Project Canterbury

John Bull Series.

The Marks of the Lord Jesus.

London: Church Literature Association, no date.


Father Joyce had a number of sick folk to visit, and he was careful to see that they had the opportunity of having the Sacraments administered to them at regular intervals. From time to time he was called upon to administer the Sacrament of Holy Unction to. those who, humanly speaking, were unlikely to recover. It was by no means an uncommon experience, however, to find that this, the last of the Anointings of Holy Church (hence the title “Extreme” Unction), did result in the recovery of bodily health. Father Joyce would also, in the case of those who were not so seriously ill, lay his hands upon them with prayer for their recovery. Here again he realised that the promise, “They shall lay hands upon the sick and they shall recover,” was not given to the Apostles alone, but that our Lord Jesus Christ still heals the sick through the Ministry of his Church. In all these cases he insisted upon careful preparation on the part of the sick persons, and arranged for prayers to be offered on their behalf, and especially by those who had themselves received benefit by this means. The preparation consisted of prayer, confession of sins, and the receiving of Holy Communion. He taught the sick that if they prepared carefully they were sure to receive spiritual benefit, even though, the anointing or laying on of hands did not result in bodily recovery.

[2] One day he was visiting a woman who had been bedridden for several years, and to whom he had ministered since he had come to St. Silas’ parish. He found a copy of a daily paper lying on her bed. She had evidently been reading it, and her face wore a troubled expression.

“I wish you would tell me something, Father,” she said. “I have just been reading about the Mission of Healing at B——d. Is it true to say that if anyone has sufficient faith they can always be healed? For if it is so, I must be very faithless. You laid your hands upon me last year, but, though I shall never forget the strength and happiness that came to me afterwards, I am still suffering as much or more than I ever did. Is it my own fault? It cannot be that God has failed.”

“No,” replied the priest. “I am sure you need not accuse yourself of want of faith. It seems to me that you are one of those whom God allows to go on suffering for the sake of others. It is quite true to say that God wills health and not sickness. But it is also true that he calls some to a vocation of suffering and pain. It is a very real and useful vocation, and the Church on earth would be all the poorer without it.”

“I know you are always teaching us this, Father, but it is hard to understand. One feels so useless and such a burden to others.”

“Have you learnt anything since you have been ill?”

“Well, I don’t know that I have grown any more patient, but I have learnt one [2/3] lesson which I never understood before.”

“What is that?”

“I have learnt that God cares, and it’s worth while being ill to have learnt that alone.”

“You remind me,” said Father Joyce, “of a young man, a fine athlete, who was suddenly stricken down by paralysis. He had to lie flat on his back for seven years, and suffered such agonies of pain that towards the end he had injections of strychnine six days a week. He was so brave that his brothers, who constantly came to visit him and cheer him up, used to say as they came away that it was he who had cheered them up rather than they him. One who knew him well said of him: ‘Your brother’s face, as he lay in his chair at High Mass, preached the finest sermon I ever heard.’ Shortly before he died he was heard to say, ‘I thank God for this long illness.’ He evidently felt about his sufferings what St. Paul felt when he said, ‘I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.’ “

“What does that mean, Father? I’ve often wondered.”

“In the Revised Version of the Bible you will find the sentence is translated, ‘I bear branded on my body the marks of Jesus.’ Slaves in those days were often branded like cattle with the marks of their master, and St. Paul evidently meant that the sufferings which he had endured for Christ marked him as belonging to him. I think we may say that any pains or sufferings, whether of mind or body, if they are offered to God along with the sufferings of our Lord, are the marks of the [3/4] Lord Jesus. There have been those like St. Francis of Assisi, who have meditated so deeply and so lovingly upon the sufferings of our Lord, that, so great is the power of mind over body, the very marks of the Passion have become imprinted upon their hands and feet and side. But, quite apart from this, all suffering borne in this spirit is a mark that the sufferer belongs to the Lord Jesus.”

“You said just now that suffering could be useful; will you explain how this can be? It so often seems the reverse.”

“What I have said already may supply part, and the most important part, of my answer to that question. Anyone who is bearing in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus, and is growing more Christlike in character, cannot help being useful in this world of selfishness and sin. ‘What you are,’ it has been said, ‘thunders in my ears so loudly that I cannot hear what you say.’ Suffering of any kind, heroically borne in a Christian spirit, is a witness to the reality of the Christian Gospel more powerful than many sermons. A woman died the other day in a Home for Incurables who had been lying there for thirty-five years. She was a great sufferer, but no one ever heard her murmur or complain. In her earlier years she was by nature impatient, self-willed, and arrogant; but her sufferings were the means by which she attained a wonderful self-control. The matron of the Home told her friends that her cheerfulness was an inspiration to all who came into contact with her. Nor is this kind of influence confined to those who are brought [4/5] into immediate contact with the sufferer. Like prayer—and such suffering is a kind of prayer—it reaches out arms or power over the whole world.”

“What you have just said seems to have a bearing upon another passage in the Bible which has often puzzled me. I wish you would, explain it to me, Father. I have often meant to ask you to do so. I marked the place the other day to show you.”

Father Joyce read (R.V., Col. i. 24): “‘Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and fill up on my part that which is lacking by the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for his body’s sake, which is the Church.’ Yes,” he said, “this is one of the most valuable bits of teaching about sickness and suffering I know. St. Paul teaches us here how we can make our sufferings useful, ‘for his body’s sake, which is the Church.’ We are not to think that there can be any deficiencies in the personal sufferings of Christ nor in their atoning worth. There can be no repetition of Calvary. But Christ does still suffer in his body. ‘He hungers and thirsts, is homeless and naked, is sick or in prison, when any of his “members are in such a case. It is the privilege of the needy, the toiling, the afflicted . . . not only to find the power of the exalted Christ made perfect in their weakness, but to know that by that very weakness they bear their part in filling up the measure of his sufferings.’ And all this ‘for his body’s sake, which is the Church.’ Just as we pray for others ‘in his name,’ and say at the end of our prayers, ‘through Jesus Christ our Lord,’ so we may join [5/6] our sufferings to his and offer them on behalf of other people.”

“What a wonderful thought! How can I do it?”

“You can do it very simply. When you are in pain just lift up your heart to God and say to him: ‘I offer this pain on behalf of my dear ones, who are so kind to me; for So-and-so, who is sick; for the conversion of sinners in St. Silas’ parish or of the heathen abroad.’ In these ways—and you can easily think of many others—you can be filling up on your part that which is lacking of the afflictions of Christ in your flesh, for his body’s sake, which is the Church.”

“You have, indeed, given me something fresh to think about to-day, Father. How I wish that all sick people could realise this! It makes such a difference when you are laid upon a bed of sickness to know that you can after all be of use to somebody.”

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