
Father Richard critiques how, even within Christianity, we doubt the healing power of the gospel:
When religion is not about healing, it really doesn’t have much to offer people in this life. Many have called it “carrot on the stick” theology or, as my friend Brian McLaren says, we made the gospel largely into “an evacuation plan for the next world.” If we don’t understand the need and desire for healing, then salvation (salus, or healing) becomes a matter of hoping for some delayed gratification. We desperately need healing for groups, institutions, marriages, the wounds of war, violence, racism, and the endless social problems in which we are drowning today. But we won’t know how to heal if we don’t learn the skills at ground zero: the individual human heart.
For much of its history following CE 313 when Christianity became the imperial religion of the Roman Empire, the church’s concern was not healing, but rather maintaining social and church order: the doling out of graces and indulgences (as if that were possible); granting dispensations, annulments, and absolutions, along with the appropriate penalties; keeping people in first marriages at all costs, instead of seeing marriage itself as an arena for growth, forgiveness, and transformation for wife, husband, children, and the whole extended family, and beyond. In general, we tried to resolve issues of the soul and the Spirit by juridical means, which seldom works.
We’ve largely lost the very word healing in mainline Christian churches. Around the time I entered into ministry, there was a resurgence in the notion of healing prayer and healing services. Many Catholics thought, “Well, this must come from the Protestants; we’re not into healing!” And of course, they were right! Many Catholics didn’t expect to really become healed people in an inner or outer way. As priests, we felt our job was to absolve sin rather than help people to grow and heal. “Get rid of the contaminating element,” as it were, rather than “Learn what you can about yourself and God because of this conflict, pain, or suffering.” Those are two very different paths. In the four Gospels, Jesus did two things over and over again: he preached and he healed. We did a lot of preaching, but not too much healing. We didn’t know how.
I’m convinced that if preaching doesn’t effect some level of healing or transformation in the listener, then it’s not even the gospel being preached. Healing is the simplest criterion of preaching the word that I can imagine. The truth heals and expands us in its very hearing: “The truth will make you free” (John 8:32). It allows and presses us to reconfigure the world with plenty of room for gentleness and peace for ourselves, and for those around us. Only whole people can imagine or call forth a more whole world.
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Dancing Standing Still: Healing the World from a Place of Prayer (Paulist Press, 2014), 53–55.
Gabriel Jimenez, Untitled (detail), 2017, photo, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Humble soil and saliva are base elements and essential to one of Jesus’ healings. The capacity for healing need not be elaborate or ostentatious.
Story from Our Community:
I grew up in a confusing Catholic home and school. On the one hand, God was punitive, definitely patriarchal, and conditional. On the other hand, Jesus was loving and kind. For many years, I turned away from my Catholic roots, wounded and judgmental of its power to harm. On my healing faith journey, Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations connect me once again to what I have always known and felt deep within. Christ is unconditionally loving, and universally so. No one and no one thing is outside of being worthy of love. I am grateful to receive these reminders daily.
—Patricia T.