the hem of Christ’s garment
A few weeks ago, an older gentleman called our outreach center. He used oxygen at home to relieve his labored lungs but was unable to use his portable oxygen concentrator because his power was disconnected at home. He couldn't make ends meet on a fixed income with rising electricity fees. On his behalf, one of our volunteers called the power company, knowing they have grant money available for medical emergencies requiring power for residents living in poverty.
He didn't qualify for help.
Elderly. Medically fragile. Living alone. Fixed income. In need of oxygen. Denied.
We were able to pay his power bill because of the donations of the faithful within our community. Praise God.
Similarly, I had a woman come to the door a month or so ago looking for her next box of Ensure. She receives treatment for esophageal cancer, but her disease and treatment make it impossible for her to eat solid food. Without much insurance and loss of wages due to her illness, she exists on one bottle of Ensure each day—Ensure that she receives from our center.
These incidents had me thinking a lot about our role in the lives of the poor and sick. In adoration this morning, I asked Jesus what He would say if He had to give a sermon about caring for the sick. In a very clear voice, He said, I've already said it.
Fair. (Such a Dad thing to say.)
I opened my Bible and began to read what He already said.
Account after account, I read about how Christ made Himself physically present to the raw and open wounds of lepers, infected pustules of the sick, deformities of the lame and withered, foaming spittle from demoniacs, hemorrhaging women, and every other malady that forces the sick into the shadows to suffer alone. He gathered them into His presence, laying hands upon their fevered bodies and bloodied wounds and a gentle finger over blind eyes, deaf ears, and mute lips. By the touch of His hand or cloak, He cured those who suffered from disease.
I noticed that many accounts of the sick in Scripture include the faith and advocacy of friends, family, and community. The young man who was lowered through the roof to Jesus by His friends: Jarius and the Roman Centurion, who sought out Christ on behalf of their children; the friends of Lazarus; the community of Gennesaret; and those along the Sea of Galilee, who helped gather the sick into Christ's presence.
The reality is those who are sick—suffering from mental or physical illness—still reach out for the hem of Christ's garment. It is still His touch that cures, whether He works through the hands of a doctor or the medical advances He made possible; it is through Christ that we all find our healing.
Our role is still to advocate for and bring our sick brothers and sisters into Christ's presence. We must do so with radical urgency and faith. No doubt this is most powerfully done through prayer and bringing the Eucharist to our sick, but it is also done by advocating for the protection of each patient's God-given dignity and the sanctity of their life.
The elderly gentleman who called Outreach and the woman who receives radiation but is sent home without a means for nourishment are two examples of "the sick" who we (you and me) are commanded to care for. These are the individuals we must hoist through the roof towards Jesus, taking the care of their physical and spiritual well-being radically personal.
Note: Not all who are sick receive healing on this side of heaven. It is our job to care for the sick as a witness to the hope of the Gospel—that someday, we will be healed, whole, and resting in the arms of the Father.
Don’t miss our Pray, Grow, & Serve Devotional this week on St John of the Cross. A wonderful saint who took caring for the sick radically personal… Download for FREE (as always) and pray the rosary with your family!
For more information about joyfully reawakening a culture of life within your domestic church, visit www.pelicanprojectministry.org.
