No Body but Yours

One of the Wonders of Ministry

I love being a pastor for many reasons, not least because of how often I get a front-row seat to wonders.

The following wonder happened on October 17, 2023. I share it with you to bless you (with the permission of the family involved).

Open your eyes, friends. Be ready. God is everywhere.

Dedication, Prayer, and Anointing

We stood together in an upstairs classroom where the church that I pastor meets.

There were ten of us. Foster Mom and Foster Dad, two boys (siblings), two girls (also siblings), two pastors (not siblings), my wife, and me.

We were there to pray over the girls - new to Foster Mom and Foster Dad's home - and dedicate them to the Lord.

We had done the same with the boys several months earlier. Rescued from a chaotic household, they were chaos when they arrived in our midst. Rambunctious, a bit scared, and skittish with adults, we anointed them with oil and prayed that the Spirit might work the magic of the kingdom into their bones.

Gracious God has answered, mercifully answered, our prayers. Every week they walk in with their heads held higher, more secure, more ready to meet greeting with confident greeting.

"Lookin' good this morning, Big B!" I'll say to the older brother when they walk in. He beams with pride and slaps me five as he marches through the doubledoors and down the hall to his classroom.

This morning the boys are rambunctious as ever, but it's different now. They're responsive to us, present, engaged. Baby girl is in Foster Mom's arms crying while her big sister turns pirouettes in her princess dress as she plays happily alongside Big B. 

We ask how we can pray. Foster Mom and Foster Dad give us some detail on their situation and we gather around. I pull a small vial of anointing oil out of my pocket.

The anointing with oil I consider one of the most sacred functions of my office. I do not believe it is merely "symbolic." I am far too sacramental for that. I believe that Christ by the power of the Spirit claims the oil for his use, much as he claims the waters of baptism, much as he claims bread and wine. Much, indeed, as he claims our lives. I believe the anointing with oil both effects and seals what it signifies. I believe the Risen One binds and looses as we smear it across foreheads and rub it into skin.

I anointed baby girl. And her sister. And we prayed fervent prayers over them. We believe by dominical utterance that those prayers are already answered (Mk 11:24).

We turned and asked for an update on the boys and their situation. Foster Mom and Foster Dad gave us a few more details, and then we turned and asked the boys if we could pray for them again.

The First Wonder

I honestly wondered what they'd say. The first time we did it, they squirmed and writhed and seemed uncomfortable with the proceedings. And why shouldn't they be? To be part of the congregation is to be immersed in strangeness. It is only because we have grown accustomed to that strangeness that we miss the wild absurdity of what we do—namely, gathering weekly in the confidence that a dead Jewish man is raised and is Lord and God and is also mysteriously present in bread and cup which we name his Body and Blood and then eat and drink with joy.

It's weird.

It's all weird.

We forget this to our detriment.

This time, however, and somewhat to my surprise, Big B shot back a quick affirmative. And as I knelt in front of him to pray, he looked me dead in the eye and said, "Could you pray that my mom and dad would make better decisions?"

That nearly broke me. That a five year old should have to carry that weight.

The world we live in…

So I did just that. Smeared oil on his and his brother's foreheads and prayed the filling and preserving power of the Spirit upon them both, and also upon their mom and dad, that all the promises of God which are yes in Christ would be "amen'ed" in the flourishing of their family. 

As a pastor, I have to tell you, I live for moments like this. Moments when the veil is pulled back and we see things the way they really are. Moments when the Mysteries suddenly take shape in front of our faces. Moments when we know that we are standing with Christ on hallowed ground.

Now if that moment had been the only such moment, it would have been a great morning. But it wasn't.

The Second Wonder

When I finished, Big B opened his eyes and said, "Can I pray for you?" 

Says Jesus:

Whoever receives one of these little children in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me, receives not Me but Him who sent Me… (Mk 9:37, ESV)

Who was I to refuse?

And now I am shooting a quick - if somewhat startled - affirmative to Big B (all praise to the table-turning God), who dips his finger in the vial of oil and smears the sign of the cross on my forehead and the foreheads of his little bro and the two girls along with Foster Mom and Foster Dad and the two pastors who are not siblings and also my wife and prays God's blessing over all of us.

Left me speechless. 

Just speechless.

Congregational life is a place of signs and wonders. A place where, among other things, the lonely are set in families and kids from chaotic homes suddenly become priests of the Lord and ministers of our God. A place where the words of Teresa of Avila become true in surprising ways:

Christ has no body but yours
No hands, no feet on earth but yours.
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world.
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good.
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands.
Yours are the feet.
Yours are the eyes.
You are his body.

Even Big B.

Thanks be to God.

Note: Originally posted on Andrew Arndt's substack on 10/16/2023.