Jesus, help me lose five pounds. (And other things I shouldn't pray for.)

Like every morning, I had pulled up the daily readings for my prayer time. It was Monday of the thirty-third week in ordinary time. Since we’re nearing the end of the Catholic year (Advent starts December 1), it was not a surprise to see a reading from Revelation, “Realize how far you have fallen. Repent, and do the works you did at first.“ Noted. The Psalm was a familiar one, with a similar message, “For the LORD watches over the way of the just, but the way of the wicked vanishes.” Check.

Then, there was the Gospel.

Luke 18:35-43 tells the story of the healing of a blind beggar. In Luke he’s not named, but in Mark he’s known as Bartimaeus. Anyway, Jesus and a crowd were going by the blind man, and when he heard it was Jesus he started shouting out: Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me! They told him to shut up but he kept hollering louder for Jesus to have pity on him. “Then Jesus stopped…” and asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”

I’ve had this reading many times, and I always think about why Jesus asked him what he wanted—it seems pretty obvious to me. But this time I was struck by the fact that when the blind man started shouting he was just asking for pity. But when asked directly what he wanted Jesus to do for him, he got a lot more specific.

So I thought: okay maybe I just haven’t been asking Jesus very specifically for what I want. Okay, Jesus here goes: Lord, please let me lose five pounds before Thanksgiving.

Of course, like so many times before, the Holy Spirit bopped me upside the head. What are you thinking, King? You’re seriously going to put a few extra pounds in the same category as blindness?

I have a complicated relationship with food, let’s get that out of the way now. And I have been actively working on healing that relationship, which I am proud of. But, without fail, mid-November these thoughts start creeping back in. It’s not just Thanksgiving (although it is a big one because, you know, it’s a holiday pretty much devoted to eating lots of food), it could be the last couple of weeks before a vacation, a month before a wedding we are going to attend, or really any big life event where people will see me, I start having invasive thoughts about “needing” to lose a few pounds. It becomes a kind of topic of conversation between me and God in my prayer time and usually, I get the gentle smackdown like I did today.

The truth is, it’s pretty easy for me to put myself into the healing stories in Scripture in light of my own (mostly superficial) struggles. I am often asking Jesus how he could possibly sleep in the back of my boat that is clearly going under because of how disorganized my garage is. How could I sit peacefully at his feet when I am way behind on reporting for work. Curing lepers is great, so maybe you could also cure these fine lines and wrinkles? Maybe it’s just me.

So back to the weight loss ask. The reason I think the Holy Spirit showed up (maybe my Guardian Angel and my patron St. Anthony, were also ganging up) was to ask me: does your weight separate you from community or prevent you from practicing your faith? Because that was what was happening with Bartimaeus. It wasn’t just a self image problem he had. Blindness meant destitution, a lack of freedom, and complete separation from society.

My spiritual squad was also there asking me to think about how Bartimaeus demonstrated his faith, which is what Jesus said saved him. He demonstrated it by persistently, almost obnoxiously shouting out to Jesus, while the crowd was telling him to shut the heck up.

What the Bartimeaus story has to teach me is a lot. I often fall into the trap of asking God to “solve” my problems, instead of asking for healing in ways that really matter. Bartimaeus’s faith wasn’t focused on what others thought of him or any superficial desires but on his desperate need for Jesus to restore him fully.

This is a much better prayer going into Thanksgiving week.

Lord, please let me see

where I can be of help to people who need it

who needs my prayers or my presence

what I can do to best offer hospitality and service to my family

how to see you in everyone around me

and how to follow you as your disciple.

I pray that Jesus would say, “Have sight; your faith has saved you.”