In the past I have felt keenly my need for healing, but too, my compassion for all those who stood in front of our brothers and sisters in Christ and implicitly proclaimed our vulnerability and need for one another and the prayers of each and all. We each have our own story of personal suffering, brokenness, illness, and neediness --- and we also have our significant stories of the Christ who comforts and strengthens us in every difficulty. I don't know the details of all of these stories -- though yes, I know a few; in every case, however, I know how moving it is to witness to the Gospel in weakness and brokenness and how inspiring to stand silently with others who, though tacit about what the details of their vulnerability involve, say clearly with their presence that they trust in God, trust in the Sacraments, trust in the support of the ecclesia and cannot, in fact must not, do otherwise.
We each come to this Sacrament looking for God to work miracles -- "acts of power" as the NT puts it --- whether or not there is physical healing. We come as supplicants looking for God to transform our weakness into a complex canvas at once flawed and sacred, a Divine work of art, Magnificats proclaiming the One who is sovereign and victorious over the powers of sin and death even as (he) embraces and transforms them with his love and presence. It is especially significant that we do this on the day proclaiming the greatness of JnBap who is the greatest of "those born of women" and who prepared the way of the Lord who, [[Strengthen(s) the feeble hands, (and) make(s) firm the knees that are weak, say(s) to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear not! Here is your God, he comes with vindication; with divine recompense he comes to save you. Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf be cleared; then will the lame leap like a stag, then the tongue of the mute will sing.]] (Isaiah, today's first reading.)
Through the years I have written of a vocation to chronic illness -- a vocation to be ill within the Church, to bear our illness in Christ and (thanks to James Empereur, sj) of the sacrament of anointing as a prophetic sacrament of commissioning and call. This is what we have celebrated at St P's on this Gaudete Sunday: brothers and sisters in Christ who came forth together in their vulnerability and need in order to be strengthened in our witness to Christ and help inspire the faith and prayer of the entire assembly. Physical healing is not necessary for the effectiveness of this sacrament (though we certainly open ourselves to it) but the increasing ability to bear our illness in Christ --- the ability to trust in and witness to the God whose power is perfected in weakness and who puts an end to fear and deep insecurity is the real vocation here.
All of this becomes especially meaningful in light of Gaudete Sunday with its strong notes of hope and joy. It is also critically important because the sacrament of anointing (or of the sick) is a vocational sacrament. As I noted last week, Paul's theology recognizes such a vocation to suffering precisely because as Christians, we are not preparing to escape to heaven, but rather are called to be those who allow God in Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit to be Emmanuel here and now. The God of Jesus Christ has determined he will be God-with-us as he recreates heaven and earth so that ultimately he might be all in all. Today we celebrate the joy we know because of this divine will and the hopefulness we trustingly hold despite our suffering. As Isaiah reminds us, such trust can lead to strong hands capable of touching others with compassion and gentleness; likewise, it can result in "knees" that support us as we try to stand tall in our own truth --- glorifying God and singing our lives with a joy that comes when we truly know and entrust ourselves to his creative love.