The Doctor Is In

Sunday of the 4^th Week in Ordinary Time (B)

Deuteronomy 18:15-20; Psalm 95:8-9; 1 Corinthians 7:32-35; Mark 1:21-28

Several years ago, I noticed I was tiring easily and my jaw hurt when I exercised. My wife, an ICU nurse for many years, advised me to take a stress test. I knew why; I have a strong family history of heart disease. But I’d seen a doctor 25 years before, got prescriptions, changed my diet, and exercised. OK, so I forgot the meds now and then, ate some unhealthy stuff, and exercised less. Still, I wasn’t that bad. So, I ignored her advice. When I didn’t improve, she ignored me, and scheduled me for a stress test. Annoyed, I went, just to prove her wrong. The results shocked me; the doctor said I was 95% blocked and needed open-heart surgery immediately. Later, the surgeon said that if I hadn’t had the surgery, I would have died any time over the next several months.

What does this have to do with the readings? Well, let’s recap what we heard. First, Moses told the people that a prophet like him would come and speak with the authority given by God, and they were to listen. Then, the psalmist urged them not to harden their hearts (close their minds) when they heard him. Next, St. Paul spoke of anxiety, worldly and spiritual, and how easily we get distracted from what matters. Finally, Mark told us that Jesus taught with an authority unlike anything the people heard before. What our translation glosses over, but Mark is clear about in the original language, is that the people were disturbed by his words, while the demon hid his fear behind defiance.

All this raises some challenging questions. Ask yourself: Do I ever refuse to listen to the word of God, despite its authority? When my conscience bothers me, do I ever close my mind by ignoring it or giving in to some distraction? Do I ever feel that worldly anxiety St. Paul talks about? Do I ever grow defiant and want God to just leave me alone?

Answering these questions is like taking a spiritual stress test, and we may not want to do it, but it’s important that we do, because sin is like spiritual heart disease. We know about our “family history” of sin, and that God offers us many graces to protect against it. But we also know that, as the struggles of daily life wear on us year after year, we can get distracted and grow lax in our practice. Unfortunately, like heart disease, sin is a patient, silent killer; it takes whatever we give it, and its effects build up over time. There are symptoms, like refusing to challenge ourselves or grow in our faith, dulling our conscience, preferring worldly concerns over spiritual ones, and so on, but they’re easy to deny, ignore, or explain away. Again though, like heart disease, that comes at a cost; it can get to the point where sin has cut us off completely from the grace of God.

Still, diagnosis is one thing, treatment another. The authority for our body is a doctor; for our soul, Christ, the Divine Physician. There’s an old saying that the Church isn’t a shrine for saints, it’s a hospital for sinners; well, here we are, and the doctor is in. His treatment is simple: Meet regularly with him through his assigned specialist in the Confessional, keep to the diet of spiritual reading and Holy Communion, consult Him daily in prayer, practice works of mercy, and continue to examine our conscience. That is putting into action the listening God asked through Moses, the openness the psalmist prayed for, and the adherence to the things of the Lord that St. Paul urged us to have.

I said the treatment was simple, I didn’t say easy. We know what we have to do; the key is our resolve. I said earlier that as life goes on, we’re tempted to grow lax. What will be different this time? Two things: First, knowing that Christ is with us every step, through the grace of the sacraments, prayer, and contemplation. As the gospel showed us, his grace is more than sufficient to deal with any of our demons. Second, knowing that everything God does is done out of his infinite love for us, and that sometimes, love has to be painful. Parents know that; for love of their children, they sometimes have to say things kids don’t want to hear. If that’s true, how much more so for our Heavenly Father! Every prophet He sent did it; Christ did it. We might wish he didn’t love us so much while we’re going through it, but remember, what matters is the results, how much better we are in the end. I never got so many compliments as when I came back from my surgery. People would stop me after Mass and say, “Deacon, what did you do? You don’t look nearly as gray as you used to!” Similarly, we know we’re on the right track when someone looks at us and says, “What is it about them? What do they have that I don’t? Whatever it is, I want it!” It’s that joy, that freedom that comes with the chains of sin being broken off of us.

While recovering in the hospital, a woman who had the same surgery years earlier used to come and help me walk the floor. She once told me, “Remember, you will always be a heart patient.” That’s true. I have to stick with the treatment; there is no cure for heart disease. Here, though, the analogy between heart disease and sin breaks down, for even though we will always be sinners, if we stick with the treatment, there is a cure for death: Christ.