Jesus Heals Through His Humanity

During the month of July, Catholics celebrate the Precious Blood of Jesus. We are invited to contemplate our Lord’s sacrifice—literally the pouring out of His life force for all of humanity itself. It seems timely, then, that on the eve of this devotional time in the Church, we read from Mark about Jesus’s encounter with Jarius and the woman suffering from a hemorrhage. Why timely? Because this story, which in its graceful arc intricately and artfully entwines two distinct and co-equal plots, highlights our Lord’s humanity. Yes, it is His divinity that miraculously heals. But it is Jesus’s willingness and desire to physically and emotionally encounter the other in his and her humanness that ultimately invite and allow for physical and spiritual restoration.

In Mark 5:21-43, the narrative is shaped and informed by physicality. The crowds are loud and chaotic as they press on and push against Jesus, and even the private moments are characterized by tender physical intimacy. Integral to Jesus’s humanity is His attentive listening. This “human skill,” this “fruit” that defines Christ’s “path,” becomes and forms the path of the story itself (Spiritual Direction Certificate Program, 2019, p. 1).

Jairus appears, begging Jesus to heal his dying daughter. Jesus immediately answers this call into relationship with him, “leaving [Himself] behind…[and] entering fully into [Jairus’s] narrative” (Spiritual Direction, et. al., 2019, p. 1). The woman is introduced amidst this chaos, and the story shifts. Faithful despite her suffering, she is drawn to Jesus’s humanity. He is moving away from her, mobbed by followers, but she pursues Him, believing, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well” (5:28). As soon as she touches Jesus, He not only enters her reality, into relationship with her, He “becomes” her reality. “Immediately her hemorrhage stopped,” and Jesus was “[i]mmediately aware that power had gone forth from Him” (5:29-30). What’s more, to the incredulity of His disciples, He asks who touched Him. Jesus questions not only to “listen to others,” but also to form relationships with them—“to hear and explore what is on the other’s heart and mind” (Spiritual Direction, et. al., 2019, p. 1). The woman, knowing “in her body that she was healed” (5:29), could have quickly exited, but Jesus calls her to Him, her former unclean “qualities fad[ing] into…insignificance” (Van Kaam, 1996, p. 19). 

It is also significant that the woman’s hemorrhaging blood simultaneously represents the essence of her societal “uncleanliness” as well as the life force that had been draining from her for years and causing her terrible suffering. Both her status as an outcast and a woman in constant pain results in her separateness from others—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It is in Jesus’s vibrant humanity, however, that He stops the purging of this life force, returning not only her body but also, because of her faith, her spirit to right order.

While Jesus is still speaking to the woman, we are suddenly thrust back into the clamoring crowd. People are telling Jairus the girl is already dead. Hearing or ignoring this, Jesus comforts him “with reassurances of His love” (Acklin & Hicks, 2017, p. 52). Taking only Jairus, Peter, James, and John with Him, Jesus is again immersed in suffering: “weeping and wailing” at the girl’s house. He invites the family to believe the child only sleeps, but they reject this offer of faith, laughing at Him instead. Jesus’s rises up in the strength and tenderness of His humanity, sending them away, and moving towards the girl, into the sanctum of her room (of her being). His actions say, “[L]et me concentrate on giving you my entire attention” (Sullivan, 2000, p. 126), and He calls her into relationship with Him, commanding, “Talitha Cum” (5:41). This healing, unlike that of the woman, is intensely private; Jesus instructs the parents to tell no one. His humanity is delightfully lastly revealed when He pragmatically tells the girl’s parents to “give her something to eat” (5:43). Like her soul, her body requires nourishment, as well.

These stories prompt us to ask, When we suffer, will we have Jairus’s courage to beg for Jesus’s help? When we experience severe emotional and physical pain, will we persevere as the outcast woman, crawling through the crowd to touch Jesus’s garment? Let us pray that indeed we will. As our faith deepens, may we understand that the “human encounter” with Jesus is “the essence of cure in the deepest sense,” and that He calls us to Him through the fortitude of faith (Van Kaam, 1996, pp. 19-20).

Acklin, T., & Hicks, B. (2017). Vulnerability. In Spiritual Direction: A Guide for Sharing the Father’s Love (pp. 49-74). Emmaus Road Publishing.

Spiritual Direction Certificate Program (2019). What Does It Mean To Listen? (p. 1). Unpublished. 

Sullivan, J.E. (2000). The Healing Power. In The Good Listener (pp. 124-128). Ave Maria Press.

Van Kaam, A. (1996). Counseling and Psychotherapy as Human Encounter. In The Art of Existential Healing (pp. 15-40). Dimension Books.

We All Need the Good Shepherd

“Jesus said: ‘I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd. This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again. This command I have received from my Father’” (Jn 10:11-18). 

We live at a time when many of us believe we have no need of a shepherd, let alone anyone who asks anything of us. And an authority or leader who asks us to follow, learn, and sacrifice? Not a chance. Clearly, however, we are misguided in thinking it is our autonomy and “freedom” from such an authority that strengthen us and give our lives meaning. 

Indeed we are like sheep in need of not only a shepherd, but also a truly good one. What would happen to the flock without Him? The sheep would disperse; get lost; be eaten by predators. And what if the shepherd is not a good man? If shepherding is only a job, he doesn’t have a love for his sheep. He doesn’t really care about them. This “shepherd,” when he “sees a wolf coming…leaves the sheep and runs away.” He simply punches in and out to put in his time. And he will quit when the work becomes too challenging. This shepherd “is not a shepherd” at all “because he works for pay and has no concern for his sheep.” 

Sounds familiar, right? Looks like our culture, doesn’t it?

Yes, God gives us the freedom to reject Him. We can deny Him and that we need a shepherd at all. But then what happens? We each go our own way. We don’t want to get lost or eaten, but we do, because we have no wisdom, no virtuous guidance. Sin seduces us into thinking we can do everything ourselves—on our own. “Who needs a God to guide us?” we ask. “I have a good heart,” we tell ourselves. “I know right from wrong.” 

We have become so disconnected from the Lord that we can no longer recollect our oneness with Him. That we don’t need God is a lie we have purchased in the expectation of obtaining power and freedom from Truth. And we have done so to the detriment of our very souls, which are then separated from this Truth. 

Jesus tells us that true freedom is not found in separation, but rather in “belonging,” in living in  “oneness” with Him. And it’s not only that we are part of “one flock,” which Jesus leads. We also “hear [His] voice” and listen to Him. We are obedient to Him. Just as Jesus is in eternal relationship with the Father—“the Father knows me and I know the Father”—so does He call us into relationship: “I know mine and mine know me.” In addition, it is Jesus’s oneness with the Father that calls Him to do God’s will. In sacrificing His life, He exemplifies not only ultimate freedom, but also ultimate love: “I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have the power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.” Jesus is not a victim. He chooses His path, losing none of His “power.” Rightly ordered to His Father’s “command,” He remains in complete alignment with His will. 

We are all sheep. And we need the Good Shepherd to walk with and guide us. May we discover ways to get quiet enough everyday so that, like the flock, we can hear His voice. He’s right with us in our midst. Let us follow Him.

Some Thoughts on Discernment

For a long while, I used the word “discernment” incorrectly. Does this resonate with you? I used to think it refers to the ability to make thoughtful decisions—to judge well or gain a better understanding of a situation. Now, however, I see that it points to something much deeper. Discernment in fact infuses every aspect of our relationship with God. 

Discernment is not only our ability to hear God’s voice, but also to listen to Him. The Lord invites us to be obedient to His call so that we may answer Him and ultimately enter into an ever deeper love with Him. As early Church Father Origen tells us, “God doesn’t not want to impose the good, but wants free beings….No one but God knows what our soul has received from him, not even ourselves” (CCC 2847). Indeed, in order to discern God’s will for us, we must be able, have the liberty to, love Him. “We can only love in freedom, which is why the Lord created us free, free even to say no to Him” (Pope Francis, December 7, 2022). One may think, “I would never say no to God.” But is that so? Do we always accept our struggles as invitations to grow in friendship with God? And “between [our] trials,” so that we may grow and mature in our faith, do we surrender to the Holy Spirit who calls us to “discern” how to reorder ourselves to Him (CCC 2847)? Only if we are able to actually deny God can we whole-heartedly assent to His love for us, which is ever-present and always precedes our denial.  

Discernment is greater than our ability to merely understand God. It is the awareness that in our relationship with Him, the Lord asks everything of us. How we listen and respond will ultimately determine the degree to which we discern well and love Him completely.

https://www.vaticannews.va/en/pope/news/2022-12/pope-francis-general-audience-discernment-confirmation.html

Living in Right Order as a Family

“Brothers and sisters: Put on, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has had grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Wives, be subordinate to your husbands, as is proper in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and avoid any bitterness toward them. Children, obey your parents in everything, for this is pleasing to the Lord. Fathers, do not provoke your children, so they may not become discouraged” (2 Col 3:12-21).

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Family. We are called to look to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, each holy and perfected, as the example of how to lead our lives in community devoted to God. In addition to the Holy Family, today’s Second Reading presents instructions for how to live with others in right order. With Christ at the center of all we do, we are to be compassionate, kind, humble, gentle, patient, and forgiving. We are to be thankful and lovingly correct one another. We are to honor the natural hierarchical order of the family. Rather than an arena of power struggles and contentiousness, this order, based on mutual respect and love, promotes encouragement, freedom, and the love of God.

At a time when the family is under attack; when chaos undermines the very foundation of male and female; and when the culture actively seeks to destroy life, taint childhood, and turn parents and children against one another, we are called to turn to the Holy Family for guidance and reassurance. Before Sister Lucia dos Santos, one of the three children of Fatima, died, she declared that the final battle between Christ and Satan would be over marriage and family. “The final battle between the Lord and the kingdom of Satan,” she wrote, “will be about marriage and the family.” She added, however, that “Our Lady has already crushed Satan’s head.”

As individuals as well as members of families and communities, let us look to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Regardless of what the culture tells us, let us remain faithful to their example of communal holiness, connected through faith and devotion to God and who he calls us to be.

The Relationship Between Love and Faith

At a time when many are arguing about love, perhaps it’s worth considering this virtue in a slightly different way. We are told we need to “love ourselves”; we should be allowed to love whomever and whatever we want in whatever way we want. We are told authentic love is all that matters and that each of us gets to decide what that means. But the chaos in our culture and the fact that society seems indeed bereft of love suggest that somehow we’ve drifted off course.

It’s hardly surprising that the body politic is perpetually confused about love. As we attempt increasingly to remove God from American life, we have also relegated faith to a system of silly beliefs and mythical fallacies. Who needs faith when we have facts? Well, the reality that many are suffering from a misunderstanding and lack of both love and faith suggests that each is essential to the other. Only in their reintegration, in fact, will the individual and the polity begin to flourish as they are called to do.

In his autobiographical work, He Leadeth Me, Father Walter J. Ciszek, S.J. (1973) offers us valuable insight about the relationship between faith and love:


Faith…is the basis for love; it is in the insight of faith that we understand the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of all men. Love, Saint John writes repeatedly, is the one thing that fulfills all the commandments and the law. But prior to love, and bolstering it at the core, is faith; we must have faith before we can love, or we will surely end up loving the wrong thing–loving ourselves more than God, or loving creatures for themselves–and this is the meaning of sin. To increase our love, to love properly, we must strive always to increase our faith, and we do this by means of prayer and the sacraments (p. 192).

Without faith, Ciszek tells us, we will ultimately love in a disordered way; we will love wrongly. We know that as a society we are more anxious, sad, and depressed than ever. In this state we cannot love fully. No matter how hard we try, if we insist in fulfilling our desires and finding our loves in the material world alone, we will never truly love.

“A man of faith is always conscious of God,” Ciszek (1973) tells us, which is to say he is always aware of perfect goodness, perfect love (p. 192). May we contemplate the importance of faith in our own lives, and in so doing, reorder ourselves to love as Christ calls us to do.

Ciszek, W.J. (1973). He Leadeth Me. Image.

Do You Know Who You Are? Some Initial Thoughts on the Theology of the Body

Do you know who you are? No, I’m not asking your name, what you do for a living, or if you play a sport. I’m asking, Do you actually KNOW WHO YOU ARE?

Today we are told our identities are fluid, changeable. We are told our sex is not only “assigned” at birth, but also that our sex (the physical bodily expression of maleness or femaleness) is only a servant to our more “important” gender–how we self-express and see ourselves in society. In other words, we are told our gender (how we self-express) is to comply with how we feel, rather than aligning how we feel (which can change depending on our state of mind or mood) with the reality of the body, which is our “sex.”

At the root of all of this confusion is our disrupted relationship with God and with the Holy Spirit who lovingly calls us into right order with Him. As our culture increasingly rejects Him, we become more confused and willing to accept the dystopia and dysphoria that result from this separation. As Gaudium et Spes declared, “When God is forgotten, the creature itself grows unintelligible” (36). Commenting on this idea, Jason Evert explains in Ascension’s course on Theology of the Body, “When we lose sight of supernatural realities, we will lose sight of natural realities” (Segment 2, Session 1). Indeed, we have lost sight of the reality of who we are, not only physically (we reject our very bodies), but also spiritually–who we are in God.

Here are some additional excerpts to ponder from Jason’s presentation:

“Our bodies reveal not only our identity as male and female, but also our calling.” Who we are is determined by our bodies, and it is this identity that calls us into relationship with one another in a unique and ordered way. When we don’t know who we are as male and female, our relationships with ourselves and each other become disordered.

“Men and women make the invisible love of God visible on earth by the way we love.” Although God is invisible, He is made visible, made manifest, through our very bodies and the way we love one another. We are called to reflect the perfect love of the Trinity. God’s relationship with the Son is expressed through the Holy Spirit, who is the unending and ever-moving love between them.

Today we are encouraged to identify with our concupiscence; we are encouraged to declare, “God made me this way, so I’m fine as I am.” But this is not who we really are. “If I come to think that my brokenness is who I am and who God wants me to be, then I’m normalizing my brokenness. And we will assume the Church is out of touch with reality if it expects us to live differently.” But JP II has a different vision. He declares that “our brokenness is not who God created us to be…These vices do not [constitute] our identities. We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures.”

What is your identity? How are you defining it? Do you know who you are?