6th Sunday of Ordinary Time: Overcoming the Separation
As far as I’m concerned, it’s too seldom that the lectionary readings provide instruction regarding scabs and pustules. But it also crossed my mind that, that it might be best to have a reading like that on a day of prescribed fasting.
What we hear though from the Book of Leviticus, but also in the Gospel, are the harsh effects of a community trying to protect itself. For skin conditions like leprosy, there were no known cures, nor more humane ways to contain its spread. Strict isolation was the only known solution. So, aside from suffering the affliction itself, these poor souls were distanced from family and friends. Even more, barred from entering the Temple, they felt cut-off from God.
Given all that we’ve been through for the past year, these readings hit close to home for us. I find myself especially thinking of so many elderly people in the various care facilities, and how this pandemic has similarly imposed strict isolation upon them. It too is heart-breaking.
The Gospel tells us of a leper. He must have heard about Jesus, and thus planned to make contact, though he would have to do so secretly. Sadly, while the Law protected the community, it did nothing for the one bearing the affliction. The Law provided no meaningful solutions. His hopes rested in Jesus alone.
It makes me think of a Belgian man, Joseph De Veuster, as he was named at his birth in 1840. As a young man, he entered the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary and took the name Damian. He was sent as a missionary to the Kingdom of Hawaii. This was a hundred years before it would become one of our United States (1959).
Not long after, a health crisis emerged: native Hawaiians were becoming infected by diseases brought by foreign traders. Thousands died. One of the diseases was what they called leprosy. In response, the Hawaiian government designated the island of Molokai to serve as a settlement for those so infected.
The settlement quickly became chaotic and inhumane. Four priests volunteered to work in rotation, in service to the 816 lepers of Molokai. Fr. Damien went first and got right to work: building a church, dressing the wounds of the sick, making furniture, making coffins and digging graves when needed. In a letter to his brother he said, “I make myself a leper with the lepers to gain all to Jesus Christ”. Under his leadership and care, what had been hell on earth, became a community. They built and maintained farms, schools and homes. Eventually, Fr. Damien requested to be left there permanently. His request was granted.
Eleven years later (1884) he realized he had contracted the illness, and that he would eventually be unable to care for the community. He began to arrange a succession plan. He sent requests for help all over the world. After more than 50 responses declining his request, a member of the Sisters of St. Francis, in Syracuse, New York, Sister Marianne Cope, said yes. Three others also came: a veteran of the Civil War; a man from Chicago, trained in medical care; and a Belgian priest.
A few years after they arrived, as Fr. Damien’s death became imminent—25 years after arriving in Hawaii—he made his final confession, received viaticum and Last Rites, dying at age 49 (April 15th, 1889) on the Island of Molokai.
I have to believe that today’s Gospel inspired Fr. Damien to the life he courageously chose. "If you wish, you can make me clean", the leper said to Jesus. Seeming to have with no concern with contracting the infection, Jesus said, “I do will it. Be made clean." Then, amazingly, he actually touched the man. How long must it have been since the man last felt the physical touch of another person?
The man was made clean, allowing him to reenter society and participate once again in temple worship. As we hear, in obedience to Mosaic Law, Jesus told the man to show himself to a priest and offer the sacrifice prescribed for cleansing from leprosy. Interestingly, the prescribed rite was to take two clean birds, one to be sacrificed and the other, dipped in the blood of the first, to fly away free (Lev 14:3-7). It makes me wonder if the cleansed man ever made the connection between that ritual of sacrifice, and Jesus’ own sacrifice, and Jesus’ blood that would bring him true freedom.
Again, separation, being cut-off from society, hits close to home for us at this time. While we mustn’t be foolish or reckless, the examples of Jesus, of St. Damian, and Sister Marianne Cope, St. Francis of Assisi and so many others, challenge us to be courageous and innovative, to find ways to overcome what separates us, especially for those who have become lost and disconnected.
But also, considering the dissatisfying solution of casting-out the lepers for the good of the community, this reading challenges us and the cancel-culture’s response toward those we’ve deemed to be ideological lepers. Jesus’ courageous act of engagement and reaching out, calls us to something we may find more challenging, but for sure, something more humane, something fundamentally Christian. And in reaching out, we may well find that it’s ourselves that are made clean.