Epiphany 6, 2006: 

Mildred, the town gossip and self-appointed supervisor of the town’s morals, kept sticking her nose into other people’s business.  Most local residents didn’t really appreciate her activities, but feared her enough to maintain their silence.  However, she made a mistake when she accused George, a local well-known businessman and recent widower, of being an alcoholic after she had seen his pickup truck parked outside the town’s only bar for several hours one weekday afternoon.   

George, a man of few words, heard the gossip around town and met Mildred on the street.   He just stared at her for a minute and walked away.  Later that evening, he parked his pickup in front of her house and left it there all night.

Gossip can be a dangerous undertaking and can sometimes backfire.  Most of the time the facts have been distorted and folks hear what they choose to hear.

Mark’s Gospel for today tells about a man who just couldn’t keep some news to himself.  He had suffered from leprosy, had become an outcast in the community, and wanted to have something done about it.  So, he heard that the itinerant preacher from Nazareth was coming through the area, he had overheard gossip about the man healing others, and he felt he had nothing to lose.  The small entourage was making its way down the dusty street and out of the crowd stepped the man with raw sores and disfigured limbs falling down in front of the rabbi.      

What amazing words the leper chose to state his need.  “If you choose, you can make me clean.”  The rabbi is moved to compassion and reached out to touch him.  It may well have been years since anyone touched him, and yet the rabbi reached down and put his firm hand on him.  What amazing words the rabbi chose in response to the request.  “I do choose.  Be made clean.”  And that was that.  Amazing words and a still more daring leadership position Jesus took in reaching out his hand and touching a leper.  This is especially true in we contrast the actions of Jesus with those of the Pharisees.  We are prone to identify this religious party as bad people because they rejected what we have come to call the “Good News.”  But, the Pharisees were not bad people.  In fact, they were the better people of that day.  These were the kind of folks we might wish to have as neighbors.  They took their faith seriously, they supported efforts to help the poor and needy, and they were clean and orderly.  These were good “law and order” citizens.  They sought to please God by obeying both the letter and intent of the law.  They held very high standards.  Issues of purity and cleanliness had the practical application of preventing diseases and they knew very well that the presence of an illness in them or their families was seen as a clear indication of the degree of sinfulness.    

For the orthodox the touching of a pig, a corpse, or a leper meant instant defilement and a rather elaborate ritual had to be undertaken in order to be made clean again.  A rabbi worth his salt would walk miles out his way to avoid coming in contact with anything that might make him unclean.  The law decreed that a leper had to yell out loudly, “Unclean!  Unclean!” when others were about to pass by them.  And that was all they were to say.  They were to engage in no pleasantries, no inquiries regarding ones condition or health, and no regular conversation.

Into that understanding of social and religious norms comes the healing of a leper by a rabbi named Jesus.  There are some things in this story that apply to our own day.  First, human need finds compassion.  The leper stated his need to the one whom he thought might be able to do something about it.  It is one of the marks of the degree to which God loves us that we are allowed, indeed encouraged, to state our case before the mercy seat of God.  A leper ran forward, knelt before Jesus, and asked for help.  “If you choose, you can make me clean.”  Here is a man who doesn’t beat around the bush about what he needs.  He doesn’t say, “Well, rabbi, I’ve heard about you healing others and, if it’s not too much trouble,” or, “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but,” or, “Rabbi, I know others are a lot worse off than me, but.”  No, he kneels before a newfound compassionate friend and says, “If you choose, you can make me clean.”  Notice the word is “clean” and not “well.”  This man knew that to be religiously clean would mean physical wellness.  He wanted to be restored not just to the community of his fellows, but also to his religious community, as well. 

Remember now, there was no illness regarded with the same degree of terror or any illness that led to such devastation as leprosy.  It is difficult to describe the effects of leprosy on the body.  Suffice it to say a person does not look like a human being after the disease had covered the body.  It is to this hideous mass of distorted flesh that Jesus reached out his hand and bestowed the healing touch.  Compassion had the power to heal.  It is a compassion that is more concerned with what it can give to the hurting one than with being contaminated.   That is compassion of the highest type.  That is leadership of the noblest kind.    

The second thing in this story is the leper’s faith.  Like all lepers in that day and time, he was outside the city, outside the community and told he was outside the care of God.  The extraordinary faith of the man was manifested by his refusal to accept the death sentence imposed by the community around him.  He crossed barriers others had erected and stated his need.  In faith he placed that need at the feet of Jesus.  Perhaps he had heard that this rabbi was different; that this one would often take a leadership position in opposition to prevailing standards.  Having a need met very often requires that one go against the grain.  Leadership and faith very often meet at the intersection where the greatest need exists.    

Finally, there are the instructions of Jesus to the man to follow the prescribed ceremonial laws for obtaining cleanliness again.  No doubt, the primary reason for this stern warning that the man say nothing to anyone about his healing, but follow the ritual as outlined in the law, was so that this way the man could reenter the community of faith again.  He would no longer be an outcast and could reach out to minister to those still suffering.  Also, Jesus did not want to allow this miracle to make him an outlaw in Judaism and he did not want others to come to him because of something he had done, but to come to him because of who he was.  That remains a burning desire of Jesus the Christ.  Many people come to him only after some prayer has been answered or some crisis has been averted.  Jesus wants people to come to him because of who he is.  “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”    

We have our modern equivalents of leprosy.  Some are physical, some are mental, and others may be about orientation.  In reacting to them, deciding how best to minister to them, we need always remember that our compassion cannot be based on some human evaluation that places the blame on behavior that may have contributed to the illness.  That would make us like the Pharisees who could not see their own need for compassion and mercy.  We reach out to others precisely because they are the one for whom Jesus was willing to die, just as we are the one whose sins Jesus took to the hard wood of the cross and there gave the “last full measure” of compassion.  Understood in that context we indeed become brothers and sisters with victims of many diseases and illnesses.    

We live in an age that needs good leaders.  Not those who base things on popular opinions or public polls or mass approval, but those who will step forward with the equipment of compassion, genuine power, and faith.  We need those who will reach out to those who suffer; that will make them among the most powerful leaders in the world.  That’s the example we follow.  That’s why we dare call ourselves Christians.  Amen.