Gospel of Mark 2:1-12
In the last couple of weeks my professional work has entered my personal life. I have had two young girls with whom I have spent time die, one was 12 and the other was 6 years old. I spoke of the twelve year old back in November when I went to offer her some healing touch and teach her the use of imagery as a way to address her physical pain. The six year old was 3 years old when a friend and I use to babysit for her. She died suddenly. Then a dear friend’s mother was diagnosed with cancer and due to her age and the location of the cancer they have decided not to take aggressive measures.
I feel bombarded. As I sat quietly this morning trying to take the last two weeks in from a place of prayer, I realized how badly I needed a chaplain to be present to me, to link me with the Holy. My intellectual response has been to try and console the family and friends of these lovely souls.
The gospel reading for the 22nd of February tells the story of a man who is paralyzed and his friends bringing him to Jesus for healing. They couldn’t reach Jesus by normal means so they made an opening in the roof and lowered his mat right in front of Jesus. Jesus, seeing the whole of the man, wanted him to know full healing of mind, body, and spirit. We know the impact of this healing on the man, but nothing is said about the four friends, the crowd, or the scribes that were gathered.
The scribes thought that Jesus had pushed the edge when He chose to heal the wounded part of this man that was not part of his physical cells, but rather his spirit. During my prayer this morning I found myself being the one needing healing, the scribes who questioned whether it should or could be done and the friends who wanted more than anything to see this friend of theirs healed.
I stayed a long time dealing with my inner scribes who seemed to think that if I could just buck up, after all, these people are not my blood relatives. At the close of my prayer time, it was the Holy One who looked up and said come closer. Breathe in My presence. Allow me to nurture your spirit’s roots so that you know my healing of your heart.
As this coming week unfolds I hope to allow this Holy Breath into those places needing healing. Perhaps I have been given my marching orders for Lent, allowing myself the vulnerability of being lowered into the sight and presence of the One who calls us to wholeness.