The English language is an interesting conglomeration of ancient languages. Most likely because of it’s location as an island nation, it has been in the middle of multiple conflicts between various parties over countless years.
Taking some word that are perhaps too familiar these past 12 months: pandemic – comes from the Greek, virus – from Latin, sickness – from Old English, illness – from Old Norse, and disease – from Old French.
I’ve never been fond of hospitals. The constant noise: beeping, walking, doors opening and closing, phones ringing, people talking . . . I guess most people aren’t very excited about them.
Once in a while someone will talk about hospitals having good food. That’s not my experience.
Getting sick is just no fun. And if one year ago, if we had very little knowledge about disease and illness, thanks to the Pandemic, we’ve all become experts of a sort. Too much information seems to be the order of the day.
Today is the 6th Sunday of Ordinary Time.
In our first reading from Leviticus, we hear of how those suffering with leprosy were quarantined from the community at large. Although medical science, not being as sophisticated as it is now, leprosy could mean anything from acne or a rash to what is now known as Hansen’s disease or even skin cancer.
The temple priest was to do the examination and make the determination as to whether the person did or did not have leprosy. And we hear that a leper was to “muffle his beard” – that is, wear a mask. And that “[he] shall dwell apart” – that is, maintain social distance.
The penalty, of course, in those days was death. If a leper broke the rules, he would be stoned to death.
In the Gospel, a leper approaches Jesus, kneels, and asks to be healed. The man had faith that Jesus would heal him, but as an outcast the question was: Would Jesus heal him?
Now, instead of following proper legal protocols (that is getting away from the leper, and throwing stones,) Jesus touches him. This, by law, makes Jesus subject to the same penalties. Jesus goes even further, He speaks to the leper: “I do will it. Be made clean.”
And, well, the rest is history.
Theologians of every stripe have compared sickness to sin – for better or for worse. The idea that sickness is caused by sin is certainly outdated. But the analogy, the comparison – of the effects of sickness and the effects of sin – can often be instructive.
Sin is often deeper than what is immediately apparent. Sin can be contagious. Sin can cause injury and harm. And sin isolates and separates.
And we can see this, not only in the Bible stories of leprosy, but also in our own lives . . . especially as we have been living in the midst of the COVID pandemic.
This reading isn’t accidentally here in the first several weeks after Epiphany. Rather, the Church knows that we will be heading into the Season of Lent. It’s not just about purple vestments and minor keys in music.
Jesus came to bring us into right relationship with God. While that gives us freedom, St. Paul points out in the second reading that freedom is balanced by responsibility. And that when we are in right relationship with God, we are called to be in right relationship with one another.
With our siblings in Christ, we are called to glorify God. With those outside of Christ, we are called to reach out to them – by word and example – to win those souls for Christ.
As we approach this altar to receive the Sacred Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, let us recognize that we are mere days from Lent . . . but also, let us recognize the need for us to be healed from personal sin, while reaching out to those who do not know Christ.
And through our efforts over 40 days, and the powerful grace of God, may we move closer to Christ and be healed from all things that separate us from Him.
