Wholeness/healing in the Risen Christ

Thursday, April 12, 2012—In today’s first Scripture reading,  Acts of the Apostles 3: 11-26,  Peter is upset that people seem to think that the crippled man was made whole by Peter and John’s efforts, not recognizing that God alone heals people and transforms their lives.  We are no more than an instrument in God’s hands, as is the pipe through which water flows into our homes.  It is so easy to take ownership of things of which we are not the authors.  Our ego wants that kind of recognition, power and control. Yet we know that God is the One doing the good we accomplish in our work, our relationships, our family and community lives and our personal lives as well. St. Paul reminds us of this in Ephesians 2: 10 when he says: “We are…created in Christ Jesus for good work, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”  What is crucial is our cooperation with God to bring to fruition “the good work which God prepared beforehand.”    We can thwart or block the good work we are meant to do . How? Low self-esteem, negative beliefs, being stuck in past angers and hurts, shame, fear, blaming others for our lethargy, our lack of motivation or whatever is the impediment.   We may be excusing ourselves by saying things like:  “It’s too hard.” “It’s not my  fault.” “I’m not smart enough.” “I’m too young, too old, too sick, unworthy, too busy, don’t have time.” “My boss won’t let me or doesn’t like me or won’t like it.”  “Others don’t believe in me” (really means that I don’t believe in myself). “People will criticize me.” “I don’t want to upset anyone.” “Nobody will care anyway.” “I don’t want to make waves,” etc. etc. etc.!  What excuses to you think people use? Which do you use?

 
Somehow each of us needs to let go of excuses and believe in the power of the Risen Christ within us! In God’s mind, that which cripples our creativity, our initiative, our taking responsibility for our lives, the quality and productivity in our work lives, the tenor of our  family/community lives, our spiritual and psychological growth, our ongoing conversion is already healed. Is it healed in our mines?  “Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door” to a better life will be opened to you, Jesus tells us in Mt 7:7. Do I believe that?  Today, in the Acts of the Apostles, Peter says to me and to you: “Get up and walk!”  Do something that brings the needed change in your life.

The Emmaus Story

Today’s Gospel is the story of the disciples on the way to Emmaus (Lk 24: 13-35).  The Emmaus story is everyone’s  story. Something happens in our lives.  Shaken by it, we get together with family or friends, fellow religious, sometimes even with strangers or with a counselor, a spiritual director  or the pastor of our parish to share our pain, our disillusionment, our anger and/or sadness. As with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, our eyes frequently remain shut. We do not recognize the Lord walking with us, as the Scriptures of our lives are both unfolding or being explained to us in our storytelling. As Jesus said to the two disciples, He says to us: “Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” We, too,  might ask ourselves:  “Did none of us realize that we had to undergo this troubling, incomprehensible, painful experience so as to enter our glory--the glory of being redeemed, the glory of being made strong in our weaknesses, the glory of faith and hope being strengthened in Christ Jesus, the glory of being broken and made whole by Divine Grace as we share in the sufferings of Christ?”  As St. Paul states in 2 Cor. 4:  8-12: “We are subjected to every kind of hardship, but never distressed; we see no way out but we never despair; we are pursued but never cut off; knocked down, but still have some life in us; always we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus, too, may be visible in our body.  Indeed, while we are still alive, we are continually being handed over to death for the sake of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus, too, may be visible in our mortal flesh. In us, then, death is at work; in you life.”

Mary Magdalene’s Transformation at the Tomb:  “Mary stayed outside the tomb weeping” (Jn 20: 11).  Are we, too, standing outside “the tomb” of our lives, weeping?  Perhaps we are.  How often have each of us been invited to take an action, make a decision, do something creative and/or different, change our pace and we continue peering into our emptiness or continue complaining about boredom or that nothing is interesting around “here”.  Is it possible that we stand on the outside of life peering in at others doing the work, getting involved, having fun, making a difference while we continue vegetating, growing “potatoes” on our couches or staying stuck in an addictive pattern of behavior?  The risen Christ appears in the person and/or the disguise of a family member, a friend, a co-worker, a fellow parishioner or even a stranger and asks “Why are you weeping?” “Why are you looking for life in places that drain your energy, depletes your happiness, dulls your senses?”  “Why are you hanging on to past deadening behaviors; stop complaining and ‘get a life’?”  When Jesus confronts Mary, gently calling her name, Mary stops her weeping and follows Jesus’ request to get involved in the resurrection  story, in new hope and  in a new life!  What about you and me?

Mary Magdalene's Transformation to New Life

“Mary stayed outside the tomb weeping” (Jn 20: 11).  Are we, too, standing outside “the tomb” of our lives, weeping?  Perhaps we are.  How often have each of us been invited to take an action, make a decision, do something creative and/or different, change our pace and we continue peering into our emptiness or continue complaining about boredom or that nothing is interesting around “here”.  Is it possible that we stand on the outside of life peering in at others doing the work, getting involved, having fun, making a difference while we continue vegetating, growing “potatoes” on our couches or staying stuck in an addictive pattern of behavior?  The risen Christ appears in the person and/or the disguise of a family member, a friend, a co-worker, a fellow parishioner or even a stranger and asks “Why are you weeping?” “Why are you looking for life in places that drain your energy, depletes your happiness, dulls your senses?”  “Why are you hanging on to past deadening behaviors; stop complaining and ‘get a life’?”  When Jesus confronts Mary, gently calling her name, Mary stops her weeping and follows Jesus’ request to get involved in the resurrection  story, in new hope and a new life! What about you and me?

Jesus in risen! Alleluia!

Today’s Gospel recounts the story of the women going to the tomb early in the morning, the first day of the week.  As they approach, they are startled by an earthquake that removes the stone blocking entrance into the tomb.  But even more surprising, an angel of the Lord is perched atop the stone and gives them the message that Jesus, as He foretold, is risen.  As they return to their dwelling, Jesus meets them on the way. 

You and I will meet Jesus many times on our journey as well.  The women did. We are told in another gospel message that Mary thought Jesus was the gardener until He called her by name. The two disciples on the way to Emmaus recognized Him in the breaking of the bread. The apostles fishing off the shore recognized Him as He was preparing breakfast for them.  Will we recognize Him in the disguise of a family member, a fellow religious, a co-worker, an event of our day?  He will be hidden in everyone we meet, in every event in which we participate, in the depths of our own being, in our sorrows and joys, in the light and in the darkness of our day. Will be recognize Him in whatever disguise He comes to us?

Mary, Mother of Sorrows

Mary, Mother of Sorrows:  The Sixth Sorrow—Mary receives the dead body of her Son—Mary gazes upon the dead body of her Son and  grieves a loss beyond words. She embraces this incredible loss.

Grieving is a form of healing. It purifies the soul of bitterness and anger and transforms our pain into compassionate affection and understanding of others in their suffering.  During a sabbatical that I was privileged to take following my ministry as provincial, I was meeting with a psychologist to deal with losses in my life. I was relating a very painful period in my life when, at age 17, I lost my mother to cancer. A few months prior to that, my superiors made an exception to the rule and would have allowed me to attend my older sister’s wedding, which was advanced so that my mother would be present (her death was imminent). I played the role of the perfect postulant and declined the offer—a decision I regretted. For a time, I blamed my superiors for giving me that choice.  I reasoned that they were the adults, not me and were responsible for my decision. They were not.  In my attempts to relinquish my responsibility, I denied myself the freedom to grow in  truth. The psychologist asked me to identify all the losses connected with that decision. The pain was intense. I had not realized that I was holding on to that grief, thus decreasing my ability to empathize with others. To the point that I rigidly controlled my pain  and blamed others would be the degree to which I was inauthentic, thus deepening the tendency to function from a heart of stone, not a heart of flesh, from a position of untruth and a lack of freedom.

With Mary, may we learn to grieve our losses and be true to the reality of our lives, without blaming others, as Mary did not do. Dealing with that darkness and embracing our truth enables the light to glow more brightly, the heart to beat more tenderly, and the wounds to heal more graciously.

Mary, Mother of Sorrows

Mary, Mother of Sorrows: The Sixth Sorrow—Mary receives the dead body of Jesus. “Joseph of  Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews, asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him permission so he came and removed his body” (Jn 19:38).

Imagine Mary watching Joseph reverently remove the nails from Jesus’ hands and feet and carefully lowering the dead body of Jesus to the ground. Legend has it that Mary asks to hold her Son’s body one last time before its burial.  She peers into the wounds, removes the crown of thorns, caresses his bloody hair, gently touches his swollen face and eyes, kisses his wounded body. The love of her entire being and the love of her Son meld into one huge shivering embrace.  She gazes silently upon the body that was crucified by sin and through which sin was deprived of its power to put believers to death—a miracle Mary witnessed in Dismis’ promise to be with Jesus that day in Paradise. 

How hard it was to let go of this dead body and allow Joseph and other men assigned to the task of burial to take Him from her and lay Him in the awaiting tomb. 

All of us know the horrible pain of watching a loved one’s coffin being lowered into a grave.  There is no sorrow as great as that kind of pain, unless it is watching a loved one die a miserable death. Mary was not exempted from this human experience of burying her Son. Yes, she buried Joseph and that was a painful loss, but no way as painful as burying her child, I don’t believe.

Mary weeps with all men and women or child who buries a loved one, no matter what the circumstances of death may be. With whom am I weeping? And who wept with me in similar circumstances? May Mary console us in our anguish!