Dear Readers,
Has this ever happened to you?
There you were, contentedly, peacefully reading when suddenly, without warning, one little word jumped off the page and slapped you in the face?
That very thing happened to me recently while reading the Magnificat magazine.
The daily Gospel was from Mark 1:40 in which Jesus encounters a leper who says, “If you wish, you can make me clean.” Jesus replies, “I do will it. Be made clean.”
Although the leper uses the word “wish,” in responding Jesus uses the word “will,” the word which so violently grabbed my attention.
The composition rule of “parallel construction” calls for the phrasing, “If you wish” followed by the response “I do wish.” Why would Jesus not use the same verb the leper used?
I’m certainly not an etymologist and my Greek is a little rusty (okay, okay, my Greek is non-existent), so I checked several different Bible translations and interpretations.
The Magnificat is based on the New American Bible translation.
The Word on Fire Bible uses the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition and has, “If you choose, you can make me clean,” with the reply, “I do choose. Be made clean!” From the Jerusalem Bible, we have, “If you want to, you can cure me,” with the response, “Of course I want to! Be cured!” All nicely parallelly constructed.
Perhaps the word switch in the New American Bible version is because to wish and to choose and to want are all fine and dandy but to wish, to choose, and to want are all very passive.
Despite what Jiminy Cricket recommends; dreams do not come true just by wishing upon a star; one must also take steps to facilitate a happy ending.
If I’m sitting on the couch watching Jeopardy and thinking, “I wish I had fried chicken for dinner,” I’ll only be having a couch potato for dinner if I don’t get up and do something to make that chicken materialize on the kitchen table. Action on my part is required.
St. Thomas Aquinas defined love as “to will the good of the other.”
If we authentically love others, we cannot stop at merely wanting good for them or wishing good for them; we must will it.
We are called to do whatever we can to help others live a good life and have a good life.
Jesus demonstrates this when He tells the leper He not only wants to cure him, He wills to cure him, and He does.
It’s very interesting to note that the leper doesn’t begin his conversation with Jesus by asking to be healed.
He doesn’t start with, “Please cure me!” Instead, he leads with a statement instead of a question; the leper prefaces his request with a firm pronouncement of his faith.
When we go to God with petitionary prayers, we should always begin, as the leper did, with an acclamation of our faith and only then make our request. Matthew 21:22 says, “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask in prayer.” We can’t rush right into our wish list without first letting God know we believe He can do anything.
My new friend “Will” was not finished with me yet. He wanted to make sure I reminded you that he is not just a verb, he can also be a noun.
For example, he can be the legal document specifying who gets your earthly assets upon your demise.
The will is always the main character in the suspenseful denouement in Agatha Christie mysteries where Poirot reveals the identity of the villain during the reading of the will.
But more importantly, my forceful semantics friend told me, a will refers to “a deliberate desire or plan,” as in God’s will.
Prayer does not change God; it’s meant to change us.
Prayer is meant to open our hearts to the acceptance of God’s will . . . Did the leper already know that?
Perhaps that’s the crux of the story?
This Lent, I’m determined to do the difficult work of discerning God’s will for me on a daily basis, prefacing my petitionary prayers by professing my faith, and remembering that actions speak louder than words (or wants or wishes), even if it means the occasional slap in the face to get my attention!
Linda E. Kelly is a member of Blessed Sacrament Parish in Madison.