The Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time [February 11, 2018] Mark 1:40-45
“Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched him, and said to him, ‘I do will it. Be made clean.” (Mk. 1:41)

One of the greatest gifts that humanity has received is the gift of touch. We are created as bodily being, and biology tells us that practically all our body surface is covered by fabric nerve that receives the external stimulates like heat, pleasure, and pain. It is the first step in our survival mechanism as it helps us to identify the approaching dangers or threats. Yet, it is the first step also in our authentic growth as human beings. A baby will feel loved when she is embraced by her parents. A toddler who learns to walk will feel a sense of guidance and security when his father holds his hand. Even a grown-up man will need comfort and warm coming from his family.
If there is one thing that destroys this gift of touch, this is leprosy. The disease will practically create a “walking death.” Leprosy or also known as Hansen’ disease is caused by Mycobacterium leprae that bring about severe, disfiguring skin sores and nerve damages around the body. The greatest injury that this disease inflicts is that a person loses the ability to feel external stimulates like pain. As a consequence, a leper gradually loses its limbs like his fingers, hair, nose, arms, and feet because of the unnoticed repeated injuries or untreated wounds. Yet, the most painful about this disease is that the stigma the lepers receive from their community. In the time of Jesus, lepers are expelled from their community because people fear to contract the infectious disease. Even, people consider leprosy as God’s punishment (see 2Chro 26:20). Because of that, a leper is not only biologically sick but ritually unclean, meaning he is not able to worship God as he is barred from entering the synagogue or the temple (see Lev 13). He must cry “Unclean, unclean!” to remind the people nearby not touch him, otherwise, the persons may become unclean as well. A person with leprosy is not only losing the gift of touch from his body, but also from his community and his God. No wonder, leprosy is the most dreaded disease in the ancient Israel society.
With this background, we may fully appreciate what Jesus does to the leprous man. He is stretching his hands and making a deliberate effort to touch him. Jesus does not only risk of contracting the disease, but Jesus may become ritually unclean. Yet, Jesus insists because He knows that the gift of touch is what the man needs most. Indeed, Jesus’ touch brings healing and restores the lost gift of touch. The man is able once more to feel the goodness of life, to re-enter his community, and to worship his God.
When we call Jesus as the savior, it means that by sacrificing His life, Jesus reestablishes the lost connection between us and our deepest selves, between us and our neighbors, and between us and our God. How does Jesus do it? With the gift of touch. Our God is indeed a spirit, but our God is not abstract. He becomes flesh so that we may fully experience His love, His touch. As His disciples, we are called to participate in God’s concrete love by expanding this love to others. Do we dare to touch people with modern-day leprosies, like poverty? Are we willing to restore the broken relationship in our lives? Are we eager to meet our God in prayer? Do we want to touch those who have been away from God and bring them back?
Br. Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP





Balthazar, Melchior, and Gaspar, as the tradition called them, were neither Jews nor baptized Christians. In Greek ancient manuscripts of the Gospel, the word used to describe them is ‘magos’, meaning ‘someone with magical power’ or ‘magicians’, and practicing magic is detestable in the eyes of the Jews (2 Chro 33:6). Even the Catholic Church herself prohibits our engagement with any kind of magic (CCC 2116). Yet, we cannot be sure what kind of magic they craft, but one thing is certain that these Magi read the sign of times and follow the star. Because of this, they are called as one of those ancient astrologers, star-readers who predict the human behaviors and the future.
Some of us may wonder why the Church places the celebration of the solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God on January 1, or on the New Year. One may guess that the Church wants us to attend mass on the first day of the year, so as to start the year right. For those who wish to have a long holidays, it might be pretty a kill joy, but for some of us who wish to be blessed for the entire year, it is a nice thought. Yet, surely there is something deeper than that.
Today, the Church is celebrating the feast of the Holy Family. Saint Joseph and the Blessed Virgin Mary are man and woman regarded as the holiest among mortals. And the center of their family is Jesus, the Son of God. They are not only one holy family among others, but they are the perfection of the Holy Family. Looking at our own families, we realize we are nothing to compare to this Holy Family. We are called to be holy like them, but we continue to struggle and fail. Nobody among us is immaculately conceived like the Virgin Mary. No woman among us gives birth to the Son of God through the power of the Holy Spirit. Many of us surely love to sleep, but who among us like St. Joseph, receive genuine appearance of the Angel in our dream? Despite our best efforts, we keep hurting each other, failing each other, and are far from the ideal example of the Holy Family.
Christmas is one of the most joyous events in the Church and the world. But, what makes us happy this Christmas? Is it only about partying? Is it all about buying gifts? Is it about family gathering? Is it about fulfilling our obligation of going to the Church? Is there something more than these? Immersed in many celebrations, merriment, spending, and holidays, we often forget the main reason behind Christmas. We all know Christmas is the birthday of Jesus Christ, but what is the meaning and significance of this birth for us? Let us stop for a while and reflect on the Gospel of John.
Luke has a poignant and unique way in narrating the story of the Annunciation. He deliberately places the story of Zachariah and of Mary side by side, and lets his readers see both stories in comparison. The first story speaks of a holy man who serves in the Temple. Zachariah is a symbol of the ideal Israelite who stands at the center of the holy ground. The second story speaks of an ordinary woman who lives in Nazareth, a small town far from the center. In a patriarchal society, Mary is a symbol of the poor and marginalized Israelite who is pushed to the peripheries. Angel Gabriel appears to both, and God does marvelous deeds for both. Yet, the Annunciation to Mary turns to be far more excellent. The Angel greets Mary with the title of honor, the highly favored one, while the angel does not even greet Zachariah. The Angel makes Zachariah mute because of his doubt, but he assures Mary when she is confused. The conception of John the Baptist is done through natural means, while the conception of Jesus in the womb of Mary takes place through the supernatural way. Zachariah and Elizabeth represent the outstanding God’s marvel in the Old Testament like when God opened the womb of Sarah, the wife of Abraham, and Hannah, the mother of Samuel, despite their old age and barrenness. Yet, what happens to Mary surpasses and outshines these Old Testament miracles.