St. Agnes
It's not enough to ask God for the grace of healing. We might say that asking for healing is necessary but not sufficient. One more thing is required: we must offer the disease, the wound, the broken part in sacrifice. We must hold it up and out as a sign, a gesture of humility. We don't do this b/c God needs to see us being submissive, or b/c He doesn't know what needs healing. We do this b/c we need to be free of whatever it is that's holding us back from receiving what He has to give. Almost always, what's holding us back is Pride – that primordial disobedience rooted in the lie that we can become God w/o God. I can heal myself. I can make myself holy. I can be virtuous on my own. And the most vicious of all: I can love w/o Love Himself. NB the man with the withered hand. He doesn't ask for healing out loud. But you know he's asking in his heart. He's watching Jesus and the Pharisee square up – once again! – over the limits of the Law. Jesus has a chance here to perform two miracles – heal a broken hand and open the hearts of the Pharisees to the power of divine mercy. The man offers his hand, and it is healed. But the hardness of the Pharisees' hearts grieves and angers the Lord. Why won't they offer their broken hearts in sacrifice?
We can ask ourselves the same question. The answer is probably the same for us and the Pharisees. Yes, Pride. But how is our Pride being expressed? A deeply seated need for control. A fear of losing independence. Appearing to be weak or needy. Refusing to admit that we can be broken. Maybe we can't face our mortality, so asking for healing turns into an admission that our time here is ticking away. Or maybe, asking God for healing means conceding that we are dependent on Him for everything we have and are. That's a life-changing concession that changes things well-beyond a single wound or a disease. But that's what divine healing does: it changes everything. We shift from being a prideful and wounded sinner into being a humble and healed saint. And maybe that's the scariest part of offering ourselves in sacrifice. What comes next? What happens after I am made whole again? Truly, there is nothing left but surrender, gratitude, and praise. All of which lead inexorably to freedom in Christ. That's not just scary; it's terrifying. Blessedly terrifying.
