Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 77

A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said,
“If you wish, you can make me clean.”
Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, 
touched him, and said to him, “I do will it. Be made clean.”
The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean.

A fastidious society fears human contact. They fear contagion and disease everywhere! Contact means other people and, as the 20th century philosopher Jean Paul Sartre said, "Hell is other people." 

The recent COVID epidemic, which is still with us, did not encourage us to stay in touch with one another. Authorities insisted that we keep six feet apart; and, when possible, stay alone in the room with your door closed. The worst of the plague has passed from the US and western Europe, but it cost a lot. It tore away that much more trust and confidence we had in one another.

The Mosaic law was very clear about human connections, and especially with contagious skin diseases. Just as I regard all snakes as poisonous, our ancestors thought every skin breakout was leprosy. It was contagious and its carriers were untouchable. They could not be with their families, neighbors, or friends. They should not enter any public space; for companionship lepers had only one another, beyond the boundaries of the village, in whatever temporary, unstable shelters they might build. 

What we call Hanson's Disease, true leprosy, is contagious and was not uncommon. However, we now know that only five percent of people can contract the disease. (95% have a natural immunity to the disease.)

Hansen's disease is treatable but remains incurable to this day; but the Bible's leprosy was mostly not contagious and often healed itself. Skin is part of the nervous system and some skin diseases manifest nervous disorders.  Given a resolution of social and family problems, the skin might clear up. 

But humans look for reasons to distance themselves from one another, and the more remote the danger the more hysteria we create around it. Diseases associated with smoking are far more common than HIV-AIDS, but victims of the latter were forcibly isolated in the 1980's (when the disease appeared,) while smokers continued to pollute offices, hospitals, and homes. The CDC had to generate alarm about second-hand smoke, another remote danger, to draw attention to the problem of tobacco. 

Trusting in the Lord and his mission, Jesus moved fearlessly among contaminated, untouchable people. He lived the 91st Psalm: 

Say to the LORD,

“My refuge and fortress,my God in whom I trust.”

He will rescue you from the fowler’s snare,

from the destroying plague, 

He will shelter you with his pinions,

and under his wings you may take refuge;

his faithfulness is a protecting shield.

You shall not fear the terror of the night

nor the arrow that flies by day,

Nor the pestilence that roams in darkness,

nor the plague that ravages at noon.

Though a thousand fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

near you it shall not come.

Because he trusted his God, the Lord didn't contract disease by his contact with others; rather, his contact healed them. He demonstrated that freedom of the adult child which the immature child could not have, as Saint Paul said: 

Before faith came, we were held in custody under law, confined for the faith that was to be revealed. Consequently, the law was our disciplinarian for Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a disciplinarian. For through faith you are all children of God in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:23-26)

The fear of contagion may be a necessary disciplinarian but God's people set fear aside and address the ailing human being. Moved by compassion, we use reasonable precautions with that reverence which respects one's own vulnerability while caring for the other.

I well remember the dread I felt when I first anointed a COVID patient in the VA hospital. The word had not yet come down that no VA chaplain was to visit a COVID patient under any circumstances; they should speak to them by telephone from the safety of the chaplains' office. But I was a chaplain priest and had to answer to a higher authority. 

Before I entered the gentleman's room, I put booties over my shoes, a hospital gown, two masks, an eye shield, a cap over my hair, and two pairs of plastic gloves. As the technology advanced I would add a battery-powered ventilation system to my face shield. Somewhere amid all that PPE, I was sweating bullets. That first patient was unconscious and ventilated; my anointing prayer took all of two minutes before I fled the room, leaving the Veteran with a compassionate nurse. 

Eventually, I became far more relaxed even as I continued to don my gay apparel and visit COVID patients. When the new rule was announced that I should never visit my Catholic patients with COVID, I flouted them. But that’s another story for another time. I'll only say that when I was found out, I confronted my critics with the Soldier's Psalm 91. 

The threat of COVID was and remains real, but some people lack compassion and common sense. They hide from disease and people in unnecessary and stifling isolation, while others flout the precautions and risk both a critical contagion and chronic Long COVID. 

Saint Paul give us the last word about compassion and care of the sick: 

For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery. (Galatians 5:1)