We hear today the famous account of Our Lord healing the leper. This was evidently a very important moment for the Christians of the early Church, because this story finds its way prominently into three of the Gospels. Our Lord is faced with a person with a kind of disease: dangerous, highly contagious, no known cure, passed by physical contact, a cause for widespread concern and even some fear; those who had this disease or might have had it, were compelled to remain apart from the rest of society. This is the context for a great message of hope and healing that Christ gives. The first thing to notice is this sick person’s incredible faith. “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.” This man doesn’t allow his unfortunate and frightening circumstances to deprive him of his hope. He doesn’t bargain with the Lord or try to bribe him or coerce him into using his power to heal physical ailments, power which was probably rather well-known at this point. He doesn’t manipulate the Lord or play on his sympathies. He just expresses Faith. Lord, you can heal me if you want to. Of course Our Lord does want to, and he responds to this person’s incredible faith with a complete healing of body and soul.
The Church has always understood a deeper meaning here: not denying for a moment, of course, that the Lord did indeed heal this man; he did. But leprosy also represents something. It represents our sins: which disfigure us, hurt us, and even endanger us. But Our Lord heals that too. And even if, for whatever reason, he doesn’t heal our physical ailments, there is never any moment when he is not ready to heal us from our sins. “I do will it; be made clean” will always be his words to us when we come to him with humility and faith like the leper showed today. We do have to remember that there’s a disease more serious than any human ailment. It’s the disease of sin. Now, we’re Catholics, which means we are soul and body people. We care about both. The body matters too. Life matters. It’s not for nothing that the Catholic Church basically invented the modern hospital system. So believe me, I am not for a minute trivializing the any diseases of the body. We do take care of ourselves and our physical health in all the ways we know how. I’m not saying we should take physical disease any less seriously. I’m saying that we should make sure that we take spiritual maladies just as seriously, if not more so. Because sin, serious sin in particular, is worse than any physical disease. Because our time on this earth is fairly short, but eternity is forever. Disease of body can only hurt you for so long. But diseases of the soul could last forever. But they don’t have to. That’s the good, wonderful, joyful news of our faith. Christ wants to heal us. Christ can heal us. And Christ will heal us (he’s promised, and his promises never fail), if we let him.
In fact, our weaknesses and sins can be the opportunity we have to draw close to Christ, as the sick man in the Gospel did. Giving Christ our spiritual maladies and allowing him to heal us can be what forms that deep personal connection. This healed man went around broadcasting his experience with Christ to anyone who would listen. This moment changed his life, and Christ became everything for him. That’s what can happen for us. That’s how the healing that he gives us, in the sacraments, in confession, in Mass: that’s how his healing becomes about more than just our sins. He heals our sins, and in doing so, we come to know him and love him as our all in all. The salvation that he gives becomes real and personal for each one of us. And we’re filled with the joy and the peace and the hope that come when one has been completely, deeply, profoundly healed. May Christ heal us. May he give us full health of mind, body, and soul, in this life and in the life to come.