The Theology of a Leper

We came to know Freddie, the leper, in the mid-sixties’ when we lived as Peace Corps volunteers in a small West African village in Liberia.  He had been one of the lucky ones who had received early treatment for his leprosy.  He showed no ill effects from the disease.  The lepers lived in a colony in an out of the way place north of our village.  Freddie had a small house outside the colony gate where he worked at his trade.  As did many of the patients at this colony, Freddie earned his living as a woodcarver.  He often crammed a well-worn burlap sack with carved elephants, antelopes, fertility dolls and masks.  With his bundle flung over his shoulder, he trekked the mile or so into town and peddled his wares.  Peace Corps volunteers made easy marks.

Soon our small house displayed many examples of his handiwork for visitors to admire.  We asked him to carve a horse, but he had never seen such a thing.  So, we drew him a picture.  Unfortunately, the carving he produced matched the picture we had drawn.  Next, we requested a crucifix.  At first he seemed confused about what we meant.  This time we found a picture for him.  He remembered seeing a small one on the wall of a nearby mission.

Several months passed before we again heard his familiar greeting at our door.  With anticipation, we welcomed him into our home.  What Freddie pulled from his sack that day took away our breath.  He had carved a crucifix about a foot high from a single piece of dark red mahogany.  The smooth polished figure of our Lord hung in stark agony with both dignity and sadness.  It brought to life the long walk two thousand years ago between a certain government building in Jerusalem and the place outside the walls where common criminals met their death.  Just as it did for us the first time we saw it, this crucifix still reminds us of the poor who are often crucified by hunger, poverty and disease.

One thing more still haunts us.  The face of this Christ is African, but that did not surprise us.  There is a familiarity about the face that brings back particular memories.  The thin face, narrow jaw and high cheekbones still hold our attention.  You see, Freddie had never been close enough to a crucifix to become familiar with the face of Christ.  It seems he modeled the face of his crucifix after the one face he knew and understood the best.  The face Freddie carved on our crucifix was his own.