the waters,” in other words, waiting for help, concern, healing, comfort. But…each waits by himself, for himself. And when the waters are troubled, each throws himself forward and forgets about the others… From the gospel’s point of view, this pool is of course an image of the world, an image of human society, a symbol of the very organization of human consciousness.

But even when someone has apparently overcome personal selfishness, he is still held prisoner by the category “his.” He may have overcome bondage to himself as an individual, but then it is “his” family, and for “his” family, since “charity begins at home.” If not family, then “his” ethnic group or country. If not this, then “his” social class, “his” political party. His, always his! And this “his” is invariably opposed to someone else’s, which by definition becomes alien and hostile. We’re told that this is how the world works, what can you do? But is this really true, is this really the ultimate, objective, and scientific truth about the person and human life?

Listening to these words, “I have no man,” is a cry of a feeling of everyone looking to themselves, or their own family, or their own friends. One thing I have noticed about this current crisis is that people look to themselves. People are concerned over amenities and supplies for themselves or their own home, family, businesses. People are hoarding and barricading themselves, creating borders between them and everyone else. Even nations are looking out for only their own.

In almost every phone call, every confession, every thought, the focus is on ourselves and our own. This is understandable because the nature of this disease is contact, we want to avoid touching others. We are fearful to protect our own. This is also a challenge for us, a chance to understand the words, “I have no man.” For each of us is concerned for our own – our own family, our own friends, and not anyone else.

He cries out, “I have no man,” and yet Christ saw him. We read, “He observed him” – He thought about him, He wondered about him. For 38 years no one saw him, and maybe just as remarkable; “I have no man.” In Greek, “I have no Anthropos,” which translates, “I have no human being.” No one around him acted as a human being. Each looked to themselves or their own.

These words are the exact same words Pontius Pilate when he presents Jesus before the people. He puts Christ before them and says, “Behold, the man;” “the Anthropos.” Christ is the One True Human Being. He is the One that sees beyond Himself. He is the One Man that sees beyond His own. None of us – just as no one around the paralytic was a human being – each of us sees ourselves or at best, our own. But Christ is that Man that sees beyond Himself. He sees him, and He is the Man for the paralytic.

He says to him, “I am your Man, I live, I breath, I move and have become flesh for you. You are my people, you are my concern. You have no one and yet you have Me.”

Christ enters his suffering and bears his suffering. He not only sees him but He is present with him. As followers of Christ – Christians – we are called to become human beings to the world that cries out, “I have no man.”

St Dionyius, bishop of Alexandria in 250-260 AD, wrote of an epidemic that decimated the population after the war. 60 years before this there was outbreak of a disease that was most likely small pox that killed one third of the population. He writes of the pagans;

“At the first onset of the disease, they pushed the sufferers away and fled from their dearest, throwing them into the roads before they were dead and treating unburied corpses as dirt, hoping thereby to avert the spread and contagion of the fatal disease; but do what they might, they found it difficult to escape.”

He contrasts, “Most of our brother-Christians showed unbounded love and loyalty, never sparing themselves and thinking only of one another. Heedless of the danger, they took charge of the sick, attending to their every need and ministering to them in Christ, and with them departed this life serenely happy; Many, in nursing and curing others, transferred their death to themselves and died in their stead. The best of our brothers lost their lives in this manner, a number of presbyters, deacons, and laymen winning high commendation, so that death in this form, the result of great piety and strong faith, seems in every way the equal of martyrdom.”

The focus was not on how unfair this epidemic was, no on the lost family, or lost business. Their focus was the chance to give themselves to those around them. Like Christ, we observe and see others. Like Christ, we are there for those that are not our own, especially for those that cry out, “I have no man.”

One historian contemplates on this event and infers that this was the reason that many Romans became Christian; not because of miracles, preaching or political influence, but the response of the Christians to those in need. The irresistible love for the world.

This is very hard for us all, especially when caring for others may mean that we contract the disease. While we should not be reckless concerning these things, our eyes should always be on others. When shopping, who are we buying food for? Why not our elderly neighbour?

As things become worse, we don’t further barricade ourselves. We become more radical in caring for others. St Anthony the Great says, “Our life and our death is with our neighbour. If we gain our brother, we have gained God, but if we scandalise our brother, we have sinned against Christ.” How we treat our neighbours is our life and death. This discerns Christians from non-Christians. Our concern, our care and love for those that are not our own. Let us look beyond ourselves, our own cares, our own families, our own churches even.

Let us be Christ to those that say, “I have no man,” see them, love them, just as Christ did. Even in the depths of our suffering, Christ is that Man and we should likewise be that man for others.