Unclean!” Throughout the duration of his ailment, he had to live separately, away from the camp (Leviticus 13:45-46). Though leprosy was deemed incurable, if it spread over the person's entire body and then shed as scales, further progress was no longer regarded as contagious. At that point, the priests could declare the leper clean, who would then be required to offer the purification sacrifice ordained by Moses.
Saint Gregory the Theologian vividly portrays the plight of such individuals in his discourse on compassion for the poor, delivered at the almshouse founded by St. Basil the Great, where many lepers resided: “Before your eyes lies a striking and heartrending sight that few would believe were it not witnessed firsthand: men existing as the living dead, with most of their limbs rotting away; individuals barely recognizable as they once were—more accurately, they embody the sorrowful remnants of former lives. They epitomize isolation, simultaneously filled with self-pity and self-loathing, uncertain whether to grieve for the body parts they have lost or for those that remain, whether lamenting the premature destruction wrought by the disease or the parts still tainted by its grip. These souls face doom before death, lacking anyone to provide them a burial. They possess no possessions, no family ties, no friends; many are reluctant to approach them, refuse to look upon them, and recoil in disgust, even resenting the fact that they share the same air. Who is more tender than a father? Who more caring than a mother? Yet, for these outcasts, parental love remains inaccessible. A father may mourn for his son but still drives him away. A mother may weep for her living child as if he were dead, yearning to hold him close, yet fearing his diseased flesh like an enemy. All around, whispers and hostility erupt against these unfortunate souls. They are cast out of towns, homes, public squares, and paths, and tragically even from the very sources of water. Strangely enough, those we deem unclean find us unwilling to provide shelter, nourishment, healing, or clothing. Consequently, they wander day and night, destitute and unclothed, displaying their afflicted bodies and singing sorrowful songs, begging for a crumb of bread, a fragment of boiled food, or tattered rags to shield themselves from shame and to alleviate the pain of their wounds. Who can remain unscathed by the sound of their collective groans? Who can endure this lament? Who can calmly observe this scenario unfold? Some lie together, not in joy, but united by their suffering. Surrounded by a crowd—some sympathetic but only fleetingly—they endure the harshness of sun and dust, as well as the biting cold, rain, and storms; they might be trampled underfoot if their touch were not regarded as repugnant. As they respond to sacred hymns in the temple with their own cries of despair, the prayers resonate with their bitter weeping.
One such afflicted individual fell at the feet of Jesus, prostrating himself before Him, as recounted by the Evangelist Luke, or kneeling in supplication, as noted by the Evangelist Mark, pleading: “Lord, if you are willing, you can cleanse me” (Luke 5:12). He recognized the severity of his incurable condition but held a profound belief that for Jesus, nothing was beyond possibility; He could heal him if He desired.
THEOSIS