Maybe I’m weird, but I like spending time in doctor’s offices, confession lines in churches, auto repair shops, prison cells, and support groups of various kinds. It’s refreshing to be with people who humbly admit something is wrong and forthrightly set out on a path toward a solution. When we ignore what is off kilter, we become alone and fragile. In places where people are honest and hopeful about brokenness, sturdy if subtle fellowship usually ensues.
Consider the image we see of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark. “...they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by a demon. The whole town was gathered at the door.” The entire human community is afflicted in various ways, and so it gradually forms a strange new community around Jesus. The healer from Nazareth is like a sun of health around which orbits a throng of humanity absorbing his healing rays. These blessed souls can’t fix themselves and become healthy, and they know it. But they have found in him the living source of all imaginable healing.
It’s the Church, isn’t it? A sin-sick community gathered and healed is what happens at the beginning of every Mass. We shuffle in through the door from everywhere and announce that we are not okay, and we can’t fix it. In doing so, we are drawn into the orbit of the healing power of Christ — and into a renewed community with the whole human family. It’s nothing to fear or rush. Maybe we can even learn to enjoy more how good it is to be in such a happy place.
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