The Word That Heals

One day a mother overheard her five-year-old playing “hospital.” Her patient was stretched out on the couch as the little girl touched various parts of her body—head, stomach, throat—pronouncing each time “Body of Christ”, “Body of Christ,” “Body of Christ.”

Startled, her mother asked her what she meant by this. It came out that the little girl had been paying attention at Mass when the congregation said (as then translated), “only say The Word and I shall be healed.” Curious, she wondered what “The Word” of healing might be, so she listened carefully to what followed. The next audible word spoken by the priest was “Body of Christ” which he pronounced over and over again, to each person who came forward for Holy Communion.

This five-year-old saw what many much older do not: it is the Body of Christ that heals and gives life.

Today’s Gospel begins the Bread of Life discourse, in which Jesus tells the people, “I am the bread of life.” He will later say, not just once but three times, “You must eat my body and drink my blood.” The crowd is unable to understand this, and at that point, many leave and stop following him. Jesus never stops them, never calls them back to explain, “I only meant that metaphorically!” Rather, He turns to his closest followers, “Will you also leave?” And Peter, although understanding no more than the rest, says, “To whom would we go? You have the words of everlasting life!” It is only at the Last Supper, when Jesus gives His Body and Blood in Holy Communion, that they will begin to understand.

It is mysterious, this sacrament by which we receive Jesus not just into our minds and hearts but into our very bodies. In the Eucharist we receive the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ, as our human bodies unite with His in a very real Communion. It in some ways parallels the love of husband and wife in which physical union expresses the spiritual union. The love that Jesus has for us is that of a Bridegroom—yet deeper and more lasting than any human love can ever be.

This Communion of love is also a source of life and healing.

A few summers ago, I went to China “to hold babies.” I had no medical knowledge whatsoever, and could not, despite my best attempts, learn Chinese beyond the words for “watermelon” and “beer,” and I still get the latter one confused. 😊 But there was something profoundly healing for both me and the babies in just the holding, the exchange of gazes and smiles. With the preemies, this took on an even deeper level, as we practiced what is known as “kangaroo care.”

Kangaroo care involves skin-to-skin contact—the baby is undressed of all but diaper and is “worn,” held closely against the chest, usually under a shirt, next to the heart of the caregiver. This not only gives the little one emotional comfort through bonding, but it also has certain documented medical effects: the heart beat and respiration of the baby stabilizes to sync with the stronger heart beat and breathing of the caregiver, brain activity and alertness increase, sleep and feeding both be improve, crying lessens and there is often reduction not only of pain, but of infection and even of infant mortality.

When we receive the Body of Christ into our body, we are invited into a similar healing Communion. We are healed of venial sin, we receive the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, we learn to sync our minds and our hearts with His, we are strengthened for the journey. Even when we are not fully cognizant of the gifts being given, He is with us, skin-to-skin close, healing us, changing us, giving us His Life.

 

Featured Image Credit: kisistvan77 on Pixabay