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by Friar Jim Van Vurst, O.F.M.
Over the years, humans have come to realize that such a simple thing
as physical touch is necessary for survival. Infants who are abandoned and not touched,
cuddled or embraced simply do not develop normally. Though they are fed and changed, if
they do not experience touch, they miss something essential in their development that,
once missed, is nearly impossible to make up for. The old telephone advertisement urged
everyone to “reach out and touch someone.” When a celebrity passes by, people
surge to touch that person almost as if glamour or fame might rub off on them. To shake
the hand of a president is considered a great privilege.
Tennessee Williams, the famous playwright, wrote insightfully, “Demons
can be driven out of the heart by the touch of one hand on another.” Who would doubt
the healing powers of a mother’s touch or kiss on her child’s wound or hurt?
Nursing homes now have animals, like rabbits and puppies, that, when placed on the lap
of a resident, bring about a lowering of blood pressure and often induce a warm, relaxed
feeling.
The gospels point out clearly that touch played a very important role
in Jesus’ life and ministry. It was part of his very humanness and interactions with
people. Early in Mark’s Gospel, after the first healings of Jesus, we read that “large
numbers of people followed Jesus...he had cured many and as a result, those who had diseases
were pressing upon Jesus to touch him” (Mk 3:7ff). In the Gospel of Mark, there are
10 occasions when Jesus is touching or being touched by others.
It is worth noting, however, that it was his very touch and the touch
of others that got Jesus into trouble with religious leaders of his day. Religiously speaking,
to be touched by a sinner was to be made unclean, as if a sinner’s disease or unworthiness
could be transferred by contact. However, Jesus seemed to welcome the touch of sinners
and those outside the law. When the sinful woman came to Jesus during his meal with the
leading Pharisee, she washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them with her hair
(Lk 7:37ff). The Pharisee was scandalized and angered by Jesus’ act. But for Jesus
it was a beautiful moment because of the woman’s love and her repentance. On another
occasion, Jesus was approached by a leper who begged, “Lord, if you will, you can
make me clean.” And we read that Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and
the leper was cured (Mt 8:3ff). In each of these cases, Jesus did not fear becoming unclean.
Jesus healed with forgiveness flowing from him to the woman and the leper. We see this
again when Jesus takes the hand of the little 12-year-old daughter of Jairus, and she is
restored to life (Mt 9:23-26). Again, it is his touch.
These gospel scenes mean all the more to us given our belief in the real
presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. We believe, as Jesus himself told us, that the Eucharist—the
consecrated bread and wine—is really Jesus. It is not flesh as you and I have. Rather,
it is the flesh and blood of the glorified and resurrected Jesus that we believe in and
receive at Communion. It is Jesus who can be present all over the world but, at the same
time, present in every person gathered in a large cathedral or tiny chapel. Imagine what
this means. We not only read about and gasp at the goodness of Jesus who touched and welcomed
people’s touch. We actually experience it when we receive Communion. We receive into
our hand or on our tongue the same, though glorified, Jesus. And we can receive him daily,
if we wish. We don’t have to sigh and wish we could have been near Jesus when he
was physically on earth. He is here right now with us. We don’t have to travel to
Rome or the Holy Land for this privilege. No, Jesus is right near us in our churches.
We are not able to touch the moon or the stars. It matters not, for we
have a privilege far beyond that. We touch the very person of Jesus in the Eucharist. And
even though we pray, “Lord, I am not worthy” beforehand, we can also hear
Jesus say, “Come to me all you who are tired and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Mt
11:28).
Readers
respond to Friar Jacks musings on St.
Francis’ Prayer Before the Crucifix.
Dear Friar Jack: Thanks a lot for your newsletters; I look forward
to receiving them. They are always so interesting and helpful. I have a crucifix of
St. Francis hanging in my bedroom but I never knew what it represents. Now I will look
at it in another way. St. Francis is one of my favorite saints. I have lived
in a parish run by Franciscan fathers for a long time, and they were a great help in my
spiritual life. The prayer before the crucifix is wonderful; I have printed it so
that I will say it often too. Thanks once again. Terez
Dear Friar Jack: Having seen this cross in person, I can really
appreciate how Francis and Clare must have felt when they prayed before it. I find that
if I combined the two prayers of these great saints that I bring to my Franciscan vocation
a truly well-rounded prayer. With Clare, I gaze upon Christ, consider Christ, contemplate
Christ. With Francis, I learn to understand how much God loves me and how to love the world
as God does. Together, I take contemplation into action. Thank you for your wonderful
insights into this prayer of St. Francis. Joy and Peace, Rosemarie
Dear Readers: I am spending three weeks traveling to the Philippines
(Jan. 25-Feb. 15) and preparing an article on inspiring cooperative projects between Christians
and Muslims in the southern Philippines (Zamboanga). Afterwards, I am revisiting the Manila
area where, as a young friar, I taught English literature to college-level Franciscan seminarians
between 1969 and 1972. I ask prayers from you, my readers, and promise that I will also
pray for you along the way. Let me also pledge that two or three Friar Jack E-spirations will
result from this trip. May God give us all peace and good health! Friar Jack
Send your feedback to friarjack@franciscanmedia.org.
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