Leprosy, aka Hansen’s Disease, was a terrifying malady. Before understanding the importance of hygiene, and the discovery of medical intervention that ameliorates the disease, those infected were shunned, excluded from society, put in isolated colonies, where they waited to die. Even today, the image of a leper stirs fears. Pariahs, the excluded, are still defined, labeled and subject to revulsion.

In Jesus’ time, anyone who had any kind of abnormal skin condition was considered a leper, and driven out of the safety of family, tribe, community. If the “leprous” condition cleared up, the proper course was to show oneself to a priest and make an offering to God as proof of cure. Then you could return to your relatives and responsibilities. And if someone, even accidentally, came into physical contact with a person with a suspicious skin condition, they immediately and automatically became unclean and outcast themselves, and were required to isolate themselves for a set period of time.

Early on in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus has been instrument of several cures and exorcisms in Capernaum. Instead of setting up his ministry there, he feels called, through prayer, to bring the Good News and to heal in the other towns of Galilee. He travels about and shares his message of the immanence of God’s Kingdom in the local synagogues. He freely exercises his gifts to restore people to wholeness with those who were ready and able to believe that God deeply desired them to be well and at peace, as Jesus taught.

In between towns, in the open country, a person with a virulent skin condition came up to Jesus and fell on his knees. (Mark 1:40-45) The leper, pleaded with Jesus, “If you want to, you can make me clean again.” Jesus, moved with deep emotion, replied, “Of course I want you to be well. Be cleansed!” And totally against all prudence, Jesus reached out and touched the suffering person, apparently not caring about the consequences for himself. Immediately the skin condition disappeared, The leper was no longer leprous.

Jesus’ concern was that this outcast return home as soon as possible, so he strongly advised, “Go, right away, show yourself to the nearest priest, and make the required offering! Don’t stand around talking about this .” What did the man do? He went around spreading the story about what Jesus had done for him and how – “He touched me.” As a result, Jesus wasn’t able to enter any town. No matter. Crowds still found him, and his mission of love and truth grew.

We too may live in fear of “the leper.” Fear of the unknown, of what might possibly happen, can pull us back from acting with compassion. We become more concerned for ourself, for our reputation, maybe for our safety, and we don’t do what we are moved in our hearts to do for the other. Jesus gives us an example that, even if something does happen to us, there are still opportunities to love and to grow, in places we didn’t expect..

When we last left the people of Judah they were feeling pretty righteous and comfortable about themselves and their God. But the First Reading for the Second Sunday of Advent starts with a cry from the prophet Isaiah, “Comfort, give comfort to my people!” What’s going on? This reading is from Chapter 40 of the Book of Isaiah. This chapter begins the second major part of the prophecy. Most likely it was written many years later than the first part, and possibly by a disciple of the first Isaiah. The people of Judah suffered the same fate as their Northern relatives. They were conquered and carried away into exile; this time by the Babylonians, who had taken over power and dominance from the Assyrians.

Now the Judeans need this comforting vision: This exile won’t last forever. There will come a restoration by God, and things will be better than ever for Jerusalem and its people. They have paid fully for their sins of infidelity and disobedience to God. Just hang in there, and prepare a way for God to work in you and in the world. Yes, you will need to pass through a wilderness time, but God rules, and will be like a gentle shepherd guiding and caring for you – not a tyrant who demands that you continue to grovel and suffer – like your captors.

Still no hint of Christmas. We are given the opportunity to maintain our quiet reflection on our lives and on who God is for us. But in the Gospel, the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, John the Baptizer appears out of the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance. “Consider the ways you have been unfaithful and care-less to and about God and God’s ways for you. Turn your head around straight and do what you know to be right and good.” The message parallels that of Isaiah. “Get your act together, because God is about to do something amazing and new – better than ever before. Everything’s about to change, big time!”

When have we been in exile? Feeling lost and distant from even our truest selves? Not sure of how to find our way back to where we belong? When have we needed to review our life and reset our course? Isaiah, and John the Baptizer, are inviting us to not get ahead of ourselves – to take care of business now, so that we can be ready for something better, soon.

Tis the season of celebration. To me, Thanksgiving is the holiday that we in the US of A do best. Everyone can get into it. There’s not the horrible over-commercialization as we have with other holidays. All people living in this great and wounded country are able to reflect, realize and give thanks for so much – despite imperfections and mistakes.

The opening line of Psalm 107 is, “Give thanks to the One who alone IS, for God’s steadfast love lasts for all time.” We all have experienced that life is filled with experiences that are much less than good, and people who do bad things that impact us and many, many others. Still the Scriptures remind us that, “God’s will for us is to give thanks in ALL circumstances, while praying continuously (1 Thessalonians 5:18). 

There’s the rub. How hard it is to give thanks in all circumstances! Yes, it’s easy to give thanks for all the good stuff. Yet so much goes on that seems immersed in evil. People get hurt. Creation is despoiled. Greed and injustice seem rampant. Too much looking out for numero uno. How can we thank God when these kinds of choices and acts mount up day after day?

Let’s go back to Psalm 107. It doesn’t ask us to give thanks for anything that happens, or for what anyone does or doesn’t do. It commands us to give thanks to God because God’s faithful love permeates every moment – no matter what is going down. We give thanks because God is lovingly with us in each and every circumstance that we (and everyone) live through. So, what do we choose to focus on: God’s amazing love that surrounds us, or the misery? We are never abandoned or alone. Our non-stop gratitude is right and good.

The people who claim all or part of the book known as the Bible are fascinated with the number seven. Seven, among some ancient peoples, was considered a number of perfection, in the sense of completion. It refers to the combination of the totality of the spiritual realm, symbolized by the number three, and the totality of the physical, symbolized by the number four.

There is a Christian tradition around the gifts which come directly from God’s Spirit, namely that there are seven of these. The list of the sevenfold qualities comes from two versions of the Book of Isaiah the prophet (Isaiah 11:2), the older Hebrew and the (relatively) newer Greek. They are: wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, strength and fear of the Lord, which comes out as piety in Greek. Piety in the Grace-Roman world was a highly prized gift. Piety gives us a pretty strong clue as to what “fear of the Lord” means. 

In the classic Latin poem, the Aeneid, the protagonist, Aeneas, is given the designation, pious. It is the consummate praise. Piety expressed a person’s total commitment to his or her responsibilities – to God, family, country, creation… Being pious had nothing to do with a saccharine, devotional appearance or behavior. Christians added piety to Isaiah’s original six.

The Scriptural sense of fear of the Lord is to regard God with awe, reverence – as sovereign and supreme in our life.  Our actions are to be directed toward whatever God indicates to be true and right and good. All our responsibilities flow from this. Fear of the Lord is not about being scared of God, or of what God’s going to do to me if I mess up. God knows us better than we know ourselves, that we are funny, little, imperfect and fabulous. God doesn’t want us to live in, or out of, fear. Fear, in this sense, is not a gift of the Holy Spirit.

About three-quarters of the way through the Gospel of Mark (Mark 12:13-17) an unholy alliance of Pharisees and Herodians, sent by the Jewish leadership, comes together to try to trick and trap Jesus – one of several such attempts to find a way to get rid of this rabble-rouser, by making him publicly state something self-incriminating. Jesus is in Jerusalem at Passover time. Big crowds are hanging on his every word, hoping for some hint that now is the time for him to reveal himself as a conquering Messiah backed by the irresistible power of God, to rid them of the Romans and restore Israel to its rightful place in the world.

Many influential Pharisees are offended that Jesus doesn’t take the Law of God as seriously as they think one should. Especially someone who is teaching and influencing so many. The Herodians are only interested in keeping Herod, their source of status, privilege and wealth, hanging on to his tenuous position as “king.” Herod, son of Herod the Great, ruled the outlying territories of Galilee and Perea. (And those Galilean’s, like this Jesus, were constantly causing headaches – drawing negative attention from Rome). If the Romans become upset or displeased with Herod, his days (and theirs) at the top of his tiny heap are finished. They’re afraid that Jesus will start a riot, or worse, a rebellion, and Herod, responsible for Galilee, will look incompetent as a ruler.

This band of emissaries, oozing with hypocrisy, comes to Jesus and begins with a ridiculous attempt to butter him up. “Rabbi (you can almost hear them choke on this word) we know that you’re a straight-shooter and that you don’t give a fig about anyone’s opinion. You teach God’s way according to truth. Tell us then, is it against our holy Law to pay taxes to Caesar? Help us understand. Is it right for us to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?” Jesus responds, “What’s the point of this test? Show me the coin with which to pay taxes.” So they huddled up and produced from their purses the silver coin, the value of a day’s wages for a simple worker, and brought it to him. Jesus proceeds to ask them, “Whose image, and whose inscription is on this coin?” “Caesar’s,” they respond.

Here’s the rub. The Caesars had decided and declared that they were divine – like, you know, a god. To have the image of a false god would be idolatrous for an Israelite. How humiliating for them! The Israelites were forced to carry around and use this filthy symbol day in day out.

Jesus states, “Okay, pay back to Caesar what belongs to him. But pay to God what belongs to God.” What belongs to Caesar? What can he claim as his own? Some coinage? What belongs to God? In what can we see God’s image? How about all of creation? Everything that is good, true, loving, beautiful, harmonious, united! The Book of Genesis declares that each and every human being is handmade in the image and likeness of God. What do we owe to God?!?

Christians have long pointed to the Feast of Pentecost as the day that the Church was born. For some time after Jesus had completed his post-Resurrection appearances and returned to Abba-God, his followers, along with Jesus’ mother, continued to gather to pray and to wait for what would come next. Jesus had promised that they would know through the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Pentecost is another of the celebrations borrowed, and reinterpreted, from their Jewish roots. It came 50 days after Passover, and was also known as The Feast of Weeks – originally to give thanks for the wheat that was ready to harvest. For Christians it marks the launch of their mission as Church – a different kind of harvest.

Luke’s account in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2:1-13) is filled with symbolism. For Luke, the mission needs to begin from Jerusalem – the capital of the People of God (as they referred to themselves). The city is overflowing with pilgrims who came to commemorate the Feast together. Suddenly, where Jesus’ little community is gathered, there comes the sound of a strong wind. Then something like flames of fire appears over the heads of those in the room. These are signs from the Hebrew Scriptures of God coming down with power on the people at Mount Sinai.

These people are filled with the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Love. And this Spirit impels them to begin to speak to the pilgrims about God and Jesus and the need to change their way of seeing reality, and their way of life. The pilgrims, from so many nations, hear and understand the Galilean speakers’ message. How can this be? God must be at work! Of course, there are some who attribute this charismatic event to the speakers having indulged in too much strong drink – and so early in the day!

This gift of hearing and understanding would call to mind the mythic story of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11:1-9). In the story, people all shared a common language, and they decided, one day, to build a tower to heaven. Because of the shared language, this enterprise was doable. They didn’t need any divine assistance to achieve heavenly bliss. They could bypass the god or gods and do whatever they pleased. So, God, looking down at the construction project, decides that humanity’s arrogance has gone too far and proceeds to confuse the languages. The people start babbling and are no longer able to understand and cooperate. They separate and scatter into smaller groups around the world.

This is another example of an origin story. Imagine a child asking an elder, “Why are there other peoples, and why do they speak strange words?” It makes for a wonderful nomadic campfire tale. And the Israelites, having seen the high, stepped towers, like the ziggurats, during their exile in Mesopotamia, attribute this gross and sinful attempt to their enemies in Babylonia. Only pagans would try such a stunt!  

The coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost creates the possibility for humanity to come together, to hear and to understand one another, no matter the nationality. It undos the fiasco of the Tower of Babel. We now have the opportunity to unite in building up God’s Kingdom, as God desires. We can join forces to end all the divisions that weaken our efforts to make this world better for all. Meanwhile, our broken and divided world continues to babble.

 It’s amazing what we humans are able to get used to. We develop a great tolerance for what we’ve experienced over  time. We form habits, and the longer we live with them, the harder it is to grow beyond them. We can even begin to believe that these habits are part of who we are, and how we are meant to act. They’re not. They’re just habits we picked up along the way and have become comfortable with. But what if something happens to us and we suddenly realize that there’s more to life than our habitual modes?

The town of Bethsaida (literally, the house of fishing) is about two miles north of the Sea of Galilee, and east of the Jordan River. It’s known as the home of the apostles, Peter, Andrew and Philip. In the Eighth Chapter of the Gospel of Mark (Mark 8:23-26), Jesus has just crossed the sea, as he often did getting around Galilee. In the boat, he has just had another frustrating exchange with his closest disciples. Jesus tried to warn them against the way of influence of the Pharisees (using the Law to lord it over people) and of Herod (using power to keep control and maintain his privileged status).The disciples didn’t get it. For them, power, privilege, and religion were all good means for achieving a “righteous” end. Wasn’t that what the Messiah was supposed to do?

Jesus disembarks and heads with his little band into Bethsaida. Right away, some of the townspeople bring a blind man to Jesus to apply his wonderful touch and cure him. Jesus gently leads the man by the hand outside of town. He walks slowly, making sure the man doesn’t stumble over the rough ground, perhaps conversing with the man: What’s your name? Where’s your home? Tell me about your family. What work do you do? When and how did you become blind? What do most miss seeing? What are you doing in Bethsaida?

Then Jesus describes what he is about to do, and asks the man if this would be okay with him. The man, who had been a bit apprehensive at first, is now at ease with Jesus and allows him to proceed. Jesus, using a very basic healing substance, applies spittle to the man’s unseeing eyes and gently places his hands on them. Jesus asks, “What do you see?” The man replies, “I see people, but they look a bit strange, like trees walking around.” Jesus places his hands on the man’s eyes a second time, and the man can see clearly. He is healed and can now see everything plainly with no distortions. Jesus invites him to return to his home and family – those who know and love him, and says, “Don’t go back into the town.

Wow! There’s so much in these few verses. Why did the people in the town ask Jesus to deal with the blind man?  Remember, it wasn’t the blind man who sought out Jesus. Was it concern that moved them to bring him to Jesus, or just an attempt to remove an uncomfortable civic annoyance? Was he bothersome, sitting in the marketplace day after day, begging for his living? Yes, it is one of the “good works” to give him some little alms, but… He had lost the ability to do his life work (fishing?). He had become a label – that blind man, the beggar – with no dreams, desires, family, home… Did he become the town’s burden?  Of course we who are enlightened wouldn’t treat a beggar like that, would we?

Jesus treated him as a someone, human, not a problem, beloved of God, not accursed, as some thought and taught. And his healing? Sometimes we don’t see reality clearly right away. It can take a second correction and a second look. The healing of our blindnesses takes time. First we need to realize how much we cannot see. (Awareness precedes change.) Jesus stays with us until we can see fully and well. Then he advises us, don’t go back to your old ways, go to those who love you, who desire that you be completely whole, your best self.