XXI — THE TEN LEPERS

XIII Sunday after Pentecost

Presence of God. — O Jesus Savior, I need You: heal me, have mercy on me!

Meditation

1 — In the cycle of Sundays after Pentecost, the Church continues to place before us, now under one aspect, now under another, Jesus’ merciful work toward our souls. Two Sundays ago she presented it to us foreshadowed in the healing of the deaf-mute; last Sunday in the compassionate action of the good Samaritan; and today in the moving scene of the ten lepers cleansed by the Lord. In this way the Church aims to keep alive in us humble consideration of our misery, of the immense need we continually have of Jesus’ redemptive work, and at the same time she wants to make us feel that this work is always in act and that every day, every moment, we live under its influence. The Gospel passage chosen for today’s Mass has a wholly particular efficacy in highlighting the central aspect of Redemption: the healing of our souls from the leprosy of sin. From antiquity leprosy has been considered the most fitting figure to give us an idea of the ugliness of sin; in fact it would be difficult to imagine anything more horrid, more repulsive. Yet while leprosy of the body is so feared, what indifference and ease, even among Christians, before that of the soul! How far we are from the deep and realistic sense of offense against God that the saints had! “Ah,” exclaims Teresa of Avila, “why do we not understand that sin is open war of all our senses and all our powers against their own God — a universal contest as to who can invent more betrayals against his own King?” (Ex. 14, 2). One of the fruits of today’s Gospel is precisely to awaken in us horror of sin and to awaken in our souls a living and effective repentance for faults committed, and a sentiment of profound humility in recognizing our misery. We too, together with the ten lepers, go to meet the Lord and cry to Him: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

2 — Today’s Gospel also indicates remedies for sin. First of all sincere humility that recognizes one’s own misery. But humility is not enough; it must be accompanied by confident recourse to God. The poor lepers, conscious of their miserable state, trusted in Jesus and launched to Him their invocation full of confidence: this was the first step toward healing. Certain souls weep over their miseries, are afflicted by them, and yet fail to be healed of them because they do not know how to have recourse with confidence to Jesus, the only Physician able to heal them. Having committed faults holds them back; they scarcely dare approach Him, scarcely dare trust in his mercy. These souls have not understood that we must go to Jesus precisely because we are sinners and that “it is not the healthy who need the physician, but the sick” (Lk. 5:31).

The divine Master did not heal the poor lepers directly, but sent them to the priests: “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” They obeyed without discussing, without doubting, “and as they went they were healed.” So Jesus does with us: it is always He who heals us, but ordinarily He wants to do so through his ministers. Some souls do not have enough faith in the word and work of God’s minister; they do not believe enough in the efficacy of the sacraments, of sacramental absolution, and therefore live in continual anguish. When a soul has exposed sincerely the state of its conscience, that is, has had no intention of deceiving, it should remain tranquil and remit itself fully to the priest’s judgment. In such case, to doubt the word of God’s minister, to doubt the absolution received, is to doubt Jesus Himself, since it is precisely He who has established to act in us through the work of his representative.

Of the ten healed lepers, only one felt the duty of returning to express his gratitude to the Lord. “Happy that soul,” comments St. Bernard, “which at every gift of God’s grace returns to Him, He who to our gratitude for benefits received responds with new favors. What prevents us from progressing in Christian life is ingratitude, by which God esteems as nothing what we receive without gratitude and refrains from giving us other graces.”

Colloquy

“O Lord, Physician of souls, heal me, so that I may confess You, O Health of my soul, and with my whole heart thank You for the benefits by which You nourished me from my youth and will nourish me to old age. I beg You, by your goodness, do not abandon me. You made me when I did not exist; You willed to redeem me when I was perishing and dead. To the dead You descended; You assumed mortality; You came to the servant to redeem him, and You gave Yourself that I might live. You sustained death, conquered death, and by humbling Yourself restored me.

“I was perishing, I was far away; I was immersed in sins. You came for me to redeem me and loved me so much that You gave your Blood for me. You loved me, O Lord, more than Yourself, since You willed to die for me. By such covenant, at so dear a price, You brought me back from exile; You freed me from servitude, drew me back from punishment, called me by your name, marked me with your Blood, so that your memory might always be near me and He who for me had not withdrawn from the Cross might never withdraw from my heart. You anointed me with your oil, with which You were anointed, so that from You, Christ, I might be called Christian. Thus your grace and your mercy always went before me. From many and grave dangers You often delivered me, O my Deliverer. When I erred, You led me back to the right way; when I lay in ignorance, You taught me; when I sinned, You corrected me; when I was sad, You consoled me; when I despaired, You comforted me; when I fell, You raised me; when I stood, You upheld me; when I walked, You guided me; when I came, You received me; when I slept, You guarded me; when I called on You, You heard me” (St. Augustine).