Tag: healing

Holy Ground

Every church is a blessing. When we enter a sanctuary, we enter holy ground. Because this ground is healing, it wants to heal us. A ground that is free from all harmful things and influences, for we are in God’s house. In every religion there are sacred spaces. And there are traditions that make us notice that we are entering a different space. Jews put on their hats, Muslims take off their shoes, Christians take holy water to remember their baptism. It is good to have such thresholds that remind us not to just stumble into the room as if we were walking on an ordinary street.

“God said to Moses: Do not come near! Remove your sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground.” (Exodus 3:5)

Following God’s command, we humans try to keep holy places clean and intact. However, we do not succeed 100 percent. When we enter, we carry ourselves into the sacred space, bringing with us many things that are not perfect. However, the reason a sacred space is sacred is God alone. It is He, it is His presence that changes everything. The same is true for the liturgy. We celebrate it as beautifully, meaningfully, and reverently as possible, and yet it doesn’t even come close to the heavenly liturgy. Therefore, at the beginning of each liturgy, we open ourselves to God, let Him take away our sins, and “cleanse” us to be fully open to His healing power.

So what can we do when we enter a sanctuary? The threshold is our chance: stop for a moment! Notice how you are, who you are, and acknowledge God’s presence. God is here, God dwells here, he wants to heal you, he wants to do good to you. Do not let this opportunity pass. As you stand in the sacred space, God is constantly trying to draw you closer to Himself and restore your integrity, your joy and your love. As we leave the church, perhaps we can say with Jacob: “Truly, the Lord is in this place and I did not know it! How awesome this place is! This is nothing else but the house of God, the gateway to heaven!” (Genesis 28:16-17)

Lord, I thank you for all who care for sacred spaces: sacristans, those who clean the churches, those who pray in the churches and make sure they are more than mere museums, priests, deacons, all who are committed to worship you. I ask that you help me to pass by often to greet you and enjoy your presence. Amen.

How lovely your dwelling,
    O Lord of hosts!
My soul yearns and pines
    for the courts of the Lord.
My heart and flesh cry out
    for the living God.
As the sparrow finds a home
    and the swallow a nest to settle her young,
My home is by your altars,
    Lord of hosts, my king and my God!
Blessed are those who dwell in your house!
    They never cease to praise you.

Psalm 84:2-5

There Is Blood

Kelch_Mauritius Wilde

When I became a priest, I had the longing to never get used to what I was going to do. My chalice should help to be remind me. Years before my ordination I had been in Auschwitz. I could hardly bear what one is confronted with at this place of suffering. I retired a bit from the crowds and–kneeling on the ground–my fingers played in the soil, and unexpectedly found an isolator. It had probably served on one of the deadly fences around the camp. Having it in my hands, I immediately thought this piece could become the node of my chalice. – Years later, shortly before my ordination, I carried the isolator to the goldsmith of our monastery and he was able to create a chalice out of it. The broken piece is now completed with mountain crystal as sign that God heals what is broken, in life, and especially during the Holy Eucharist. God completes what is not finished, He takes the broken and heals it. He does so by the shedding of the blood of his own Son.

I am trying to imagine how much suffering, pain, and injustice this isolator “has seen”. It is a witness of the injustice that cried out to heaven, of the blood that was shed innocently. Also, Jesus was killed innocently. We believe that during the Holy Eucharist the wine is changed into the blood of Christ. We should not forget: what we have on the altar and what we receive is blood. When we lift the chalice towards heaven, we are reminded that God heard the cry of his Son. He came to take the sins away. The liturgy is not just a nice spectacle. It is about life and death. It celebrates that life prevails. That the dead will be raised. Jesus himself suffered and was killed. But he was raised from the dead and is alive now, with God. This is my prayer for all who died in the concentration camps. It is my prayer, with each Eucharist, that wounds are healed, especially those of the generations of families whose loved ones died in the Holocaust.

It does not take much to see in this chalice also the suffering of today’s times. There are enough people who suffer; who are afraid; who are oppressed; who are sick and don’t get help; who are treated unjustly; who are sidelined; who are persecuted; who are kidnapped; who are killed. Unfortunately, the suffering on earth did not find an end after Jesus’s death; although he wants us to live according to the new rules of the Kingdom of God. At least–that gives me hope–God looks at the suffering of his people. And, finally, he will bring everything to a good end.

Lord, in silence we stand before you holding the suffering of our world and our own suffering up to heaven. Look on us in your mercy. Look at the blood of your Son. Let us not become too tired to cry out to you, to celebrate your Son’s death and resurrection, to celebrate the drama of his life and the new hope you have given us.

If You Can!

You seldom see Jesus emotional. There might be some projection on my part when I read this story, however, one little sentence caught my attention recently during the liturgy. In the gospel of Mark, we see Jesus a little annoyed. (Mk 9:14-29) The disciples were not able to drive out a demon and they were discussing why.  “O faithless generation, how long will I be with you? How long will I endure you? Bring him to me, ” Jesus exclaims. We see Jesus often full of patience, tenderness, and mercy, and reminding us not to judge. But, here, he disqualifies the disciples and the whole generation recklessly. He cannot stand them anymore. He is tired of them. Rather, he is tired of their lack of faith.

When he talks with the father about his sick son, the father says: “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us”. Jesus responds: “‘If you can!’” as if to say, what a question. What a stupid question! How can one doubt the power of God and his power to heal? Jesus just does not get it. With these slightly sarcastic words “If you can,” in this terrifying moment for the father, I am reminded of the greatness and power of God. Sometimes we forget how great He is. And, thus, we cannot believe in him. His greatness, instead, is able to trigger our faith. This is what Jesus wants to do here. He does not reply: I am sorry, that you cannot believe yet. I am so sorry, see, faith is a journey, you will get there finally, don’t worry. No, he says: I worry, that you don’t see how great God is. And he adds: “Everything is possible to one who has faith.” With this, he reminds us that we are able to connect with God’s greatness in faith. Then the boy’s father cries out, “I do believe, help my unbelief!” This confrontational therapy helped the father to reactivate his strength: Sure, I believe. And if there is anything lacking in my faith, God – you are great enough, complete it! And, well, Jesus heals the boy.

My Lord and my God, let me never think too small of you. Let me admire and acknowledge your greatness and might. Your power will pull me up. Your mercy will take care of my weakness. Let me not further annoy you. Let me trust that you CAN DO IT. How could you not?  Confront me when necessary. Heal me. Heal all those who are entrusted to my care. You can do it. Lord, help my unbelief.

US West Trip 080