Here is the reflection I prepared for the weekly gathering of the faithful who came to pray with us this week: some thoughts inspired by the encounter Jesus had with a man who was suffering from leprosy.
You can make me
clean
Ever since my return from Southern India a few weeks ago,
people in this parish and in this city have been asking about the adventures I
lived while I was there, and I am happy to tell everyone who asks all about the wonderful
experiences of visiting a tea plantation in Kerala; about visiting the
Meenakshi Amman Temple in Madurai; and about standing at the southern-most tip
of the Indian sub-continent and looking out at the waters of the Bay of Bengal,
the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea, all at once. It was truly a week of discovery: each day
was an adventure, but none of the adventures was as anticipated as the one-day
visit to the city of Calcutta.
Ever since my youth, I have heard stories of that city,
and of one of its most famous inhabitants: the woman we know as Mother
Teresa. Her official title now is
Blessed Teresa of Calcutta. Born in
Skopje, Macedonia, she joined the Loretto Sisters and was sent to India to
teach children, but after she arrived in Calcutta, at the age of 36 years old,
she had what she referred to as a call
within a call which ultimately resulted in the formation of the Missionaries of
Charity. From their humble beginnings,
the Missionaries of Charity are now present in countries throughout the world,
caring for the poorest of the poor,
including newborn infants who have been abandoned by their parents who are not
able to care for them, children born with physical and mental challenges,
adults who are dying alone in the streets, and those who still live today with
diseases such as leprosy and HIV-AIDS.
I was taken back to that day in Calcutta when I read the
gospel passage we have just heard.
Although in this part of the world, we don’t often encounter cases of
leprosy, it still exists. Leprosy is a
chronic infection that attacks the nervous system, the respiratory tract, the
skin and the eyes. It occurs today most
commonly among those living in extreme poverty and it is treatable with
medication, however in the time of Jesus, modern medicine was unknown and
diseases such as leprosy were believed to be infectious. The Book of Leviticus prescribes rather
severe isolation as the only effective remedy at the time for this disease
including wearing torn clothes, allowing
the hair of their heads to be disheveled, and covering their upper lip (presumably
so as not to spread any germs) while crying out: Unclean! … as a warning to anyone who may be passing by (cf
Leviticus 13:45).
The man in today’s gospel must have heard about some of
the miracles that Jesus had been performing.
While he may have grown accustomed to warning others to stay away from
him for fear of catching the disease, I find it curious that he came close
enough to Jesus to ask him for this favour.
You can almost hear the hope mixed with desperation in his voice as he
asks: If you choose, you can make me
clean (Mk 1:40). In accordance with
the law prescribed in the Book of Leviticus, he would have been separated from
his family and all his loved ones from the time that he had discovered the
disease (cf Leviticus 13:46). We do not
know how long that was, but we can imagine that it would not have been an easy
time, yet he still dared to hope, and it was because of this gift of hope that
he was able to come to Jesus.
How many more in our world suffer from such isolating
diseases? Sometimes the isolation is
imposed because of the fear of contagion, such as the precautions that are
taken in hospitals and nursing homes during the flu season, but sometimes the
isolation is imposed for other reasons.
Saint Mark’s account of the encounter between Jesus and
the man with leprosy speaks powerfully to such situations because Jesus wasn’t
afraid to get close to him, to listen to him, to give him back his dignity.
Mother Teresa was not afraid to get close to the poorest
of the poor, to hold a dying man in her arms, to give him a bed to lie on, to
feed him a bit of rice, to give him some sense of dignity and love even in his
dying moments. In her words, she was
never able to do anything great, only small
things, done with great love. Even
today, the Missionaries of Charity continue to do small things with great love. Along with the orphanages for the newborn
and for children who suffer from physical and mental challenges, there is also
a home for the dying in Calcutta. One of
the Sisters I met told me that they also have a home for people living with
leprosy and with HIV-AIDS. Residents at
that home weave the blue and white saris that have become synonymous with the
Missionaries of Charity. In this way,
the Sisters continue the work that Jesus began: getting close to those who
suffer, listening as they recount their stories, and finding ways to restore
their dignity, their sense of self-worth ... and Jesus’ voice can still be heard,
even today: I do choose. Be made clean!
(Mk 1:41).
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