A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.”
The leper came to Jesus begging him, kneeling in front of him. This untouchable knew what he was asking, thus he begged; and he knew of whom he was asking it, thus he kneeled. There's no doubt in the leper here. When he uses the “if” word, it's not the way you might be thinking. The “if” is not a word of uncertainty. The “if” is a statement of faith. “Teacher, I know that you have the power and authority to make me clean; there's no doubt in my mind that 'if you choose, you can make me clean'” (Mk 1:40).
Where did the leper come by his faith? He certainly did not get it from his religion. After all, leprosy was a punishment from God. Moses had said so. According to the Old Testament book of Leviticus (13:45, et al), the person with such an infectious disease must wear torn clothes, let his hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of his face and cry out, 'Unclean! Unclean!'”
In one touch of Jesus' healing hand, with one soft and cleansing caress, not only is the leper healed of his disease, but he is also restored, body and soul, not just to health: he is alive again to family, community, and temple. The leper is brought back to life—working and worshiping and living among those to whom, the moment he was diagnosed,he was as good as dead. In fact, no one on the “inside” even knew if the one they had cast “outside” was dead or alive, nor did they care much, so long as they themselves did not sin before the synagogue.
We are much more enlightened nowadays, we have so much more knowledge about medicine and diseases and healing. We have made the connection between body and spirit and have started attending to the needs of each for the one who is ill. We have figured out that the touch to patient's body, mind and spirit—these three—is all important. Attending to all these needs can make a huge difference between curing and healing, surviving and thriving, wholeness and holiness.
Today, there hang on doors to patients' hospital rooms canvas bags with pockets in them, and each pocket contains a different supply for the staff and visitors to put on or use before having contact with the patient. In one pocket are yellow plastic gowns, another face masks, another holds gloves and still another looks like it holds some clear tubing. Outside every room is a canister that dispenses antibacterial foam, which we use before we enter that room and after we leave it.
When I was first starting out in chaplaincy last fall, I came to a room with this apparatus on the door, I confess that a couple of times I passed that patient by. I was worried, I guess, that I might catch physically whatever contagion that patient had, and I walked on. Yet, not two steps did I take before I felt it: that crashing, crushing wave of guilt. I felt my steps grow heavy, and my heart felt even heavier. I had let a millisecond of doubt in the form of the big question, What if? deter me from my mission.
Unlike the leper, my “if” was not a statement of faith; it was a matter of spiritual malfeasance. And so I went back, not to the rooms but to the people. So many hands reached out for mine—some were shaking from weakness brought on perhaps by age or alcoholism; some could not look at me and some could not understand why I was there. Yet even those who could not speak nor find courage, reached out for the touch of a hand, the touch of a hand that was not mine but his.
Compassion is not a requirement, a law; a mandate; it is the open door of discipleship. Compassion is the cross upon which Christ's disciples carry the leprous ills of humankind before the Lord, begging because we know the depth of what we are asking and kneeling because we know the glory of whom we are asking. If you choose, Lord, to make us clean then we exchange ritual for righteousness, we are liberated for your work and humbled by your majesty.
As the dreaded disease slid off the leper's oozing skin, so did the perpetual, painful punch of being banished from community begin to slide from his spirit. The man who had become a leper, unclean before all, becomes a man again, acceptable and accepted. And yet, God's son, who had become a man to make us all clean became unclean, unaccepted and unacceptable, in that one gesture of extending his hand. When Jesus touched the leper, Jesus exchanged places with him. Jesus took the man's un-cleanness upon himself, and he carried it the same way he carried the sins of humankind, our sins, to the cross. Why did he do it?
Christ's ministry in the world was all about touching peoples' souls for God; for bringing hearts and minds living outside in rejection by choice or by shunning to the center of the healing, holy circle of the beloved community that God created for all.
Pay attention. Christ did not heal because he was supposed to, he healed because he wanted to. IT is his choice. Look again at verse 41: “Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean.”
Knowing who the Lord who gives you life is and what it is that the Lord requires of you is to be touched by holiness. We are changed. We may be loathed to kneel in subservience to earthly powers, but there is no better way to come before heaven. Bow the knee. In every gift—in every poverty—in every circumstance and every victory, bow the knee. I leave you with the words of a Christian hymn that has come to mean so much to me:
| There are moments on our journey following the Lord Where God illumines ev’ry step we take. There are times when circumstances make perfect sense to us, As we try to understand each move He makes. When the path grows dim and our questions have no answers, turn to Him. *Bow the knee; Trust the heart of your Father when the answer goes beyond what you can see. Bow the knee; Lift your eyes toward heaven and believe the One who holds eternity. And when you don’t understand the purpose of His plan, In the presence of the King, bow the knee. There are days when clouds surround us, and the rain begins to fall, The cold and lonely winds won’t cease to blow. And there seems to be no reason for the suffering we feel; We are tempted to believe God does not know. When the storms arise, don’t forget we live by faith and not by sight. Bow the knee.... February 12, 2012 !st Parish Federated Church The Rev Donna Lee Muise, Pastor |
