Holy oil and kissing waves

Sometimes I change up the wording on my sign. I ditch “Ask me for a blessing” and try something new. The most recent example - “Prayers for healing with holy oil.”

I’d say most people don’t fully understand what holy oil is but perhaps can appreciate the physicality of it. We worship a God we cannot see, so anything sacred that is also tangible holds a certain appeal. At least that was my thinking in “advertising” holy oil when offering prayers on the street that day. 

In my Christian tradition, holy oil is simply olive oil blessed by a priest for the purpose of anointing the sick. It is a means of God’s grace, given for the healing of spirit, mind and body. (There is another type of holy oil that is blessed by a bishop and used in baptism as well as the ordination of priests, the consecration of bishops, and the coronation of monarchs - think Queen Elizabeth and King Charles. Just so you know.)

I use holy oil (of the healing variety) once a week at one of my church’s worship services. I dip my thumb in the oil and make the sign of the cross on the forehead of anyone seeking God’s healing, praying for the person as I do it:

“I lay my hands upon you in the Name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, beseeching him to uphold you and fill you with his grace, that you may know the healing power of his love. Amen.”

This ritual is often a moving experience for me. The person seeking prayer might lift their chin or lean forward ever so slightly to meet my touch. I try to radiate love from my heart to theirs. And I sometimes get a sensation of being heavily grounded to the earth and weightless at the same time. 

Once I’ve anointed everyone, as I walk back to the altar, I’ll use whatever residue is left on my thumb and make the sign of the cross on my own forehead. It’s a reminder that when it comes to God’s grace, there is always enough. 

I’m not sure if incorporating holy oil into my blessing routine made a difference in who stopped for prayer. But it turned out to be a popular addition, especially for those who were clearly in emotional distress. The most memorable was one of my regulars who had been going through a particularly tough season in life. Each week she would tell me about a new problem more complicated than the last. Everything was just so damn hard. So, when I asked, “How are you?” she looked at me like I’d posed a rhetorical question. We both started laughing.

Once we pulled ourselves together, I said, “Look, I have something special for you today.” I showed her my little container of holy oil, and a tear of gratitude escaped her eye. Symbols are messages and vehicles of hope – hope that is tied up in hurt, and healing, and God’s promise to always stick by us. This oil was a glimmer of God’s love in my outstretched hand – a balm, if you will, that would soon glisten on her forehead and soothe her heart.

Feeling God’s love when we’re in pain is different than feeling God’s love when we’re watching a sunset or celebrating a special occasion. It’s a quiet comfort and deep assurance of God’s goodness no matter what difficulties we face. It’s the knowledge that what is true in the light is also true in the dark.

As I anointed the woman in front of me, I told her Jesus was with her in the same way he was with his disciples before calming the storm at sea.  In that Bible story, Jesus sleeps in the stern of the boat while the storm rages and the disciples freak out. Then he comes to the rescue. Once the water is still, he rebukes the disciples: “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

We need not take the rebuke to heart as much as the promise behind it. Jesus is always here and ultimately will come through for us. He may sit back for a bit when the storm strikes so that we can grow through our struggle with the wind and the waves. And once he does act, the landscape of our lives may not look the same as it did before the storm hit.

But Jesus’ presence in the boat changes everything. As the wind tosses us about, he becomes our peace. As the rain beats down, he becomes our provision. So that one day, God willing, we will say in the words of Charles Spurgeon, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.”

Maybe that’s the greatest healing of all.