Leviticus 13:1-2, 45-46; Corinthians 10:23-11:1; Mark 1:40-45

Bob Van Oosterhout

February 12, 2000

"Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him." ... He stretched... and touched... and he does the same for us. We can bring anything to him and he will reach out and touch us.

The disease this man suffered from was something much worse than Leprosy as we know it today. The Book of Leviticus describes it as a growth that not only gets on your skin but into your clothes and on the walls of your house. The law said that people with this disease had to be totally isolated from the rest of the community - in a Mediterranean culture where everything valued and important was centered around the family, the group and the community.

A person with this disease was seen not only as infectious, but as "dirty," a source of pollution. Anyone they came in contact with could suffer a fate that was, in many ways, worse than death. Mothers would tell their children "Don’t touch those people! Don’t go near them! If you see them, run the other way!" To have this disease and be isolated from the community was to have nothing. No home. No future. No resources. No life.

Think of someone with Aids covered with blood who is approaching you. We’d put on surgical gloves and a mask and most probably communicate with him by e-mail.

Jesus "stretched out his hand and touched him."

There are a number of times in the Gospel where Jesus healed from a distance. But this time, the person with the most despicable, repugnant disease of his time and he TOUCHED HIM. Now that gives me confidence. We can bring anything, no matter how disgusting, to Jesus. He doesn’t just wait for us to come to him but reaches out and touches us.

Think about what it means to be "touched" by someone. We talk about a "touching" story as something that moves us, it affects us in a profound way - slows us down, opens our heart and lets us see things in a gentler, more caring way. Nothing touches us when we’re preoccupied, rushing around, or caught up in the runaround of daily life. To experience something as "touching, " we have to be open to it.

Out in our woods, there’s two trees that fell across each other to form a cross. It’s covered with moss at the bottom of the ravine and there’s a little stream that flows under it. For years I knew those trees were there and never thought much about them. - I can’t say I was ever touched by them. Then last year, my daughter Maika and I went for a walk in the woods while she was preparing for 1^st communion. She saw the cross and got really excited. "God put a cross in our woods to remind us of Jesus."

Now I cannot walk by that cross without stopping and being touched by it. Whenever I see that cross, I stop and look at it. It slows me down and envelopes me in a silent reverence. It reminds me of the beauty and the power of what Jesus did for us.

Sometimes we need a different kind of awareness to be touched by someone. Children can do that for us. So can pain and struggle and difficulty. All too often it takes pain and struggle for us to recognize what is important and where it comes from.

We have learned we can bring our greatest tragedies and most hurtful moments to Jesus ... and he reaches out with his healing touch. We are made clean. We recognize the power of our faith. Time slows, our hearts open bit. Then what?

Jesus tells the man in today’s gospel to "...say nothing to anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest." The Book of Leviticus describes what needs to be done in great detail. There was a complicated eight day ritual that was kind of like a rite of passage from death to life. It provided for a transition from being a total outcast to being a full member of the community - it was a gradual process of re-integration.

So what does this man do? - Instead of telling no one, he tells everyone! He becomes the center of attention and everybody wants to hear what happened. In today’s time, he would have sold the story to the Enquirer, gone on Oprah, and signed a contract for a made-for-TV movie. He was touched by Jesus. Then he went off and did his own thing.

How many times have I done that? I pray: "Oh Lord, just get me through this" and he does -again and again. Then I get caught up in the need for attention, a chance to be noticed.

How easy it is to lose track of what Jesus wants from us, even when it is what we want most for ourselves. We’ve been touched by Jesus. For a moment we’re clean and then the world snags us and we forget about what Jesus asks us to do.

Jesus invites us into an ongoing relationship with him, to become part of his kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. This is not about being the center of attention, or having a big celebration, a even heaving sigh of relief. It is a day to day, moment to moment process of bringing our concerns to him and being open to his touch and his will.

Contrast the man in today’s gospel with Mary, the mother of Jesus who "took these things to her heart" when Jesus first touched her after his birth. She didn’t put out a press release. She quietly integrated it into her daily life. Contrast it with last weeks gospel where Peter’s mother-in-law was healed and immediately "she began to serve them."

We can bring any concern to Jesus and in some way he will touch us. That’s the purpose of this Liturgy: to come together, ask for forgiveness and healing, listen to his word and be touched by him. Jesus, who we believe is present in the Eucharist will join us in the next few minutes. He is ready to stretch out his hand to us. How will we respond? It is up to us. How will this affect us over the next week. How will it affect us the rest of today? - the rest of this Liturgy?