Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 144 

As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem,
he traveled through Samaria and Galilee.
As he was entering a village, ten lepers met him.

Several years ago, perhaps in the early 1990's, I drove to Carville, Louisiana to join a group of Franciscan friars for an afternoon of visiting, prayer, and dinner. I had never met any of these gentlemen and, upon arriving, started glad-handing my way around the group. As I expected, the gathering was informal and no one was wearing his religious habit. 

I was surprised however, as I shook hands with several men, that some had no fingers, are only a few, on their outstretched hands. Of course, I said nothing and asked no questions, but I didn't know what to make of that oddity in the group. Only later did I remember, or perhaps someone told me, that there was a leprosarium in Carville. (It closed in 2005, though the National Hansen's Disease Museum remains.) The patients had been invited to join us; and mingled freely among the hospitable friars.

I learned some of the history of that hospital. It began when several patients were brought secretly, by night, to a deserted "Indian camp" to receive the care of Catholic sisters. The local residents woke up the next day to discover the fait accompli! Many patients would never return home, and their cemetery remains. Because their families were ashamed of the illness -- said to be communicated by sexual contact -- their last names were not recorded on the grave markers. As knowledge of the illness increased and better treatments were developed, the hospital declined and the buildings were repurposed for another pariah group. It became a minimum security prison.  

Hansen's Disease has a long and unhappy history. It figures prominently in the Bible although the biblical lepers who recovered probably didn't have the incurable Hansen's. Because its spread is mysterious, the illness is associated with uncleanness, sin, shame, ostracizing, and pariah. Recent experience of AIDS and monkey pox reveal that we are still quick to judge and slow to offer compassion with mysterious diseases.

Saint Luke often tells us of the pariahs who greeted Jesus. There are the ten lepers in today's story. They seem to be the only ones who greeted the Lord as he entered the village. And the only grateful one was doubly shunned; he was a Samaritan. Other pariahs include: a tax collector, Zacchaeus, welcomed the Lord to his home; a despised criminal who recognized Jesus as the king-messiah before he died on Calvary; and women, with no standing in a court of law, who were entrusted with the Good News of his resurrection. And let's not forget the Roman centurion who declared Jesus, "beyond doubt, innocent." 

Jesus seemed to make a point of cultivating relations with the despised; and, after his resurrection, his church flourished among the poor and enslaved of the Roman empire.  Those who struggle all their lives, who fall between the cracks because the designers of safety nets ignore them, recognize the saving power of the Word. They believe in the Lord for they have felt the joy and gratitude of reconciliation and healing. 

They also teach us what most of us would rather not know: that life is a struggle, that we must seek forgiveness, reconciliation, and atonement; and we must offer reparation.

Damaged relationships don't repair themselves. We may learn to live with the misfortune; we might suppose that, "Good enough is good enough." But just as cracks in a road invite erosion and cracks on a bridge can only widen, old injuries reappear like zombies in a b-grade movie. They often turn up as addictions, compulsive behaviors, divorce, and suicide. They appear in the weary eyes of people who've lost interest in life.

Because of this segregation many Christians, eager to hear the full gospel, cannot receive it. Part of the Good News of Jesus Christ belongs to a segment of society they despise. They live with a false assurance, that they can safely avoid and ignore many human beings and still be "saved." (...whatever that means.) 

The word Catholic means universal; but we're not there yet. The body of Christ is sadly divided. We become Catholic as we take the initiative and dare to follow the Lord on his meandering journey through "Samaria and Galilee," en route to Jerusalem.