The prophet Isaiah startles us with the image of a man, a servant of God, who is so disfigured that he doesn’t even look human. Absolutely lacking any beauty or charm to win our hearts, we avert our gaze rather than look him, who seems so “accustomed to sorrow and acquainted with grief.”
I know another such man. He was already acquainted with the bitterness of life in impoverished Haiti, before a witchdoctor completely disfigured him by pouring boiling lye on his head, as a cure for epilepsy.
Just yesterday, Daniel begged me to let him leave the poor house that serves as a makeshift hospital, so he could go home. This pitiful man, blind from searing acids, his head crowned with open wounds, wants to go “home”- where the filth, violence, heat and lack of even clean water to wash his sores will certainly spell his death. But home is always home, and has its soothing lure.
Daniel told me that he was being assailed by demons at night, and was sure that if he stayed any longer he would either lose his mind or die. Although he certainly needs medicine to calm him and therapy for his twisted heart, Daniel’s image of demons alerts us to his profound spiritual crisis. The meaning of his life has been mercilessly disfigured. He was betrayed by a “healer”. His precious life, his dreams, his hopes and even the face that mirrors his soul were all fuel for fiery lava. Now he gropes in darkness to understand what life means, and who God is, when wickedness has made you a monster. He strives to know, in the words of Thomas Merton, the Christ of burnt men.
Daniel searches deeply for answers while in the worse possible state of soul. Just as it is true that holiness is the “wholeness” of personal integrity (and this wholeness buffers us against dangerous spiritual forces), it is also true that disintegration and brokenness make us vulnerable and sensitive to the forces of evil. That is what makes the last temptation of Christ, and the present temptation of Daniel, unspeakable.
Daniel talks of demons during the holy days of Easter, the proclamation of the mystery that a Crucified Christ, who had descended even into the bowels of hell, is now gloriously alive. This truth is the very root of the Christian heart and must have practical and tangible meaning. Love will not, love can not, give up on Daniel. Not our love, nor the love of God.
We hope a cornea transplant will help Daniel’s remaining eye see the light of day. We hope skin grafts will take root on his naked skull. But mostly we pray that Daniel might have the same inner dialogue with the Risen Christ, that the Risen Christ had with his chosen ones. They had locked themselves in a room and groped in fear when He came to them, showed them His wounds transformed, and gave them the peace that surpasses all understanding.
Fr. Richard Frechette CP