(1 SM 4:1-11; PS 44: 10-11, 14-15, 24-25; MT 4:23; MK 1:40-45)
God, where are you?! I can only imagine that this must have crossed the minds and hearts of desperate family members who witnessed this particular defeat of Israel to the Philistines recorded in the book of Samuel. I imagine an Israeli wife or sister watching the chaos in the valley below where she knows her loved one is breathing his last breath. Her heart must have sunk or perhaps even screamed. Where is God now? Not only did God not save her brother, but the holy ark was captured and gone.
As night crept in and the dust settled she may have ventured down to walk among and identify her dead. She may have thought despairingly so much for God.
This experience of abandonment and betrayal is echoed in today’s second reading, Psalm 44:
You made us the reproach of our neighbors,
the mockery and the scorn of those around us.
You made us a byword among the nations,
a laughingstock among the peoples.
Why do you hide your face,
forgetting our woe and our oppression?
For our souls are bowed down to the dust,
our bodies are pressed to the earth.
Both of these passages from the Bible raise the most harrowing question of all – where is God in our pain and suffering?
This is one of the most feared questions of believers. It is also a primary hurdle for many agnostic believers who might otherwise take the leap of faith into Christianity. How could a personal, good God allow bad things to happen?
I will start by saying that is a really, really good question. Second, I will say that after contemplating my response for today’s reflection, the next time I am confronted with this question by somebody, I will approach it very differently than I have in the past.
In the past, I often lost patience with those who asked me this question, especially those who I believed would benefit so much from Christianity if only they would just resign from the debating society and simply “try it out”. These people were typically the ones closest to me and the people who I loved the most. Couldn’t they just see how great Christianity was and get onboard? Guess what? My response was usually curt and occasionally even condescending. I don’t remember if I pointed to original sin as the cause of pain and suffering or not, but it didn’t matter. The person usually did not seem any more interested in Christianity than before the question arose. Moreover, it often left an awkward space where my immaturity became keenly apparent to us both.
Now, lets take another time I shared the Gospel with someone. This particular person was an extended family member who had been hurt badly by a family member, so much so that they had cut off contact for a couple of years. Although this was their decision, they still mourned the loss and cried openly during our conversation. The question of why pain and suffering exists never explicitly arose, and my response was therefore from the heart. I reached out my hand and held hers. I told her that her Father in Heaven loves her very much, and that I was sorry for what she was going through and everything that happened. This was a completely different scenario than my usual terse and annoyed response. I believe the difference lies in something revealed to me in today’s gospel reading. Namely, that life is personal and all questions, even if they are sweepingly theological in nature, always reveal and reflect the inner recesses of our soul. It is from this personal place we must learn to live and respond to life. It is illustrated in today’s gospel reading.
Today’s gospel is a detailed account of the miraculous healing of a man with leprosy. A leper in Israel at this time would be ostracized. They were not allowed to eat, bathe, and even worship with others, due to the fear that the infection would spread to others. The awful term for this is unclean. Through no likely fault of their own, they were kept apart from a life they once dreamed of. That is the backdrop to today’s reading.
A leper came to him and kneeling down begged him and said,
“If you wish, you can make me clean.”
Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand,
touched the leper, and said to him,
“I do will it. Be made clean.”
The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean.
Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once.
Then he said to him, “See that you tell no one anything,
but go, show yourself to the priest
and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed;
that will be proof for them.”
The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter.
He spread the report abroad
so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly.
He remained outside in deserted places,
and people kept coming to him from everywhere.
I believe more and more that there are everyday people walking around in our daily lives who believe, falsely, that they are unclean. They are hurting, in pain, forgotten, abandoned, and carry more internalized shame than they themselves can even recognize. They are not in a place to let another being enter their lives, only to hurt the, they believe. These are very often people who may have an emotional or angry stance toward “God”. They might be angry because they themselves are hurting. Somewhere along the way, they have been made to believe that they are unclean. And despite their confusion about this, something deep within them won’t quite let evil have the last word – so they fight and they become angry, cynical and skeptical. They won’t give up so they hurl impersonal questions rather than speak about their personal struggle, which is so difficult for anybody to do.
I am beginning to see that being called as a Christian is not simply about my salvation. I consider how often Jesus tells us that to love him is to love our neighbors. We must care for his sheep. These hurting people are the sheep.
Jesus’ sheep are everywhere. They are vulnerable, hurting souls, and we, as formerly hurting souls, are in a unique position to answer their call. How? Not through theological doctrine, although this has its place of importance in building us up to be able to minister to others about God. Rather, we must answer the difficult questions with ourselves. Even if they aren’t talking about their particular pain, we can still respond humanly and personally. We can speak from the heart and reach out our hands.
In stretching out his hand to the man, Jesus is unites all that is forsaken, cast-out, and deemed worthless with Himself. He was moved with pity. He touched the leper and spoke to him. Through this the man is made clean.
This is the same Holy Spirit of Pentecost that is given to us because of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. It is his promise to us with which he shares with us. It is what has healed us and will be with us until the end of time.
The story of the healed leper is significant because in his new-found health he is now reunited with society and is free. Sure, his lesions are healed, but more accurately, he is re-defined in the image of God. He is restored. He is made clean. It is our job to find a way to tell others about their dignity. This may be as easy as holding their hand.
The question why remains a question that a Deacon at my parish says is at the top on his list to ask God when he gets to Heaven. It is one question of a few that can haunt the human soul. It’s there, and isn’t going anywhere. But from now on, lets not be afraid of this question. Instead, lets see what is behind the question, which is one of God’s beloved children.
We do not need to find magic words to make somebody come to church on Sunday. We need only do what we have been humbly assigned, which is to spread the good news by giving of ourselves.
Today, I pray that we begin to realize our incredible call as Christians to extend Christ’s mercy. I pray that we reach out our hands in one new way today to help somebody who needs the reminder that they are not forgotten. This is what we can do to fight evil and may God give us strength and guidance to do so. Amen.
