Tuesday, February 13, 2024

The Price of Love, The Cost of Redemption (6th Sunday, Year B)

To listen to this homily, click here.

Until about 4 years ago, I am not sure today’s readings would have hit me the same way they do now. Before the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic and everything that went along with it, I understood intellectually how leprosy caused not only bodily death but also the slow strangulation of the social, religious, and emotional connections of its victims. As is so often the case, it is one thing to read about something, it is another thing to live through it. Who can forget the terrible experience of the Covid lockdowns? Remember the fear, uncertainty, and powerlessness that ruled over so many as this mysterious sickness spread? It separated families and friends, communities and congregations and in many cases, it seems that the isolation and loneliness of lockdowns were more destructive than the disease itself. To this day, we are still dealing with the fallout and it will take years to undo the effects of being separated and cut off from each other.


The response to Covid-19 is not unique in human history. Throughout the centuries, humankind has been beset by many illnesses, some of which have altered the course of history. For example, in 1348 the so-called Black Death or Bubonic plague first reached Europe from the East. By 1350, more than half the population of the continent had died. Over the next 20 years, the plague reduced the population of the civilized world by 75 percent! In 1918 an epidemic of influenza claimed more than 20,000,000 people worldwide: with more than 548,000 succumbing in the U.S. alone. When these and so many other fearful diseases strike, one of the first reactions is to quarantine the sick so as to protect the healthy. Separated from rest of society, those held in quarantine suffer doubly, first from their illness and its terrors, and then from the isolation. In the ancient world, victims of leprosy knew this double-dose of suffering all too well. And now, you and I can, to some extent, sympathize as well. Which also helps up appreciate the gift that Jesus gives to the leper by curing his illness. It is not just a physical restoration, it is a reunion with so many of the people and things that define us as human beings.


But this miracle comes with a price. While the leper rejoins society and is able to enjoy renewed relationships with friends, family and temple worship, Jesus becomes the outcast. Up until this point, Jesus has been able to move in and out of towns openly and do as he pleases. After he heals the leper, he exchanges places, staying in deserted places, unable to move about freely. Jesus demonstrates the price of sacrificial love; the fact that caring for another sometimes demands something profound before our beloved can be be restored and made whole. 


There is a little detail right after Jesus reaches out and touches the leper, taking away his disease. He tells the cured man to go to the temple and offer the sacrifice that Moses prescribed. It’s easy to gloss over that note but the particulars of the sacrifice are significant. In order to complete the cleansing and be restored to the community, the leper would offer two turtledoves in the temple. This is, by the way, the same sacrifice that was offered by Joseph and Mary when they presented Jesus in the temple. One turtledove would be sacrificed while the other one was set free. A powerful symbol that redemption came at a price. 


Of course Jesus paid the price so this leper could be set free. This particular miracle was a preview of what Jesus would soon do so all of us could be free from the death sentence and isolation that sin imposes. Jesus’ love for the leper and his love for each and every one of us is a reminder of what true love costs. However, we are not naturally attracted to sacrifice! We tend to love God and others until it starts to hurt and cost us dearly, then we try to pull back. This is why we often shy away from loving God and others to the degree that we are called. We would rather avoid the pain, sacrifice, vulnerability and price that it demands. But Jesus goes first to show us the way. And he calls us to imitate him in loving God and those around us. There is no other path if we hope to bring the good news to the world and experience the gift of eternal life. Sin is the ongoing disease, the ever-present pandemic that threatens humankind. It will continue to threaten us with isolation, decay, loneliness, and death. Only Christ-like love can undo its effects. 


We need the grace of the sacraments, the strength of daily prayer, the encouragement of good people and the guidance of God’s Church in order to live sacrificial love. We cannot summon it on our own. While the cost of sacrificial love is high, the alternative of quarantining our hearts is far worse. There will always be a price and risk for loving as Jesus did but to seek a love without sacrifice will lessen our humanity and separate us from the warmth and light of God and others.


C.S. Lewis said it best in his book called, The Four Loves. He writes, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”


May we accept the invitation to love as Christ does when he reaches out to the leper. Who knows how God will use our vulnerability and sacrifice to foster healing in the lives of others?!