DEEP HEALING

INTRODUCTION

Good morning. I want to start my sermon off with one of my oldest memories.

I was five or so years old. And for the most part, I was a well behaved kid, but I have this clear memory of one time in particular that I had gotten in trouble and so I was sent up to my room, which was a big deal, because I didn’t get sent to my room very often.

So clearly my parents knew I needed to cool off a bit, and to take a break from the TV, and think about what I’d done. But I still remember being up there in my top bunk just so angry. And so rather than cool off, I remembered that my parents had a small box TV in their bedroom on their dresser. So, the genius that I was, I decided the only logical next step was to go in and steal my parents’ TV and bring it into my room—nevermind that I probably couldn’t carry the TV by myself at that age.

And before I could think about it twice, I was over in my parents’ room trying to pull this little TV off their dresser so I could cheat in some cartoons. The problem was that in my young brilliance, I’d totally forgotten to unplug the TV from the wall before trying to move it. And next to the TV sat my dad’s piggy bank, which he had made as a kid and kept all those years. And as I slid the TV toward the edge, I heard a crash, and the piggy bank had shattered on the ground.

Now I was in deep trouble. Not only was I in trouble in the first place, but I was being disobedient by trying to watch TV, and on top of it all I’d just broken something that was special to my dad. And my little five-year old mind was so overwhelmed. I was in trouble, and there was no way to get around it.

And I wondered, what would my dad would do if I were to approach him with these broken pieces, with my trouble, with my need for forgiveness? What would he do in the face of my deep need?

I’ve reflected on this story over the years, because I’ve also found myself asking, how does God respond when I approach Him my troubles, and with my brokenness? What would he do in the face of deep need? But since we’re in the Gospels looking at Jesus, God in the flesh, let’s reword it: What happens when Jesus comes face to face with deep need?

And that’s a great question for us to bring to our text this morning. So let’s pause the story there, and let’s take a look at the next passage in the gospel of Luke.

BACKGROUND

We’re in Luke chapter 5, and as we prepare to read, know that Luke wants us to see that Jesus is fulfilling all that He said He was about in Nazareth. You can remember in Luke chapter 4 that Jesus read from the scroll of Isaiah, which gave a kind of mission statement for His ministry.

And now in what follows, Jesus is living His life on that mission. We’ve already seen Him driving out impure spirits, healing people, and calling disciples. Luke is showing us that Jesus is doing exactly what He said He would do.

And as Jesus is moving around, teaching and ministering, He is going to encounter a man who was living a kind of existence most of us can’t even imagine. Jesus is going to encounter a man who was in deep need. Let’s meet this man, and let’s see how Jesus responds.

*Read the passage*

Luke 5:12–16 NIV

While Jesus was in one of the towns, a man came along who was covered with leprosy. When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged him, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” And immediately the leprosy left him. Then Jesus ordered him, “Don’t tell anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them.” Yet the news about him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.

BODY

In the first sentence of our text, Luke has already set up the tension that drives the entire account. Jesus is moving around, going from town to town, and all of a sudden there’s a man with leprosy. And it’s a dramatic moment because if you were living in the First Century, you had all this cultural context for this kind of encounter. You knew what should happen and it’s the expectation that brings the tension. And so it’s his approach that poses our question: What happens when Jesus comes face to face with deep need?

So let’s unpack this cultural context to get a better idea of what’s going on.

If you’re a first-century jewish person reading this account, as soon as this man comes onto the scene, you immediately feel sick to your stomach. You know about leprosy. You know what it looks like. You know what it smells like. In every way, it’s a slow and gradual death sentence. Your body is rotting and wasting away, and it serves as a constant reminder that you are going to die a slow and painful death.

And we read that the man in our story was not just a leper, but that he was “covered with leprosy,” literally, “full of leprosy.” It seems like Luke the physician is giving us insight into the fact that this man had an advanced case of the disease; one that was particularly bad. It means that the man not only has discoloration and boils and open sores on his skin, but also that the disease is attacking his nervous system, limiting his ability to feel pain, making him unaware of other cuts and infections. It means his face could be disfigured, and he may have lost flesh in different places on his body.

And like a good Jew, as this disgusting, pitiful person approaches Jesus, you would know exactly how Jesus is supposed to respond to him. This is what creates tension in the account: Everyone knew what Jesus was supposed to do, but they all wondered what He would do.

The expected response is clear because you would have seen plenty of teachers and pharisees respond to lepers before. You shun them. You scold them. You yell at them, “get away!” When one Rabbi saw a lepper he would cast stones at him, exclaiming, "get back to your location and do not contaminate other people."

And like a good Jew, you also knew how this man was supposed to approach (or not approach!) Jesus! As it says in Leviticus 13:45-46

Leviticus 13:45–46 NIV

“Anyone with such a defiling disease must wear torn clothes, let their hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of their face and cry out, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’ As long as they have the disease they remain unclean. They must live alone; they must live outside the camp.

Talk about quarantine. Talk about social distancing. Even masking! COVID helps us have some context for this stuff, but it’s hard for us to imagine the stigma that existed in those days against lepers.

People didn’t want to be around you, because touching you, or touching a place that you had been sitting, would make them ritually unclean. People were afraid of you because they would rather die than catch your disease and become like you.

Though it was certainly physically grueling, in ancient times, leprosy was just as much a relational disease as it was a physical one.

People didn’t want to be near you, and they were afraid of you. And not only were they afraid, but most people assumed that leprosy was the result of some curse from God or some terrible sin. It’s the same impulse that stands behind the disciples’ words in John 9:1-2 when they ask Jesus, “who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” So not only were you feared, but you were also blamed for your own suffering.

And to top it all off, there was no hope of recovery. In those days, the Pharisees would say that curing someone’s leprosy was as difficult as raising someone from the dead. In other words, it was impossible. He’s trapped in this state of suffering and no one wants him around.

We don’t often think of it this way, but when we read “along came a man with leprosy,” between the lines we’re reading “along came a man in the depths of Loneliness. Total isolation.”

And there can be some peace in solitude. But when we perceive that our deep loneliness is the result of something that we did or something that we are, then deep loneliness can very easily turn into deep shame.

I mean, imagine having to go out and wear torn clothes, clothes that aren’t bringing dignity, and then yell to everyone “I’m unclean!” Imagine what that does to a person’s self image.

And it’s shame that says I deserve this loneliness. I deserve to be deserted. No one wants to be around me because I am such a failure. No one should get close to me because I’m dangerous. And this kind of deep loneliness and deep shame is so damaging to our souls.

And I can actually see this back in the text. Notice with me: Isn’t it interesting how the leper asks not to be healed, but to be “cleansed”? He says, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” Why is this interesting? This word “clean” was a common word in those days, but it didn’t necessarily refer to phyiscal healing. Rather, it refered to the restoration of ritual purity.

You see in the Old Testament, God had given His people laws concerning ritual purity. And when someone became ritually impure, they would have to live outside the camp for a certain period of time, bathe, present yourself before the priests, and then offer sacrifices, at which point they would be considered clean again and could come back into the community and worship God.

And so, the language of cleansing is not primarily about the leper being healed from physical suffering. He isn’t directly asking for the end of his sickness. He’s asking for the end of his isolation. He longs to be back with the worshipping community. He longs to be back in the temple. It’s like he knows that, as we read in Psalm 84, “better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.” And yet his impurity keeps him from the good relationships he was created for, and the very same thing can be true for us.

We too experience brokenness in our relationships. We too are, in a sense, unfit to be in God’s presence. But it is our sin that has broken our relationships and made us unfit for God’s presence.

In the case of the leper, we see that he was cut off for reasons he couldn’t control. And contrary to popular thought in that day, it was most likely not the result of his sin.

But in our case, we need to recognize how our sin, and the effects of sin on our world, have broken our relationships. We were created to live in these flourishing relationships with ourselves, with others, and with God. But the self-centeredness of sin causes dysfunction in all these relationships.

We were made to have a healthy relationship with ourselves, but instead, we have this undue focus on ourselves, where we either experience self-deprication and self-loathing; or, pride, arrogance, idolatry of self. We relate to ourselves in broken ways.

We were made to have healthy relationships with others, but instead we use others for selfish gain. We’re more interested in transactions than genuine friendships. We want others for what they can do for us. And so we cheat. We lie. We steal. We hate. We ostracize. We refuse to forgive. We hold grudges. We treat others like they’re characters in a movie about our life. And so much less than God had in mind for us.

We were made to have a thriving, vibrant, life-giving walk with our God, but instead we act like He, the One who created us and who gave us life, doesn’t even exist. We reject God and we chase after idols that could never satisfy.

We fall into cycles of abuse, self-medication, and indulgence because we refuse to let God sit on the throne of our hearts.

And the result is that we are in trouble. We’re in desperate need. Our sin becomes like a spiritual cancer that destroys our lives.

And it’s important that we see this, because some of us see our need and we believe that our relationship with ourselves—with all the diagnoses and the medications and the self hatred—is too far gone. It’s beyond the hope of redemption. Some of us believe that our marriages, or our friendships, or our family relationships, or the opportunity to fit in somewhere and feel that we belong, is long gone. Some of us believe that no matter what we do, there’s no way God will receive us back. We could never do anything to please Him. And like the leper, we may feel like our need is too great. Like fixing our mess would be just as difficult as raising someone from the dead.

If that’s you this morning, keep listening. Because we’ve seen the leper and the tension that he brings, and the trouble he’s in. We’ve seen our own need. So let’s look back at our text. And as we continue to read, the leper sees and somehow recognizes Jesus. And when he sees Jesus, he sees the possibility of resurrection. Hope is ignited once again. And he knows he’s not supposed to approach Him. And yet…

When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged him, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.”

Our leper sees Jesus and he scandelously approaches Jesus, knowing full well that he should be rejected out of hand. But his loneliness and shame, his recognition of his need had driven him to a point that he approaches nonetheless, throws himself down, and begs. What we see in the example of this man is a desperation.

Not only that, but look at the way his question is structured: He says, “Lord, if you are willing… you can make me clean.” The question is not about Jesus’ ability. The leper is saying, in effect, “Jesus I know that you, like the prophets of old, can end my suffering. I know that you can end my loneliness. I know that you can take away my shame.” The only question is whether Jesus is willing.

I love the desperation in this man, and I love the belief that is demonstrated in his question. I think there’s so much for us to learn from this approach. And so let’s look at this piece by piece.

This is a man who has suffered physically and emotionally, and yet his suffering has not caused him to turn his back on God, or on hope.

Even in the midst of suffering, he has absolute faith in Jesus’ ability to deliver him, yet his faith doesn’t drive him to demand anything from Jesus. Rather, he approaches Jesus without a shred of pretense.

He approaches Jesus in utter humility, throwing himself at Jesus’ feet. Saying “I know you don’t have to. I know you don’t even have to look at me. You have no reason that I can imagine to take pity on me outside of the goodness of your heart. I am totally at your disposal.”

And he takes a posture of surrender. He is not assuming a certain outcome. He knows that Jesus can; but he does not assume that he will, he is merely stepping out on the basis of this desperate belief. And he’s placing himself at Jesus’ feet. He has no where else to turn; he knows Jesus is his only option.

I wonder, when I look at my own life, and the lives of those around me, has our need created in us a desperation that will drive us to the feet of Jesus? Do we merely have a belief that lets us off the hook? Do we merely have a desperation that doubts whether Jesus is able to help?

Belief without desperation will allow us to keep Jesus at arms length, and desperation without belief will lead to despair. We, like the leper, need to allow our need to drive us to our knees before Jesus.

So now, with the leper on his knees before Jesus, we return to our question: What will Jesus do when He comes face to face with deep need? Is He willing? And what we find is that Jesus’ response answers our question. And in our passage, we see Jesus respond in three ways: He touches, He speaks, and He instructs.

So let’s turn now and consider Jesus’ response. And in response, we read that…

Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man.

How does Jesus respond? What does He do? Without saying a word, Jesus reaches out, and he touches him.

This touch is so incredible because it was so unnecessary. Jesus had the power to heal with a word. We have seen Him do miracles with less! And notice, His touch doesn’t even heal the man! It’s completely useless. It’s not solving the problem of His physical suffering. But Jesus chooses to touch the untouchable.

And as a result, this man should have transferred his impurity and uncleanness to Jesus. Jesus, by law, would become ritually impure. He would no longer be fit for God’s presence. And yet, Jesus touches him anyway. Why?

Because Jesus wanted to comfort and affirm the man. Because Jesus knew the power of touch, not necessarily to heal the body, but to comfort the soul.

I wonder how long it had been since this man was physically touched by another human being. Could it have been years?

Going without physical contact is so damaging to human beings. And I don’t just mean theologically, I mean scientifically. There’s actually research that digs into this that has become really popular over the last several years as we were living through COVID. There’s even a term being used by those in mental wellness called “touch starvation.”

Research from 2019 explains that you receive a sense of comfort, security, and satisfaction from physical contact.

You bond with others from human touch and can experience distress without it. Lack of physical touch can lead to feelings of emptiness and loneliness.

One article from our own Ohio State University Medical Center went as far as to say that “humans need physical touch just as much as they need food and water.”

All of this points to the way that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, knit together by God to have a complex interplay between soul and body. We are not just souls that have bodies; we are a complex mix of the two. So even though Jesus’ touch didn’t cure the man’s disease, it was helping to address the man’s deep need for community.

In a world of technology that seems to make our bodies obsolete, this all may seem strange to us. We need to learn the ancient, and yet so advanced wisdom of Jesus. Our bodies matter. Being with other humans physically matters. Our bodies are not just temporary things to be discarded one day. That’s not Christianity; that’s Gnosticism! We were made for a bodily existence.

And when we neglect our bodies, when we live without reference to them, is it any wonder that things don’t seem like they’re going the way they should within us? Is it any wonder that we have such a mental-health epidemic? We put such a freight on our minds and on our souls because we pretend like the body doesn’t exist. But Jesus knows that our bodies mediate our relationships.

And sometimes, when we’re in the depths of suffering and loneliness, just the physical presence of a friend can be such a healing thing. And so seeing his need, Jesus addresses it in part with a touch. Not just to heal, but to comfort the man. To treat him like more than just a problem. To treat him like a human being.

But Jesus doesn’t only use his body to respond, He also uses his words. We continue on in our text and read...

“I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” And immediately the leprosy left him.

As we saw earlier, the leper had no question as to whether or not Jesus could help him; the question was always about Jesus’ love and compassion. Does Jesus care enough to turn and address me? And the answer is unequivocally, “Yes.” Jesus sees the man, and the parallel in Mark makes this even more clear: “Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man” (Mk 1:41).

Jesus sees the need, and He is filled with compassion that moves Him to act, and that compassion is revealed more completely in His words. So you can write down: In Jesus’ words, He is revealing the heart of a Father who sees our pain and who cares deeply for us.

We do not serve an idle God who is ambivalent to our struggles. We serve a God who cared enough to come down into the dirt with us and touch us, and to show us what He’s like, and to tell us what He’s like. He is a God who is not only able to help us, but who is willing to save.

But I wonder: do we believe that’s still true? Do we still believe that we serve a God that is both able and willing? See because the leper had no doubt about Jesus’ ability; He only doubted his willingness. And I think that’s some of us as well. Some of us doubt the willingness of Jesus. But I think some of us assume Jesus’ willingness and doubt His abiliy.

Which is it for you? Do you doubt the ability of God? Do you doubt the heart of God? Because both of them are displayed most fully on the cross of Jesus Christ.

So if you’re in a place this morning where you feel like you’re alone, that God has abandoned you in your deep need, my invitation to you is to open your eyes! See His arm reaching out to the leper. And see His arms, spread wide, and nailed into a cross in an embrace! Making provision for your deepest needs. Because “God demonstrated His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for the ungodly” (Rom 5:8).

The cross is an eternal display of the willingness of God to save—of the UNwillingness of God to sit idly by while His children suffer broken and alone. And it is an eternal display of the desperate and ferocious love of God. Oh what love the Father has lavished, that we might be called His children! And yet Jesus had to be cut off from the temple in heaven; He had to take on our uncleanness and impurity, so that we could be welcomed home. This is the love of our God, who is both willing and able to save!

And so out of His great love, Jesus sees the man, He touches the man, He speaks to the man, and, yes, He heals the man.

But He doesn’t stop there. In many ways, the healing could be the end of the story. But Jesus’ response continues. And so, having cleansed the leper, Jesus goes on now to instruct Him. Let’s turn back to the text:

Then Jesus ordered him, “Don’t tell anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them.”

When Jesus instructs the man, He’s telling the man, in effect, you’ve been healed, but that’s not the point. Your healing is not the end of the story.

It’s like Jesus is saying go be restored to community. Go enjoy worshipping God and being in His presence. Do what Moses commanded so everyone will know you’re ready to be welcomed home.

Because for Jesus, the healing is not the END of the story; the healing is just the very BEGINNING of the adventure. Jesus doesn’t save us from our trouble and then beam us up to heaven. He saves us and He cleanses us so that we can live the kind of life that we were created for!

In all three of these things, with His touch, with His words, and with His instructions, Jesus is doing so much more than just healing the man. Jesus is restoring the man to new life.

AND THIS IS THE KIND OF DEEP HEALING THAT JESUS BRINGS. The disease was only skin deep. But both the leper and Jesus recognized that there were issues that go down to the soul. And Jesus isn’t satisfied only to address the skin-deep issues. And He isn’t satisfied to leave the man living a broken life. Jesus wants to invite this man into the deep.

And the same can be true for us this morning. Jesus wants to address so much more than our surface level problems. He wants to address us. He wants to address our inner drowning in our thoughts. He wants to address our suffocating loneliness. He wants to address our deep shame. He wants to restore us to the kinds of relationships that we were created for.

So often we want to make Jesus about the miracles and about the healings but we fail to realize that the miracles are supposed to point us to a Person. This was the issue with the crowds in the end of our passage. They were chasing down Jesus because of what He did, not who He was.

But Jesus didn’t give us a solution only to send us on our way. Jesus came to the earth and performed miracles to point us to Himself, and so that we would recognize that He is the One in whom we can find life, and so that we would present Him with not only our problems, but with our very selves, with our very lives.

All we have to do is approach Him with the broken pieces.

CONCLUSION

As we close, I want to return and finish the story from the beginning of our time.

There I was. In deep need. One by one I picked up the broken pieces of the mess I’d made. I knew I was in trouble. And I didn’t know what my dad would do. I knew he had every right to be mad at me. He had every right to be upset with the brokenness I’d caused. But I had nowhere else to turn. So I walked down the stairs with these broken pieces, and I walked into the kitchen where my dad was, tears streaming down my face, and I don’t even think I could say anything, I just held up the pieces.

And without hesitation my dad rushed in and scooped me up in a big hug. And that’s all I remember. No punishment. No yelling. It was like the brokenness didn’t matter anymore, because I was right back where I was supposed to be.

Many of you recognize your brokenness this morning. You know your need. And Jesus is ready to restore you. But the question that remains is this: Will you let Him? Jesus came into contact with the leper because the leper approached Jesus. Will you approach Jesus this morning?

Because only when we approach Jesus with faith, humility, and surrender do we receive the deep healing that Jesus died to give.

Every one of us is being called deeper this morning. There’s deep healing available for us in the person of Jesus Christ. Will you approach Him?

Let’s reflect on that as we listen to this song. Jesus is here this morning, and He’s ready to come face to face with your lonliness, with your brokenness, with your sin. And when we bring ourselves and our sin to Jesus, the Scriptures say that He is faithful and just to forgive us, and to purify us from all unrighteousness.

He already conquered it all on the cross. And now He invites us to the table. So let’s examine ourselves as we get ready to come to celebrate communion, and let’s offer all that we are to Him.

*pray

*communion instructions