I wish you all joy in the Lord. I will say it again: all joy be yours. Let your magnanimity be manifest to all. The Lord is near; have no anxiety, but in everything make your requests known to God in prayer and petition with thanksgiving. Then the peace of God, which is beyond our utmost human understanding, will keep guard over your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 4:4-7)
Prayer is at the heart of healing; without direct and immediate communion with God, from whom all healing springs, there can be no return to health, no knowledge of wholeness. All healing comes to the creature by the grace of God working through the power of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit's properties are manifold: he is the Lord and giver of life, and also the Spirit of truth, our Advocate who will be with us forever (John 14:26). He is sent in the name of Jesus and he is to teach us everything, recalling to our minds all that Jesus had told the disciples (John 14:26). He is sent to us by the Son from the Father - he issues from the Father as the Spirit of truth - and he bears eternal witness to the nature and the work of the Son (John 15:26). The Spirit of truth not only shows the world where right and wrong and judgement lie (John 16:8), but he also guides those who are open to his fellowship into all the truth; at the present time we, like the disciples, are not able to assimilate all that Jesus could tell us, for the burden is still too great (John 16:12-13). The Spirit of truth does not speak on his own authority, but tells only what he hears, and he informs us of the things that are to be. Above all, he glorifies the Son, for everything that he makes known to us he draws from what is the Son's (John 16:14). In prayer we draw close to the Holy Spirit; in fact although we feel that we are the initiator of our prayers, it is God the Holy Spirit who is the foundation of our praying, the "ground of our beseeching", as Dame Julian of Norwich puts in (in chapter 41 of Revelations of Divine Love). St Paul reminds us that we do not even know how we ought to pray - what it is right to pray for - but through our inarticulate groans, the Spirit himself is pleading for us, and God who searches our inmost being knows what the Spirit means (Rom. 8:26-7), These groans may refer to the gift of ecstatic utterance ("tongues"), but they are even more relevant to the tortured movement into the unknown of the bereft soul groping in the agony of its perplexity.
Prayer is as essential to the well-being of the soul as breathing is to the life of the body. The life-giving power of the Holy Spirit animates the "inner man" which in turn transforms it into the vis medicatrix naturae, the healing force of nature, that restores and renews the physical body. Unfortunately the awareness of unredeemed man is little better than that of a sleep-walker; he is attracted and hypnotized by the surface glitter of daily existence at the expense of the deeper realities of life. In the majority of instances, some immediate crisis of menacing proportions is needed to awaken him to reality, and then he becomes aware of the voice of the Holy Spirit addressing him through his own spirit. The Parable of the Prodigal Son is the immortal paradigm of this awakening to reality: the profligate comes to himself when he sits in penury among the pigs he is tending, because he is at last attentive to the voice of the Spirit within. This voice makes him review his past life with ruthless honesty. Only then can he work towards a recovery of that which has been squandered away in thoughtless debauchery. We listen best to the Spirit of truth when all the usual distractions have departed from us - as they do when we are in dire straits. They are our good-time friends, like Jesus' disciples who bade a hasty retreat at the time of his betrayal and crucifixion.
Our prayer life starts in the usual run of events with petition and it soon extends to confession. When we pray to God for help in our various difficulties, we are not informing him of anything he does not know. As Jesus says, "Our Father knows what your needs are before you ask him" (Mat. 6:8). Indeed, he knows the intimate nature of our problems far better than we can understand them, for the Lord does not see as man sees; men judge by appearances, but the Lord judges by the heart (1 Sam. 16:7).
The question arises as to what God's position is in relation to healing. I personally do not doubt that he wills wholeness for all his creatures, but that disease and suffering may sometimes be necessary for wholeness to be attained. The nature of evil's origin, as we have already seen, is a mystery; the great monotheistic religions - Judaism, Christianity and Islam - all agree that God is the sole source of all that is created, whether visible in this world or invisible in the world of psychic relationships. In Isaiah 45:6-7 we read the important doctrine: "I am the Lord, there is no other; I make the light, I create darkness, author alike of prosperity and trouble. I, the Lord, do all these things." God himself is, as the greatest mystics have learned, beyond all description, even the categories of good and evil. In his great creative act he has laid the creature open both to beneficial forces that will promote health and happiness, and destructive forces whose end is suffering and annihilation. Which of these is activated depends on the choice, the essential free will of the creature. In our own little world it would seem that the more intricate creatures have evolved from simpler forms of life by genetic mutation and the process of natural selection, whereby those forms most fitted to a particular environment have survived over their less adaptable relatives. The law in the animal world has been disease and mortality long before the development of the human species. The great break-through this human evolution heralded was the emergence of a creature with enormous intellectual potential, able to reflect on himself and his environment, which he could manipulate in full measure, and open to the knowledge of divine reality through his conscious co-operation with the Holy Spirit. In the lower forms of creation that Spirit is an unconscious life-giving power, whereas in man the same Spirit is an agent of sanctification, whereby the inwardly cleansed person may aspire to spiritual knowledge and eventually share in the very being of God, to quote the magnificent text of 2 Peter 1:4 once more.
It is my personal belief that were man fully alive to the creative potentialities of the Holy Spirit, he would not only attain personal health but also bring healing to the rest of the world's creatures. Conversely, when the human psyche breaks down and becomes destructive in tendency, it exerts a disintegrating effect on the other, simpler forms of life. This view has biblical overtones: once man departs from God's grace after the Fall (in Genesis 3), he becomes increasingly alienated from the animal life around him until enmity between the human and the beast is the rule of natural life rather than its exception. On the other hand, the messianic kingdom envisaged in Isaiah 11:6-9 is one of idyllic peace between the various animals with a little child at the head of the procession, leading them all. The little child is a symbol, a sacrament in fact, of a beneficent, completely harmless race of people who give love and service to those around them in marked contrast to the predatory, selfish way of life of unredeemed, unconverted human beings. Therefore, if we pledge ourselves to the preservation of life and the fostering of goodwill among people, we will be open to the healing power of God. If, however, we persist in self-centred, predatory attitudes, we will become vulnerable to the darkness of God, which assumes a terrifyingly winnowing power when it is separated from the divine mercy. Fortunately the process of suffering and destruction can be reversed when we repent and come to ourselves once more (as did the Prodigal Son), confessing our sins to God. The ensuing absolution will set in motion a new life tending to greater wholeness, provided the will is now dedicated to prayer and service instead of the selfish indulgence of the past.
It is the atoning work wrought by the life and death of Christ that assures me categorically of God's will for healing of all his creatures. But his gift of free will precludes any enforcement of his will in the lives of his creatures. Here lies the inevitable limitation set to God's power by his love and courtesy for his rational creatures: he is a father rather than a dictator. Love gives up its very substance for its friend, but it does not overwhelm him with its concern. If commitment is on the one side of the coin of love, freedom blazes emphatically on the other. Love is not clinically detached, neither is it passionately possessive: detachment starves, whereas possessiveness smothers. To find the middle way between these two extremes of human conduct is the great quest of our lives; it is the work of prayer that sheds light on the path of love and illuminates our groping movement towards wholeness.
Petitionary prayer starts with a list of requests made to God with the innocent trust of a child, and as such it is beautiful and in no way to be derided. Sometimes the petition is granted most splendidly, but on other occasions nothing seems to happen, at least as far as we are aware. If we persist in the spiritual life and are not discouraged to the point of quitting by what we consider to be its failure - or more probably our own failure - a deeper consciousness of God gradually dawns upon the questing soul. We begin to understand that the love of God is the beginning and end of all mature prayer, and that the great work is to ease the personal self, or ego, from the centre of our scene, and to set in its place the spiritual self, or soul, with its point of direct contact with God. At this juncture the will of God begins to take precedence in our lives over our own naked will, which is so heavily dominated by our selfish desires that it cannot know what is ultimately best either for us or those we love and serve.
To desire a return to health so as to be a better servant of God would seem on the surface to be entirely praiseworthy, but there may also be undercurrents of self-will and resentment lurking deeper down. In an interesting fashion these attitudes may delay healing no less emphatically than a frank ambivalence to health due to fearfulness or a lack of commitment, such as we considered in the case of the man who had been paralysed for many years before Jesus confronted him directly with his divided mind and made him decide once and for all. It is possible to be all set to do God's work of reclaiming the world from sin, and yet to be so dictatorial about the way the work is to be done that God is slowly excluded from the transaction while one begins to identify oneself subtly with him. We remember in this connection the warning of Jesus,
Not everyone who calls me "Lord, Lord" will enter the kingdom of Heaven, but only those who do the will of my Heavenly Father. When that day comes, many will say to me, Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, cast out devils in your name, and in your name perform many miracles? Then I will tell them to their face, "I never knew you; out of my sight, you and your wicked ways!"
(Mat. 7:21-3)
The essence of true discipleship to Christ is obedience to the Father and love of the neighbour, who is everyone in our vicinity.
And so prayer, especially in times of adversity, moves from personal petition to full dedication. There is in the end only one petition worthy of man and God, and that repeatedly until the end of time, "Not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Mat. 26:39). This supreme petition is not simply an affirmation of calm confidence in God's all-embracing providence; it is also the cry of the stricken soul, wounded to the very core of its being beyond human comprehension or creaturely comfort. There is no assurance here, only a desperate self-affirmation in the face of overwhelming psychic darkness. This affirmation of personal integrity is made real by the presence of God, who is never nearer to us than in times of emergency; this intensified awareness of God is a result of our own naked, yet heightened, self awareness. God is, of course, always present, but we all too often exclude him from the field of our inner vision because we are entranced by the passing show of mortal existence. Imminent disaster concentrates the mind remarkably and has a clearing effect on our usually blurred spiritual vision.
When we are in stillness and rapt dedication before God, contemplating the void from which all being flows, we are open in the fullness of our own being to his presence, whose nature is love. His Spirit then infuses us and sets in motion a healing of a vastly different order to a mere physical relief of suffering. Our minds become re-created in the image of the divine mind, and we start to do the work we were born to accomplish. Similarly, when we are in contemplative communion with God and, at the same time, open in deepest concern to the presence of anyone who is in pain, the Holy Spirit infusing us flows out in love and healing to that person. This is the basis of intercessory prayer, perhaps the apogee of all spiritual healing. Provided the one interceded for is not closed to the grace of God through pride or resentment, he will receive a blessing from God by way of the silent prayer of the person who intercedes for him in the presence of God. It is often the case that the most powerful intercessors are those who are emotionally distant from the people they are helping; emotional involvement can interfere with the Holy Spirit, even deflecting his work of mercy and healing. On the other hand, a warm, though unattached, compassion can effect remarkable healing work through intercession no less than by direct human contact. In this creative attitude of mind the person places himself at God's service instead of being the dominant focus and demanding healing according to what he, in his ignorance, believes is most beneficial for the one in need. We function best spiritually when we are most humble, admitting quite frankly our ignorance and placing ourselves unconditionally at God's service. In the words of the Blessed Virgin at the time of the annunciation, "Here am I, I am the Lord's servant; as you have spoken, so be it" (Luke 1:38).
Should we therefore not make specific supplications to God? Any dogmatic answer to this question tells us more about the one who gives his opinion than about God's providence. The Holy Spirit will direct us according to the situation; what is of great importance is to get oneself out of the way and be a chaste instrument for God's work. In the celebrated prayer of St Francis of Assisi, the petition that we should be made instruments of his peace, and that we should sow love, pardon, faith, hope, light and joy, is the essence of all our spiritual aspirations. When we can, by the tenor of our lives, manifest some of these qualities - which are in fact fruits of the Holy Spirit - we will receive such healing as is right for us at that time in our lives and give it to others both by direct communication and by distant intercession.
The value of making definite petitions, which is very much the youthful approach to God, is that it centres our own minds on our needs. It has a concentrating effect and leads us to a deeper stillness. In the same way the act of contrition tells God nothing he does not already know, but it serves the valuable psychological and spiritual function of bringing much previously unacknowledged material into a fully aware focus where it can be viewed, in calm confidence, in the conscious presence of God. The additional presence of a trusted friend in this transaction, as in the sacrament of penance, can augment this conscious awareness and help to assure the penitent of God's forgiveness, provided always the will to change is also active. There can be no healing or forgiveness until we are prepared to play our full part in the work. As one grows in the life of prayer, so one's mind becomes more perfectly concentrated on the love of God with the result that all petitions are focused mystically on that timeless moment of union with him. In that space of time, which is in fact outside the temporal sequence, all the requests we have to make, whether personal or intercessory, are transfigured into the supreme petition that we may all be one in God by growing individually and communally into human maturity, measured by nothing less than the full stature of Christ (Eph. 4:13). In this way we concentrate less upon what is disturbed and ill and more on the whole person, whether ourself or someone else.
In healing prayer there are two pitfalls to be avoided: an over-emphasis on bodily cure on the one hand and a virtual dismissal of the body's claims to healing on the other. There is no doubt that a true healing serves to re-create the whole person on a higher level of integration than the clamant ego, which functions on a basis of selfish expediency. While we are rooted in the physical desires, we are imprisoned in a mortal body whose end cannot be other than one of increasing decrepitude that moves inevitably towards death. It is only as the physical desires are transcended that the body can experience its first intimation of resurrection. As St Paul would put it:
Those who live on the level of our lower nature have their outlook formed by it, and that spells death; but those who live on the level of the spirit have the spiritual outlook, and that is life and peace. For the outlook of the lower nature is enmity with God; it is not subject to the law of God; indeed it cannot be: Those who live on such a level cannot possibly please God. (Rom. 8:5-8)
The lower nature, as we have already seen, is not intrinsically evil, for it too is created by God - without it we could not do our daily work. But it is centred on such basic impulses as immediate survival and the satisfaction of its animal desires to the virtual exclusion of all else. The lower nature is an essential servant but a death-dealing master: it, if unchecked, would kill not only others in conflict with it, but eventually itself also. It is for this reason that an emphasis on prayer for bodily restoration is ill-conceived. The right priority is for healing of the entire personality according to God's will.
But it not infrequently happens that a startling bodily healing is the means whereby a previously spiritually dead person comes to life; indeed, the resurrection miracles of Christ are to be seen as much in this light as in terms of a mere prolongation of life and postponement of death. If we were to exclude the physical healings from the Gospel accounts, we would have little to show of Jesus' burning compassion as well as his charismatic presence. It is said in Mark 1:14-15 that after John the Baptist had been arrested Jesus came into Galilee proclaiming the Gospel of God: "The time has come; - the kingdom of God is upon you; repent, and believe the Gospel." In this respect Jesus is both the messenger and the message. The healings of Jesus were signs of the imminence of the Kingdom. The body, while not to be equated with the whole personality, is neither to be denigrated, let alone dismissed. The Word did not disdain the flesh of incarnation any more than the womb of the Blessed Virgin. Since human awareness is often limited to the flesh, it is right that in most instances healing should commence on a purely physical level. Nor need this healing be dramatically charismatic; a cure based on orthodox medical practice can be equally radical in its deeper repercussions to one who is attaining a degree of spiritual awareness. The dedication and skill of the doctors and the compassion and care of the nursing staff may make deep inroads into the previously obtuse awareness of a patient who comes to himself while in hospital.
Some of the most outstanding testimonies to the power of prayer are seen in patients who are undergoing major surgical procedures. The patient seems often to be endued with an inner strength and outer resilience that amazes those who are tending him. Recovery is often remarkably rapid considering the gravity of the condition, and the amount of pain and distress is much less than would have been expected. The basis of this prayer, it should be reiterated, is not that there should be a rapid recovery but simply that the Spirit of God should infuse the one in need and fill him with renewed life and purpose. The end is God's will, not ours; we are the means whereby the will of God can be actualized. "In stillness and in staying quiet, there lies your strength" (Isa. 30:15); in this instance the Israelites chose obsessive political manipulation rather than calm trust in God - the essence of the faith that heals - and they were mercilessly routed by their foes. Activism is the bane of humanistic endeavour; to do something is almost a means of self-justification, and the result is more often dissatisfaction than constructive work. Activity, by contrast, is the way of the Spirit-infused person: his first action is prayer, our most noble work, which is followed by the inflow of purpose and the calm, carefully considered assessment of the task in hand. In other words, faith is followed by good works in which the divine purpose guides and strengthens the human initiative. This divine-human collaboration is the essence of all constructive activity and is the culmination as well as the fulfilment of the healing process. In Jesus Christ the two natures, the divine and the human, are perfectly united and aligned, so that he can proclaim, and at the same time make manifest, the imminence of the kingdom of God; here healing is both complete and universal. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isa. 55:9).
In the deeper approach to healing prayer an especially, plausible reaction is the temptation to feel ashamed that one is so limited by the body in its affliction as to be virtually impotent, whereas if one were truly spiritual one could lift oneself above the distress of the moment to eternal communion with the divine. This is a dangerous attitude that smacks of gnosticism, a heresy that exalts the spirit which is good, while denigrating the body which, being material, is considered evil. There may well be mental, meditative techniques that can lift a person above bodily awareness, but except as a temporary expedient to transcend severe pain while a special service has to be undertaken, these are not to be recommended as a way towards healing. Christ himself did not flinch from a full participation in the psychic darkness that envelops this world any more than he evaded the physical agony of the cross. By immersing himself freely in the pain and darkness of the world he lifted it up and commenced its healing as well as the healing of the countless millions of creatures bowed down under that darkness. We too have to wrestle with the angel of apparent darkness, as Jacob did in his mysterious encounter with the divine presence in the depths of the night, before we can claim our blessing: a transformed consciousness and an ability to serve God and man in a completely new awareness. This awareness is no longer limited by the ego with its desires of personal recompense, but is now transpersonal with the desire for universal healing. One does not lift oneself above one's affliction so much as go patiently and with courage through it, so that the thing of darkness which was previously of forbidding intensity is now accepted as part of oneself. Only then can a healing be initiated that lasts.
This acceptance of adversity, which is very much a part of the healing process, is not to be confused with a passive, spineless resignation to what is believed to be the will of God. Acceptance looks positively for healing, seeing in the words of St Paul in Romans 8:28, that all things work together for good for those who love God. Each moment of life, terrifying as it may appear on the surface, has an underlying value to be gauged in the future when our vision is no longer clouded by the confusion of the present, but can encompass the larger scheme of spiritual growth. In this exalted frame of mind we can work together with God in the transmutation of evil to good rather than merely depend on God to release us from the evil around us. Such a release would be at most only a temporary expedient, and in due course the darkness would return, persisting until it was encountered in faith and courage in the name of the Lord. He is with us always, to the end of time (Mat. 28:20), and in his presence there is the consummation of all things to the divine essence. It is in this spirit that prayer works most perfectly and restores all that is disfigured and malaligned to the divine image in which it was originally created.
The man of prayer is a sacrament of the newly risen race of people who will know God in the depths of their being. In the words of Jeremiah 31:33: "This is the covenant which I shall make with Israel after those days, says the Lord; I will set my law within them and write it on their hearts; I will become their God and they shall become my people." They will no longer need to teach one another to know God, for all of them, high and low alike, will know him in their cleansed souls, now in direct communion with the Most High. Thus prayer that starts as a simple conversation with God in child-like trust, broadens and deepens to a complete self-giving to God in which an inward renewal is attained. This puts all our mundane conceptions of healing into the class of childish demands as compared with the total healing that God has in store for us. But every step on the way has its own validity and is not to be derided, any more than the view of life we had when we were young is to be dismissed as worthless as we attain the greater wisdom of life's experience. The rungs of the ladder on which we have ascended to the heights are all precious in themselves and should be blessed in retrospect as we move ever upwards on the path of charity that leads to God himself. His Son is indeed the way that we follow to the glorious end, which is the beatific vision.