Be made clean

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).