Sermon Tone Analysis

Introduction

There is a saying that people occasionally use: “I feel like a leper.”

In other words, they are feeling ostracized, alienated, lonely, judged, and avoided.

It’s interesting that we still have that saying in our day since there are less than 250 cases of leprosy diagnosed in the US every year.

That’s just one-ten thousandths of one percent, if my math is correct.

We’ve probably not ever met anyone with leprosy or anyone who has had leprosy.

Through a regimen of antibiotics, leprosy can be cured in about a year.

But in the first century AD, there were no antibiotics.

All there was was disfigurement and danger of contracting the disease.

This morning, we are looking at a passage that deals with a man filled with leprosy.

In other words, it was from head to toe.

And as we look at the passage this morning, we are looking at four elements within this narrative that need to be examined if we are going to understand it correctly.

The first element involves the man, the second is about the Messiah.

Then comes the mandate, and finally the movement.

The Man

The first element of this story involves the man with leprosy.

While Luke had previously told us about the towns and cities Jesus was in, he doesn’t do that with this narrative.

We’re not sure where this takes place.

Those whom he interviewed may have forgotten exactly where they were when this happened, but the main thing is not where it happened, but that it happened.

Most likely this still happened in Galilee somewhere.

But while he was traveling around, there was a man with leprosy—filled with leprosy.

And if Luke presents him as being full of leprosy, it would mean that it has taken its full-effect.

Leprosy is not a skin disease, but a nervous system disease.

It shows its first signs in the skin, but it is actually an attack on the spine.

As time goes on, the skin certainly becomes diseased, the face and ear lobes become thickened, the nose collapses, the nerves die so that cuts, burns, and tears can happen and the leper doesn’t know about it until it is infected or oozing; tumors form, hands are withered and turn inward like a claw.

According to the Mosaic law, those with leprosy are cast out of cities, towns, camps.

They are ostracized.

They cannot work and must depend on the kindness of others to eat and cloth themselves.

So they’re typically hungry and clothed in rags.

They are never allowed into the temple so long as they have leprosy, and so there is a sense in which they are separated from God because of their disease.

They can make no sacrifices or go to temple to pray.

Anywhere they go, they must shout, “Unclean” so that people will know to avoid them!

Imagine what that would be like.

The disease is bad enough, but it is incumbent upon you to make sure people steer clear of you.

Some of you have experienced what it is like to be alienated and ostracized.

You felt that way because others avoided you.

But imagine having to go your entire life trying to scatter people and keep them away.

What kind of life is that!? It’s miserable.

And this is likely the life this man was living.

We see the mental anguish that this man has.

It has propelled him to seek out the healing.

It brings him to the point of falling before Jesus “on his face” which was perhaps a euphemism, but could be seen as literal as he would have most likely had no feeling in his face.

It brought him to the point of begging.

This is no the action of a man who is doing okay mentally.

It is the action of a man who is in mental anguish.

Yet, he is a man who understands that Jesus does not answer to him.

He can give no orders to the Messiah.

He can only request—beg certainly, but not demand.

He knew Jesus had the authority and the power to cleanse him, but he was not sure if he had the will.

“Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.”

This is what we call a third class conditional sentence.

It basically means that the outcome is uncertain, but there is evidence that it is likely.

Jesus has healed others.

He seems to have a willing heart to heal.

Though there may be something about this situation that would cause him to say no.

The man hoped for a cleansing, but was prepared to go away unclean.

But what about us?

Are we able to continue to believe that Jesus is able, but may not be willing, yet still bring our request to him without demanding anything?

Again, some of you know this type of mental anguish.

It’s not leprosy, but you feel like a leper.

Perhaps it was something in your past.

Perhaps you’ve been abused by someone who was supposed to love you.

Perhaps you were neglected or forced to grow up too fast.

Maybe there are sins that you committed long ago, but they haunt you still.

Because of the abuse, the neglect, the sin, or something else, you are kept from enjoying communion with those in the church or in your family.

Maybe because of the past, it isn’t that people so much avoid you, but that you push them away.

Feeling unclean, unworthy, or unwanted, you keep people at arms length or even more.

You feel ostracized or perhaps it’s not just a feeling; perhaps its reality.

You feel unwelcomed, unloved, uncared for.

You’re desperate for a cleansing.

The Messiah

This leads us into the second element of this narrative.

We first saw the man, but now we see the Messiah.

And the first act of Jesus was not to speak, but to touch.

While Jesus would lay hands on people, we know he didn’t need to.

He could speak a word and people would be healed of their diseases, demons, and disabilities.

This, however, was not simply a laying on of hands, but a touching of the person—a person who was untouchable.

He touched a leper!

All the oozing sores, the stench of rotting flesh, the dirty rags of clothes…he saw past it all to the man hurting and begging to be cleansed.

And I wonder about us and those around us in need of a compassionate touch.

I say that as one who knows that I am not a touchy-feely kind of person.

If I ever give you a hug or put my hand on your shoulder, know that is out of my nature.

It’s awkward for me.

I can handle a handshake, but beyond that is abnormal.

So I say this, knowing how hypocritical I am.

There are people who need a healing touch, and by that, I don’t mean from disease, but from alienation and loneliness—a healing touch to the heart.

I think this pandemic that we just went through showed our failures when it came to loving well the untouchable.

It seems that we forget how human Jesus is.

We read a story like this and think, of course Jesus touched him; he could touch him and not have to worry about contracting leprosy!

He’s God!

But Jesus was just as much human as he was God.

His skin was human skin.

His immune system was a human immune system.

His nervous system was a human nervous system.

By touching this leper, he was just in as much danger of contracting this disease as any other person.

But as we have seen time and again, Jesus is one who entrusts himself to the Father every moment.

The Father is sovereign over life and death.

George Whitefield had a famous saying back in the 1700s: “We are immortal until our work on earth is done.”

And this is true, but so is the fact that we are not to put God to the test.

So the question is how do we square these two truths.