Heal Our Brokenness (12/09/2023)

Yesterday was the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, the day we celebrate Mary as the mother of Jesus, chosen from before her birth, a willing and holy collaborator with our all-loving LORD to bring salvation and life in her son, Jesus Christ, to our world broken by sin. When I got up yesterday, I looked forward to the day, a marker of hope.

But then, at mass, I couldn’t help but notice the unhappiness of the woman behind me. Hers wasn’t merely an expression of sadness; hers was an expression of anger. And I found myself praying for her and her life and struggle, whatever it was. I prayed that she would find peace.

Yesterday, I went to the cancer center to have my port flushed, a necessary part of maintaining my ability to receive future drugs and treatments. And I couldn’t help but notice the people in the waiting room, and I felt a real empathy for them. I know what cancer can do. I know the impact of treatments. I know the heartache when a loved one is told there’s nothing more to do. And I found myself praying for those individuals as I made my way home again.

Last evening, I went out with my friends as is our custom on Friday evenings. But it wasn’t the same. Two key people were missing. The food was excellent, but the experience wasn’t the same. And as we headed to the car after dinner, I found myself praying for the ones whom I missed: the waitperson and friend who had brightened so many previous Friday evenings with her loving care for us all and the friend whom we’d lost recently who shared our dinners and our lives.

As I sat with the LORD before bedtime, bringing my day to the LORD and asking for help in sorting it out and in reading the signs of the time for direction, I found myself full of pain for the world. I brought the brokenness in the world that I’d experienced and carried with me that day. I brought the individuals to the LORD for healing, for help, for comfort, for a sharing in the LORD’s life. And I prayed to the LORD to heal our broken world. Then I read the readings for today. And there it was.

The gospel for today is:

Jesus went around to all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom, and curing every disease and illness. At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest."Then he summoned his Twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits to drive them out and to cure every disease and every illness.Jesus sent out these Twelve after instructing them thus, “Go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. As you go, make this proclamation: 'The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.' Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give."  (Matthew 9:35–10:1, 5a, 6-8)

We are called to be compassionate as our loving Savior is compassionate. We are called to “suffer with” those who are suffering. We are called to bring the needs of others to the LORD. We are called to be laborers ourselves in Christ’s ongoing salvific mission. We are called to bring Christ to one another through our loving presence and through sharing their burdens. And we are called to bring the Good News of the LORD’s power and presence in our world and for our world. And my mind returned to Mary whose life from conception we honored that day. And I could see her handing her child to me so that I might take on the role of “Christ bearer.”

As we continue our journey in faith, hope and love to the manger this Christmas, let us embrace our LORD’s loving and salvific plan for us individually and for our world. And let us open our minds, our hearts, and our lives so that we might bear Christ to others. Let us accept the call to be laborers in the LORD’s divine design. Let us bear Christ wherever we go and share Christ with whomever we encounter along the way.

Until tomorrow, let us all love well.