There is no possible way to avoid the bruises and wounds that are received in life. They begin at our very birth and continue until death. Bruises and scrapes certainly hurt and are troublesome but we move on despite them. Wounds, however, are another matter and demand attention. Sometimes a wound feels so dark, deep and ponderous that it becomes a black hole from which nothing can escape. It is unbearable. No light can escape from the prison of injury. Our entire lives seem to be sucked in and defined by the wound. Any joy or happiness that came before seem distant and remote, almost as if they never happened at all. We have been stripped of our defenses exposing our vulnerability and mortality. The trauma has overcome us.
I am reminded of a version of The Fisher King when I think of woundedness. This tale is of Arthur who receives what would have been a mortal wound at the hand of The Black Knight. He is carried to an inner chamber where it is expected that he would die. The magical relationship that Arthur has with Merlin, however, makes death impossible. He lingers on and on as the wound drains and festers in horrible fashion. Merlin appears and informs Arthur that he can only be healed by water being poured from the Holy Grail (the cup that Jesus used at The Last Supper) over the affected area, Arthur sends his knights to the four corners of the world in search of the Grail. Each returns empty handed despite the most fervent efforts. One day the king's cook is preparing dinner for Arthur and decides that he just cannot bear to carry the meal to him. He is sickened by the grotesque, odorous wound. He snatches a young boy who he has taken in as an apprentice and sends him with the meal to Arthur. The boy approaches the king, unsure that he has found the right person at all. Arthur groans, "What is your business here boy?" to which he replies, "I have come to bring food to the king. Do you know where I might find him?" "I am your king" says Arthur. The boy looks doubtfully stating that he doesn't look much like a king. Arthur goes on to tell him about the battle, the wound, the magic and the Grail. The boy asks how one might even recognize such a cup and the king describes it as an ancient, simple wooden vessel made by a carpenter. Perhaps it was rather rough-hewn but beautiful to behold. None of his knights could find it and Arthur was ready to give up hope. The boy summoned all of his courage and with wide eyes said, "I have seen such a cup!" The king responds in disbelief asking where it might be. The boy tells him that it is just behind the curtain a few feet from the place where Arthur lay. He confesses that he sometimes hid behind the curtain and peeked at the curious patient with the horrible gash not knowing he was the king. Arthur orders him to retrieve it. The boy fills it with water which is poured over the wound. The miraculous healing is instantaneous. The king is saved, he adopts the boy, and...well you know.
It is difficult to understand that the wounds we receive throughout our lives are the very source of our strength, character and identity. This is the lesson of Good Friday. The healing that happens as we endure and overcome them makes us aware of the part of ourselves that is invulnerable to being wounded. We transcend the wounding and our wholeness becomes realized. Like Arthur we are led to the realization that the healing power was always within our grasp. It cannot be obtained through will or force but only through childlike trust. Then when we ask for help it is given. Like Jesus, and with Jesus, we will transcend it all.
