My question today is for native Texans. But the rest of you can join in, if you want to. What little animal, what critter, do most folks associate with Texas? Well, I’ve seen no real statistics on this, but I’d suggest it would be the armadillo. I mean, in what other state would you see armadillos in beer commercials – or on posters for festivals? Where, but in Texas, do armadillos wear cowboy hats?
The next obvious question is: what do armadillos have to do with today’s readings – and a possible homily focus? Well, the answer is simple. Armadillos are known to carry the bacteria that cause Hansen’s disease, which is the modern name for leprosy. And leprosy plays an important part in our first reading from the book of Leviticus and in today’s gospel story.
There are some 2.4 million people throughout the world who are currently victims of Hansen’s disease. However, there are millions more who suffer the same condemnations as did the lepers in the days of Moses or of Jesus. We have seen their stories recently in “Time magazine” and in “Newsweek” – photos and stories of those in Africa and Asia who are afflicted with AIDS. And there are still millions more who suffer because they are thought to be “Unclean,” who are isolated from their surrounding societies, not as a result of any contagious disease, but merely because they are different.
Historically, for some three thousand years, lepers have been seen as the “unclean ones,” the ones who were forced to live outside the community, cut off from family and former friends, forbidden to enter synagogues or the temple in Jerusalem, alienated from the Lord God as well as from their people.
The thirteenth chapter of the book of Leviticus is devoted to the conditions the priests of Aaron should look for in deciding whether a person had leprosy and was to be declared ritually unclean. We heard a little bit of that chapter in today’s first reading. The entire fourteenth chapter of Leviticus goes on to describe how a person who was cured of leprosy was to be purified before being allowed back into the community. If the leper, whom Jesus cured in today’s gospel reading, followed the law of Moses, he would have been examined by a priest outside of the village. He would offer up two birds, one of which would be sacrificed, the other would be allowed to fly off, supposedly carrying off the disease. The man would then have to wash his garments and shave his head. He would then bathe in water and sit in front of his house for 7 days – in full view of the public at all times. Then he would again shave off all his hair, including his beard, his eyebrows and any other body hair. Then he would offer up to the Lord God, two unblemished male lambs, one unblemished ewe and a measure of flour and oil. The blood from one of the lambs and some of the oil would be used to anoint the tip of his right ear, his right thumb and his right big toe.
Perhaps this whole purification process for those cured of leprosy sounds rather amusing to us today. But it was not amusing to those who had to suffer the isolation which resulted from their affliction. What would be your own reaction if you had a son or a daughter, a father or a mother, a friend who had to ring a bell and shout out at the top of his voice: “Unclean! Unclean!” whenever he approached another human being?
“Unclean!” Of what was the leper “unclean?” The immediate response would be: the sickness, itself. And yes, the slow degeneration of the body was to be avoided. But back then, there was no knowledge the disease was the result of a bacterial infection. It was not because of the fear of germs that a leper was to be avoided, but, rather, because it was thought God was afflicting a punishment on a sinner and his sin might rub off on those who came into his presence.
The leper was isolated because of a fear of catching his sin more than a fear of catching his disease. Is it possible we act the same way today? Do we avoid certain people, or certain events, because of a subconscious belief we might expose ourselves to contamination? Somehow, we will come down with a similar affliction.
Why do healthy people tend to avoid those with a mental or emotional handicap? Is there a fear that, somehow, this person is “unclean;” that I, myself, will become “contaminated” by being in the presence of such a person? What about the poor? The homeless? Do I avoid them when I see them on the streets, because I fear that, somehow, they will contaminate me? Would I prefer they be required to ring a bell and shout “Unclean! Unclean” so I would know they are coming, and I could more readily avoid them?
And what about those who have a different shade of skin? Do I put up walls in my mind around those who are black or yellow or brown or white? Do I distrust someone who speaks a language I don’t understand, whether it is Spanish, Vietnamese, or Arabic? Is it possible today’s lepers come in many forms? Is it possible I still want to isolate anyone who is different from me. Do I believe only certain, select people should be allowed to live in my community.
A few minutes ago, I described the procedures required by the law of Moses that had to be followed before an afflicted person could re-enter the community. We smile at how naive they were. Yet, even today, many of us have our modern requirements for re-admitting separated members back into the community.
We demand the physically and emotionally impaired act as if they are not. We demand the poor and homeless get jobs or complete all of the forms and follow all the rules needed by our bureaucracies before assistance can be given to them. We demand everyone speak our language and follow our customs in order to be accepted into our neighborhood. We demand people be declared “clean” before they can come into our presence.
But what did Jesus do when the leper approached him some two thousand years ago? When he saw the man, Jesus was moved with pity. The original words suggest he was moved to his innermost depths. Jesus did not require the man be certified by the authorities as being clean before he approached him. Rather, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him. He touched a leper.
He touched a man whose very presence rendered Jesus unclean. He did the totally unthinkable. He reached out and touched a leper. And he cured him. He cured him, because the man desired to be cured. The man needed to be healed, to be reunited with the community. Rather than hiding behind the law and the procedures of the law, Jesus undertook a positive action. He reached out. He touched another person. He healed. He reunited the separated one.
And yes, sometimes, “following the process” is needed. Sometimes an indirect response is acceptable. There is certainly nothing wrong in a person writing a check to provide help to those in need, to support agencies that help others. But there is also a time for us to reach out and to touch someone directly. Yes, it is good to bring food to this altar on Sunday. But it is also good to volunteer to help others directly on Monday through Saturday.
February 14th is a special day for many of us. It’s the day when we give our hearts to those we love. It’s the day when I want others to be my valentine. Perhaps, it can also be the day for me to begin to change my heart, to ask the Lord to help me change my heart so I might become more directly involved with the welfare of others. And yes, it will take more than a single Valentine’s Day. But we are fortunate. We have a whole season during which to begin the change.
In a few weeks Lent will be here. Already those in Galveston are rushing towards Mardi Gras with little thought about the next day, Ash Wednesday. But perhaps now is the time for us to plan for the days beyond Mardi Gras. The words of Paul to the Corinthians we heard a few minutes ago may be our guidelines for today, for this Lent, and for all the days to follow. “Avoid giving offense, whether to the Jews or Greeks” – that is, avoid giving offense to anyone who is different from you.
Indeed, now is the time to be, in the words of St Paul, “imitators of Christ” … “images of Christ” As Jesus once reached out to touch and to heal the leper, the one who was isolated from the community of Israel, now is the time for us to reach out and touch others. And with that touch to bring them back into the community of Christ: Christ the Good Shepherd.
Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time; February 13, 2000
Lev 13:1-2, 44-46; 1 Cor 10:31 – 11:1; Mk 1:40-45