A
Reflection on Mark 1:40-45
In
today's Gospel, we meet a man whose body is ravaged by leprosy, a disease that
didn't just destroy his flesh but cast him out from his community, his family,
his very identity as a beloved child of God. Yet something extraordinary burns
within this outcast's heart: faith. He doesn't ask "Can you heal me?"
but rather "If you will, you can make me clean." He knows Jesus has
the power; his only question is whether Jesus will choose to use it. And here
we discover something beautiful about our Lord's heart. Jesus doesn't simply
speak a word of healing from a distance, keeping himself safe and clean. No, he
does something shocking, something that would have made every witness gasp: he
reaches out and touches the untouchable man. In that moment before the healing
even happens, Jesus is already proclaiming the Gospel. He's saying that no one
is too broken, too sinful, too far gone to receive his embrace. This is grace
in action, God's free gift of love reaching down to those who cannot earn it,
who cannot clean themselves, who can only cry out in hope.
This encounter reveals the very heart of our Catholic faith and the nature of
God's grace. We believe in a God who not only has the power to heal us, but who
wills our wholeness
with passionate love. Grace is not something we deserve or achieve; it's the
unmerited favor of God that moves toward us even when we're at our most
unlovable. Just as the leper's disease separated him from the temple, from
worship, from community, so does sin separate us from the life God intends for
us. And just as Jesus touched that leper, he continues to reach out to touch us
in the sacraments, especially in Confession and the Eucharist. When we kneel
before the priest in the confessional, we are like that leper, acknowledging
our wounds and trusting that Jesus wills our healing. Grace flows through the
words of absolution, washing away what we could never remove ourselves. When we
receive Jesus in Holy Communion, we are letting him touch us in the most
intimate way possible, allowing his very body and blood to enter into us and
transform us from within. This is sanctifying grace at work, making us holy not
by our own effort but by his divine presence dwelling in us.
The Rosary deepens this encounter with grace in a remarkable way. When
we pray the Sorrowful Mysteries, particularly the Scourging at the Pillar and
the Crowning with Thorns, we meditate on how Jesus took upon himself the wounds
of all humanity. He became, in a sense, the ultimate "leper” bearing our
diseases, carrying our sins, made "unclean" with our uncleanness so
that we might be made whole. The prophet Isaiah foretold this when he wrote of
the Suffering Servant, one from whom people would hide their faces, yet by
whose wounds we are healed. This is the price of grace: Jesus poured out his
blood so that grace could pour into us. As we hold and pray each bead and
contemplate these mysteries, we're entering into the same dynamic as the leper
in today's Gospel: we're bringing our brokenness to Jesus, trusting not just in
his power but in his merciful will to heal us. Mary, who stood at the foot of
the cross and witnessed every wound her Son received for our sake, teaches us
through the Rosary to have this same bold, trusting faith. She is the one
"full of grace," and through her intercession, we learn to open our
hearts to receive the grace that flows from her Son's sacrifice.
What's striking is what happens after the healing. Jesus tells the man
to show himself to the priest and offer a sacrifice, that would fulfill the Law
of Moses. Even in working miracles, Jesus honors God’s plan that he had
established for his people. This reminds us that grace doesn't work apart from
the Church, it flows through her sacraments, her teachings, her communal life.
Our personal encounter with Jesus isn't separate from the life of the Church, it's
fulfilled within it. Our healing is meant to bring us back into communion, back
into the community of faith where we can worship together and witness to God's
mercy. Like the healed leper who couldn't contain his joy and told everyone
what Jesus had done, we too become witnesses to grace. When God's grace
transforms us, it cannot be hidden. Not in a way that draws attention to
ourselves, but in a way that points others to the One who touched us when we
were untouchable and made us whole when we were broken, freely, mercifully, by
grace alone.
Questions to Consider:
·
When
have I approached Jesus with the faith of the leper, trusting not just in his
power but in his will to help me? What holds me back from that kind of bold,
humble confidence in his grace?
·
What
are the "leprous" parts of my life, the wounds, sins, or broken
places, that I've been hiding from Jesus rather than bringing to him? Do I
truly believe his grace is powerful enough to heal even these areas?
·
How
do I experience Jesus's healing touch and the flow of grace in the sacraments,
especially Confession and the Eucharist? Do I receive these gifts with the same
desperate hope as the leper seeking healing, or have I grown complacent about
such extraordinary grace?
·
When
I pray the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary, do I truly grasp that Jesus took
on my wounds, my sins, my "leprosy" so that grace could flow freely
to me? How does understanding grace as completely unearned and freely given
change the way I approach Jesus?
·
After
Jesus heals me through his grace, whether from sin, doubt, fear, or brokenness,
do I give witness to his mercy, or do I keep silent? How can I become a living
testimony to the transforming power of God's grace while remaining humble and
obedient to how he calls me to share it?
©2026 James Dacey, Jr., OFS
