Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Tag: healing

  • Tuesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

    Tuesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    In today’s Gospel, we have an awful lot of anguish. First is the anguish of Jairus, the synagogue official, whose daughter was near death when he reached out to Jesus. It becomes more distressing when, on the way to heal his daughter, they are confronted with the anguish of the hemorrhagic woman, who had been suffering for twelve years, at “the hands of many doctors,” who had apparently done nothing for her but take her money. Knowing that he had healed someone, he stopped to reach out to her so as to heal her spirit. All of which becomes even more distressing as they reach Jairus’s daughter, who has just died.

    But Jesus is the enemy of death and anguish, so he heals the hemorrhagic woman, he raises the daughter of Jairus with a word of command, and he teaches us the essential truth that faith is essential to healing. The author of the letter to the Hebrews addresses the anguish of sin, urging us to “rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us.” That anguish can be a particularly overwhelming one to overcome, but the author assures us that we will be successful if we remember to keep “our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith.”

    The starting point for us then, as we bring this Word to our daily life, is to name the anguish. In the silence of our hearts, in the quiet places of this Mass and of our day, let’s all agree to make space to address the anguish. Unaddressed anguish merely festers and makes us sick. When we name the anguish, we can bring it to Jesus, who says that we, all of us children of God, are “not dead but asleep” and commands us to rise, and be given something to eat, as we approach the Eucharist today.

    Whatever our anguish is today, let’s name it, bring it to God, and listen to Jesus say to us: “I say to you, arise!”

  • Thursday of the First Week in Ordinary Time

    Thursday of the First Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    My eldest niece is in graduate school now. But back when she was little, she knew how to wrap Uncle Patrick around her little finger. I remember one time when we were out at the mall, she said something like, “If you want, you can buy me a cookie.” It reminded me of the way the leper approached Jesus in today’s Gospel. And my niece found out that I did indeed want to buy her a cookie!

    You know, the most amazing thing about this miracle isn’t really the miracle itself. Sure, cleansing someone of leprosy is a big deal. But for me, the real miracle here surrounds those first three words the leper says to Jesus, “If you wish…” “If you wish, you can make me clean.” Isn’t it true that we so often wonder about God’s will for our lives? Especially when we’re going through something tragic, or chronically frustrating, we can wonder how this all fits into God’s plan for us. If God wishes, he can cleanse us, forgive us, heal us, turn our lives around. But sometimes we just aren’t sure what God wishes to do in our lives. Sometimes I think, we underestimate God’s concern for us.

    And here the poor leper learns the amazing news that healing is indeed God’s will for him. But not just the kind of healing that wipes out leprosy. Sure, that’s what everyone saw. But the real healing happened in that leper’s heart. He surely wondered if God cared about him at all, just as we so often do, and in Jesus’ healing words – “I do will it” – he found out that God cared for him greatly.

    Not all of us are going to have this kind of miraculous encounter with God. But we certainly all ask the question “what does God will for me?” at some point in our lives. As we come to the Eucharist today, perhaps we all can ask that sort of question. Reaching out to receive our Lord, may we pray “If you wish, you can feed me.” “If you wish, you can pour out your blood to wipe away my sins.” “If you wish, you can strengthen my faith.” “If you wish you can make me new.” “If you wish, you can take away my doubt.” “If you wish, you can heal my family.” “If you wish, you can heal our nation.”

    What does God wish to do in your life?

  • The Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    The Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Jesus’ ministry on earth was all about healing. Indeed, that’s what he came to do: to heal us, set things right, from the inside out, so that we would be able to enter the Kingdom. In today’s gospel, he heals a man who has been deaf and mute with the word of command: “Ephphatha!” – “Be opened!” I have talked about this kind of thing before. The healing is not here simply for the deaf and mute man. The healing he intends, the command, “Be opened!” is for those who were there with the man in the Decapolis, and for us too. Mark brings us this story in his Gospel because ephphatha is what Jesus is about. He is about healing, and opening up a way for those who have been at odds with God to be back in relationship with him. So whether the obstacle has been a physical illness or a spiritual one, he commands ephphatha, that the way be opened and the obstacle obliterated, and the illness of the broken one bound up and the way made straight for the person to be in communion with God.

    Saint James today invites us to take a look at the issue from another angle. Have we pre-judged people who are not like us when they come to the Church, or who come to us at any other time? Do we look down on those who don’t look like us, dress like us, don’t speak like us, or don’t act like us? Do these people have illness that needs to be healed? Or is it we that have the illness, being unable to see them as Christ does, as brothers and sisters and children of God? Racism, fear of others, and all kinds of stereotypes are such insidious illnesses in our society. We bring that illness, too, to our Lord: whatever the illness is today, whether it is ours or someone else’s, Jesus commands it: ephphatha, be opened, that nothing may be an obstacle to the love of God and the healing of Jesus Christ.

    Since the readings lead us to a place of healing, I want to take this opportunity to speak of one of the sacraments of healing, namely the Anointing of the Sick. I want to do that because I think it’s a sacrament that is misunderstood, one that we don’t think of much, until someone is near death, and that’s not exactly what the Anointing of the Sick is all about. In the days prior to Vatican II, that actually was the understanding of the Sacrament. It was called Extreme Unction, Latin for “Last Anointing.” But Vatican II restored the sacrament to a much earlier practice, in which the sacrament was intended for healing, and not just sending the dying person on their way to eternal life.

    The impetus for the sacrament of Anointing of the Sick comes from another passage in the letter of Saint James. It says: “Is anyone among you sick? He should summon the presbyters of the church, and they should pray over him and anoint (him) with oil in the name of the Lord, and the prayer of faith will save the sick person, and the Lord will raise him up. If he has committed any sins, he will be forgiven.” (James 5:14-15) The sacrament is about healing: physical, sure, but also spiritual. Having God’s presence in the sacrament with us in our time of illness is of great value – just ask anyone who’s been through it! I myself received the sacrament when I was in the hospital for my heart issues last year; even Father needs the ministry of the Church in time of need.

    So I’d like to identify a few times when it would be appropriate to have the Anointing of the Sick. The first is before surgery that is either life threatening itself, or is for the healing of some illness or injury. Very often people will call, and they might come to a daily Mass before their surgery or the weekend before their surgery, and we will anoint them after Mass. This is a wonderful time to receive the sacrament, because they’ve just been to Mass and have received the Eucharist. The combination of those sacraments is a great source of grace and healing.

    Another time someone might be anointed is if they’ve come to the hospital with a life-threatening illness or injury, perhaps even after an accident. Or perhaps a patient is hospitalized for an addiction or mental illness. Very often there’s a priest on call at the hospital who can do that, or if it’s one of the local hospitals here, we will be called to go over. Being anointed at that time of crisis can be a great source of peace to both the patient and their loved ones.

    Another time for the Anointing is when a patient is home bound, or after they’ve come home from having surgery and there is going to be a long time of rehabilitation. Then a priest might come to the person’s home, anoint them, and then we can arrange for a parishioner to come give them Holy Communion each week. We have a number of parishioners who help us with that ministry, and it keeps the patient connected to the parish and to the Lord during difficult days.

    The final time for the Anointing is the one that most people think of, and that is near death. At the time of death, we have what is known as the Last Rites. The Last Rites are a combination of three sacraments: the sacrament of Penance, the Anointing of the Sick, and Viaticum, which is Latin for “bread for the journey,” one’s last Communion. If at all possible, it’s good if the patient is well enough to participate in all three sacraments, but very often that’s not the case. Then we just do what we can of them and entrust them to God’s mercy.

    It’s important that we know about the illness so that we can care for the patient. These days, that means a family member or the patient themselves, must call us. Hospitals can’t do that any more, due to privacy laws. So it’s very important that we know, and know soon enough that we can respond. In a large parish like this, it can be hard for us to respond at the spur of the moment because of other things going on, but we do our best to get there as soon as we can. And if, unfortunately, a patient dies before the priest can get there, there are still prayers we can do. Sometimes we don’t know that the patient is going so quickly. But if your loved one is declining, please call as soon as you can and don’t wait until the last possible moment.

    Here at Saint Mary’s, we also have a periodic celebration of the Anointing of the Sick at our healing prayer service, which is held on the first Sunday of the month, after the 12:15pm Mass. We had that just last Sunday. There are exceptions for times when Easter or another solemnity interferes, but we will tell you about that when it happens. This is a great time for all those who are preparing for surgery, or have a chronic illness, or are going through some worrisome tests or procedures to have the healing of Jesus who wants to walk with us on our difficult journeys.

    The healing that comes about as the result of the Anointing of the Sick isn’t always physical. Indeed, sometimes the illness remains, or the patient passes. But even in those cases, there is healing. That healing may be the forgiveness of sins, or re-connection with loved ones, or a spiritual strengthening that helps the person get through the difficulty of illness or preparation for death. The healing that happens is always up to God, who wants what is best for us. But there is always some healing; in that we can trust.

    The healing work of Christ is what the Church is all about. Today, Jesus continues to work through the Church to bring healing to all those who need it. He cries out “Ephphatha” that we might all be opened up to his healing work and that every obstacle to relationship with him might be broken down.

  • The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    I often wonder how people get through the hard times of their lives if they don’t have faith. We can all probably think of a time (or several) in our lives when we were sorely tested, when our lives were turned upside-down, and, looking back, we can’t figure out how we lived through it except for the grace of our faith and the abiding presence of God. During the course of my priesthood, I have been present to a lot of people who were going through times like that: whether it be illness or death of a loved one, relationship struggles, job issues, or financial struggles, or a host of other maladies. Some of them had faith, and some of them didn’t. It was always inspirational to see how people with faith lived through their hard times, and very sad to see how many who didn’t have faith just broken when their lives stopped going well.

    That’s the experience that today’s Liturgy of the Word puts before us, I think. Let’s look at the context. In last week’s Gospel, Jesus has cured two people miraculously. He actually raised Jairus’s twelve-year-old daughter from the dead, and he cured the hemorrhagic woman, who had been suffering for twelve years. So both stories had occurrences of the number twelve, reminiscent of the twelve tribes of Abraham, and later the Twelve Apostles, both of which signify the outreach of God’s presence into the whole world. So those two miraculous healings last week reminded us that Jesus was healing the whole world.

    But this week, we see the exception. This week, Jesus is in his hometown, where he is unable to do much in the way of miracles except for a few minor healings. Why? Because the people lacked faith. And this is in stark contrast to last week’s healings where Jairus handed his daughter over to Jesus in faith, and the hemorrhagic woman had faith that just grasping on to the garments of Jesus would give her healing. Faith can be very healing, and a lack of it can be stifling, leading eventually to the destruction of life.

    We see that clearly in the first two readings today. First Ezekiel is told that the people he would be ministering to would not change, because they were obstinate. But at least they’d know a prophet had been among them. Contrast that with Saint Paul’s unyielding faith in the second reading to the Corinthian Church. Even though he begged the Lord three times to relieve him of whatever it was that was his thorn in the flesh, he would not stop believing in God’s goodness. Much has been said about what Saint Paul could possibly mean by this “thorn.” Was it an illness or infirmity? Was it a pattern of sin or at least a temptation that would not leave him alone? We don’t know for sure, but this “thorn” makes Saint Paul’s story all the more compelling for us who have to deal with our own “thorns” in our own lives. Saint Paul’s faith led him to be content with whatever weakness or hardship befell him, and he came to know that in his weakness, God could do more and thus make him stronger than he could be on his own. That assurance gives us hope of the same grace in our own struggles.

    We people of faith will be tested sometimes; that’s when the rubber hits the road for our faith. Knowing of God’s providence, we can be sure that he will lead us to whatever is best. And our faith can help us to make sense of the struggles and know God’s presence in the dark places of our lives. People of faith are tested by the storms and tempests of the world, but are never abandoned by our God. Never abandoned.

    Let’s pray with this notion today. Take a moment to quiet yourself, close your eyes if that works for you…

    Take a moment now to think of whatever thorn is in your side. Maybe it’s illness or infirmity, or a temptation that won’t go away, an uneasiness about something going on in your life, worry about yourself or a family member. Whatever that is, bring that to mind and tell Jesus about it. Yes, he knows your needs, but he wants to hear you say it and put it in his merciful hands…

    Now picture putting that need, that thorn, in Jesus’ hands. Give it up and stop holding on to it. Let go of whatever hold that thorn has on you…

    Take a moment now to pray to Jesus in your heart, using your own words. Tell him that you trust him to make of this thorn whatever he wants it to be. Tell him that you trust in his healing, and that you will stop holding on to the way you want it to work out. Ask him to take the burden from you and promise not to take it back…

    Repeat this after me: Jesus, I trust in you. Jesus, I give you my burdens. Jesus, I will accept healing in the way you want it for me. Jesus, I trust in you.

  • The Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    The Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    My absolute favorite line from this Gospel reading is, “Then he put them all out.” I can just imagine Jesus going into the house, encountering the mourners, seeing the lack of faith in all of them, and saying “Go on! Get outta here! I’ve got work to do!” Or maybe that’s just how I’d say it!

    It might be a funny little line, but I think it makes a significant point, and sums up the point made by the Liturgy of the Word we have for today. Faith is necessary in our relationship with God and in receiving God’s blessings and in living the life for which he has created us. Those incredulous mourners were symptomatic of a people who had abandoned hope of God’s interest in them. They were so abused by the scrupulous religious establishment, that they didn’t really even know God, nor did they believe that God cared about them. So all that was left for them was to mourn, because, as far as they knew, there was nothing for which to look forward. The only thing Jesus could do, then, was to put them out of the house, so that he could respond to the faith of Jairus, the synagogue official, the father of the girl, who had faith enough that he called Jesus to come heal her.

    That’s not so different from the situation with the woman who somewhat detained Jesus on the way to Jairus’s house. This poor woman had placed her faith in “many doctors,” who apparently did nothing but increase her suffering. Just an aside here, but as wonderful as health care is for the most part, as I get older I’m getting the significance of having to see “many doctors.” Two cardiologists, a sleep doctor, my primary care physician, and the list goes on and on. Maybe some of you can resonate with this too. Now this woman seems to have had a stirring of faith, or maybe it was even a last ditch effort, a “Hail Mary,” if you will, and that leads her to touch the garment of Jesus as he passes by. She makes an act of faith: “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” And in this humble act of faith, in which she undoubtedly hopes to go unnoticed, she finds that no act of faith is ever unnoticed by Our Lord. Even though the disciples laugh at him for wanting to know who in the pressing crowd touched him, Jesus, who surely already knew who it was, acknowledges this woman of faith and responds to that act of faith.

    “God did not make death,” as the wisdom author in our first reading tells us. And because he did not make death, he has given us faith as a remedy for its effects on our lives. Maybe we won’t be miraculously cured like the hemorrhagic woman, and maybe we won’t be raised from the dead like the daughter of Jairus. But we absolutely will experience resurrection and new life when we join ourselves to Christ who has triumphed over death. That experience requires faith, and we must make it our constant care to exercise that faith, live that faith, and to “put out” of our lives any negativity, any dependence on worldly remedies, anything, really, that interferes with that faith. Each of us must be absolutely willing to “put them all out” and react in faith to all that God wants to do in our lives. Because our lives depend on it. They really do.

  • Friday of the Seventh Week of Easter

    Friday of the Seventh Week of Easter

    Today’s readings

    “Do you love me more than these?”

    It’s a question that cuts to the heart.  Peter had just betrayed his friendship with Jesus and his commitment to the Gospel by denying his Lord not once, but three times: “I tell you, I do not know the man you are talking about.”  This is a poignant meeting of the two of them, the first time they have been alone together, since those words of betrayal were spoken.  And Jesus’ words to Peter in this moment are a mixture of comfort, challenge, and warning.

    So first, comfort.  And this might not looking comforting on the face of it.  Just as Peter had spoken words of betrayal three times, three times Jesus asks the question: “Peter, do you love me?”  Yes, the question cuts to the heart, but it is also comfort, because with each asking, Jesus is healing Peter from the inside out.  Healing never begins until the truth is spoken: “Yes, Lord, You know that I love You.”

    Then come words of challenge: “Feed my sheep.”  When we are forgiven or graced in any way, we, like Peter, are then challenged to do something about it.  Feed my sheep, follow me, give me your life, come to know my grace in a deeper way.  Never do we receive grace only for ourselves.  Grace is for us, but we are meant to grace others once we’ve received it. 

    And then words of warning: “when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.”  When we give ourselves over to God, that necessarily means that we might have to go in a direction we might not otherwise choose.  It necessarily means that we have to give up our own plans and follow God.  We have to let him take us where we do not want to go, so that we can be the ones we were always supposed to be.

    Jesus then summarizes all of it by saying “Follow me.”  No matter what we disciples have done in our past, no matter how many times we have messed up or in what ways, there is always forgiveness if we give ourselves over to our Savior and our friend.  If we follow him, there is mercy and grace and forgiveness – and challenge.  That’s the life of discipleship.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

  • Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent

    Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent

    Today’s readings

    “Do you want to be well?”

    That had to be a jarring question to the man at the waters of Bethesda. I wonder if he was thinking, “Of course I want to be well! Why do you think I’ve been lying here so long?” But it’s an important question for him to answer: Jesus can’t heal someone who has become entrenched in his or her own illness to the point that they just accept it. But he tells Jesus his plight, and accepts the command to rise and walk, and with that he is healed.

    In these Lenten days, the Elect among us – those preparing for the Easter Sacraments of initiation – are lying at the waters of Bethesda. Those waters are the waters of Baptism, which will be stirred up at the Easter Vigil. They will be taken down to the waters by their sponsors, and they will be baptized into the faith. What a glorious night that will be!

    In these Lenten days, we find ourselves lying at the waters of our own Bethesda, too (Bethesda means “House of Mercy). We find ourselves sick with sin, and needing the waters of Baptism to be stirred up in our own lives so that we can be made well, so that we can rise and walk. We are more than half way through Lent, and so it is time that we reflect on our sin and answer Jesus’ question, “Do you want to be well?” Because he stands ready to stir up the waters and command us to rise and walk. This is the time for a good Lenten confession if we haven’t made one yet. This Sunday we will have 15 priests to hear confessions. Those waters will be plenty stirred up.

    So, do you want to be well?

  • Friday of the Ninth Week of Ordinary Time

    Friday of the Ninth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    This whole story about Tobit contracting cataracts because of bird droppings falling in his eyes while he was napping, which we heard about on Tuesday, and then being cured by fish gall in today’s first reading is objectively gross and medically suspect.  But this story isn’t from a medical textbook, it’s from Holy Scripture, so what’s important here is the deeper healing that happens in Tobit’s heart, and his family’s life.

    Angels are messengers that God sends sometimes to let us know his plans for us, or to guard and guide us, or even to help us to see what’s really important.  And it’s that last thing that the archangel Raphael does in today’s first reading.  If we remember the story as we heard it on Tuesday, after Tobit was made blind by cataracts, he scolded his wife for accepting a goat as a bonus on her labor, because he did not believe her story.  In that part of the story, it seems that Tobit had to learn that charity – for which he himself was quite well known – begins at home.  His period of blindness gave him that very insight, I think, and in today’s story he rejoices in his cleared vision.

    Through the intercession of Saint Raphael the archangel, Tobit regained his sight and was able to see his son safely returned from a long and dangerous journey.  He saw also the return of his family fortune.  And he saw the union of his son Tobit with his new wife Sarah.  There was great cause for rejoicing in all that he was able to see and Tobit didn’t miss a beat in placing the credit where it belonged.  He said,

    Blessed be God,
    and praised be his great name,
    and blessed be all his holy angels.
    May his holy name be praised
    throughout all the ages.
    Because it was he who scourged me,
    and it is he who has had mercy on me.

    And so we praise God today for angels who help us to see what’s really important.  We praise God for angels who clear up our clouded vision and help us to see past the obstacles we’ve put in God’s way.  We praise God for angels who help us to overcome our pride and self-righteousness so that God’s way can become clear to us.  May we rejoice along with Tobit and Anna and all the rest that God has truly sent his angels to us often to bring us back to him.

  • Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent

    Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent

    Today’s readings

    Just as the saraph serpent was lifted up on a pole in the desert for the people to see, and thus live, so the Son of Man, Jesus Christ, was lifted up on the cross for the salvation of the world.  In these late Lenten days, the Church is looking to the Cross, looking toward Jerusalem, knowing that the hour of the Lord, in which he would pay the dear price of our salvation, is near at hand.

    With hearts filled with gratitude, we come to this Eucharist, with our eyes fixed on our Lord lifted up for us, who pours himself out for us again and still.  When we see him lifted up, we remember that he is “I AM,” our crucified and risen Lord, and whenever we look to him, we are saved from all that ails us, from our sins and brokenness, and we ourselves are lifted up to eternal life.

    Our challenge in these late Lenten days is to be that icon of the Cross, like the saraph serpent, to whom people can look and find healing and salvation. We have to be the image of Christ crucified so that the world can become whole.

  • Tuesday of the Fourteenth Week of Ordinary Time

    Tuesday of the Fourteenth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Today’s Gospel underlines the failure of the Jewish leaders of the time.  Jesus was casting out demons from many people, which was what they were supposed to do but could not.  They were too busy attending to the the Law instead of seeing to the salvation of souls, which is what the Law was intended to accomplish. So instead of fixing what was lacking in their faith, they accuse Jesus of being in league with the devil. Kind of a “best defense is a good offense” sort of thing.  But Jesus sees the vast number of people who long for spiritual care but are not getting it, and laments the lack of laborers for the harvest.

    The issue is just as pressing now as it was then.  Too many times, we are distracted by whatever issue and miss tending to the people around us who need God’s presence.  The needs aren’t different: people need to know God loves them and is present to them; they need to see and experience God’s infinite mercy; they need healing; they need to be accompanied in their pain; they need to see the value of living for God.  It’s up to all of us disciples to make that life real and attractive, so that everyone can come to know the Lord.  You might be the Jesus that someone needs to see today.  You might be the laborer God is sending into some situation today.  Don’t be afraid to follow the Master of the harvest!