Matthew 8...the story of the centurion. If you forget, go here: Matthew 8:5-13
I love this story. Most days, Mass is a blur of chasing/teaching/glaring (yes, sometimes I do) but at this point in every service I try to be present and prayerful. I cannot believe that we have the gift of saying it each and every time we prepare to receive Jesus in the Eucharist! I, for one, identify with the centurion.
1. This man, who tells Jesus, "And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come here,’ and he comes; and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” is a lot like ME. I supervise many people every day. I have responsibility to make sure they are in line and working toward the common good.
2. This man loves his servant so. He takes the time and risks the embarrassment of being turned down in order to find healing. I don't think he does it because he would lose a servant and have more to do. I think he truly wants this man, who works with and for him, to have an end to suffering. He becomes the servant when he takes it upon himself to ask for healing of another who is so close to him.
3. He goes directly to Jesus and asks for healing. We can do this too! What an amazing gift, again, that we get to take our cares and concerns, or those of our loved ones (and even those we don't know) to Him who can do all things.
"I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof"...on any given day, if Jesus were to walk through the door, I would not be terribly embarrassed but, that being said, I would rather entertain Him on the porch. Rowdy kids, dishes to do, dinner cooking, lots of irons in the fire. It might be easier to just call to Him from afar.
Yesterday was a day when I would have been both embarrassed and ashamed to have Him come anywhere near. Same kids, same house, different me. Hormonally (or something to do with my mental stability) I have a few days a year when I just fail to live like a normal human. I am sad, angry, withdrawn. I feel despair that is so deep that I don't even want to breathe, let alone deal with other people or things.
Because I am always learning and maturing, I didn't just "sit with it" (genius advice from one too many therapists). Instead of asking for healing from afar, I went with my broken spirit right up to His house and, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, they were in the middle of Holy Hour. I took all of my cares, my sadness and my despair and I laid it all out to Him. I acknowledged my unworthiness even to be under His roof, let alone Him coming under mine.
Like the centurion, my crying out was heard. I didn't magically leave humming a happy tune (have you noticed, I'm not that person) but I was given the gift of peace. It didn't change my house or my family but it did give me the grace I need to move forward again.
How good is our God? By acknowledging our unworthiness, we are able to move closer to Him and gain the grace we need to continue. He doesn't want perfect or even really good. He just wants us to try and when we fail, to ask for healing. It really is that simple. How blessed.
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