God For The Forgotten

Introduction: We Lepers

Kalaupapa is one of the most gorgeous parts of Molokai, which is one of the beautiful islands of Hawaii. If you saw pictures, it’s a place you’d want to go. Which is ironic, because for a long time it was a place no one wanted to go. You see Kalaupapa was once home to a leper colony.

In the 1840s, cases of leprosy started to break out in Hawaii. The government decided that anyone who contracted the disease needed to be separated, isolated. And they chose the Kalaupapa section of Molokai.

You can picture how the lepers who were left there to die must have felt. “We have been forgotten. They just gave up on us. Apparently, we are not worthy of their attention.”

A man named Damien, Father Damien, was a priest serving in Hawaii. In 1873, at the age of 33, he wrote his superiors, “I want to sacrifice myself for the poor lepers.” They originally denied his request, but he was persistent, and they eventually said yes.

And then … Father Damien showed up. He moved to Kalaupapa, and for sixteen years Father Damien lived amongst them. He poured his life out serving them, loving them, burying them. He learned their language, organized schools, bands and choirs. He built homes for them to live in, and coffins for them to be buried in. He told them that they were in this together.

And he always spoke to them of the love of God. He explained that God is for the lepers. They were not forgotten by God.

One day he began his sermon with the words, “We lepers” … and everyone realized that they were now truly in it together. He had truly become one of them. He had caught their disease. He had chosen to live as they lived, and now he would die as they died. Father Damien died at the age of 55.

THE SILENT TREATMENT

Open your Bibles to the last book of the Old Testament, Malachi. Look at Malachi 1:2, “I have loved you,” says the Lord. This is what we’re learning in this series. God is for us. He loves us. And that’s the theme of the Bible. Basically, the Bible is a love letter from God. And here he says, “I have loved you.”

Look at Malachi 2:1, “And now this admonition is for you, O priests.” So this is a message from God to the religious leaders. And we’re going to see that it’s harsh. A lot of people talk about how God is harsh in the Bible. But you should take a look. Because you’ll find that God isn’t harsh with people who are hurting, who are confused, who are broken, or trapped in their sin. No, God is full of compassion for people like that.

God says harsh things to people who hold the power of religion – who are supposed to be helping people find their way into a growing relationship with God – but who use that power in the wrong way. Who don’t help, but hinder people from coming to God.

Malachi 2:2, “If you do not listen, and if you do not set your heart to honor my name,” says the LORD Almighty, “I will send a curse upon you, and I will curse your blessings. Yes, I have already cursed them, because you have not set your heart to honor me.” Again, God is talking to the religious leaders. And they were out giving out their blessings. But God was like: I know the truth about you. And you can pretend to give blessings, but the truth is you’re using religion to keep people from me instead of bringing them to me.

And God’s last words in the book of Malachi, his last words in the Old Testament, come in Malachi 4:5-6, “See, I will send you the prophet Elijah before that great and dreadful day of the LORD comes. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse.”

Those are God’s last words in the Old Testament. And then there was … silence. 400 years of silence. There’s a 400-year gap from Malachi (the end of the Old Testament) to Matthew (the beginning of the New Testament). Just silence.

Have you ever given someone the silent treatment? Or maybe you’ve received the silent treatment? When you have a fight, like with your spouse, it takes humility to reconcile the relationship. I wonder if it was possible that God was waiting for the people to humble themselves? For the priests to say, “We don’t want to be priests without God.” But no, that’s not what happened. Apparently they were ok with it. And they just continued as if God was still in the conversation. The priests continued to go through the motions like God was with them and there was real meaning in what they were doing, but … no.

The silence was due to the religious leaders, but you think about those who weren’t priests, the rest of us, the normal people. Some of whom believed in God, wanted to hear from God. They must have wondered, “Have we been forgotten? Maybe God has just given up on us. Maybe we’re not worth his attention.”

WE HUMANS…

And then … God showed up. He moved to earth. And for about 33 years Jesus lived amongst us.

I like how the Message version paraphrases John 1:14, saying that Jesus “became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.” Or as we more commonly hear it: ““And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us,”.

The Bible describes Jesus this way in Philippians 2:6-8:

6 Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; 7 rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.

8 And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross!

It was if God was saying, “We humans” … and people realized that God was with them, and we were now truly in it together. He had truly become one of us. And, on the cross, he took on our sin disease. He had chosen to live as we live, and he died as we die.

And it became clear that humanity had not been forgotten. That God hadn’t given up on us. That he didn’t consider us unworthy of his attention. That God was for the forgotten.

But between his birth and death, Jesus did ministry. And one of the most notable things about it was that Jesus repeatedly ministered to the forgotten.

There’s a story in the Bible, in John chapter four, that starts out, John 4:3-4, “When the Lord learned of this, He left Judea and went back once more to Galilee. Now He had to go through Samaria.” Now you need to know some history here. The Jews and the Samaritans were two different races of people. And the Jewish and Samaritan people lived in two different areas, with clearly defined boundaries. And they hated each other. They despised each other to such an extent that they wouldn’t even travel through each other’s territory. So if a Jew wanted to go from where he or she was to a place on the other side of Samara, that Jew would travel all the way around Samaria, which included two trips across the Jordan River, to get there. That was the regular practice of the day for Jews. Jews like … Jesus. Jesus was Jewish. So in verse four when it says, “He had to go through Samaria,” it isn’t talking about a geographical necessity. No other Jewish person would of, or would have had to. In fact, by doing this Jesus probably opened Himself up to a lot of criticism and questioning. But Jesus had a reason why he had to go through Samaria. The reason, we find out, is because there’s a woman there. And this woman had made a mess of her life. She slept around with the men in town – and so they used her, and the women hated her. And we get the idea that she’s living in guilt and shame. And as Jesus travels into Samaria, he sends his followers off an errand, and he makes his way straight to this woman. Jesus had to go through Samaria, because this woman was shunned by everyone in her town. She was ignored by people, but Jesus wanted to make sure she knew – she was not forgotten by God.

There’s another story, we find in Matthew, chapter eight, where Jesus and his closest followers get in a boat and they start traveling across a lake to the region of the Garasenes. A storm comes up, and the Bible says that waves are breaking across the boat, Jesus’ friends are screaming, “We’re gonna drown!” And you’d think they’d just head back, but they don’t. It’s like they have to get to the region of the Garasenes. Finally they arrive. They stay there for only a short part of a day, only one thing happens during that time, and then they go straight back. So the obvious question is: What was the one thing they went to do, that was so important it was worth the entire trip and risking their lives in this storm? Well, there was a man there. And his life was a mess. In fact, it was so bad, and he was considered so dangerous, that he was kept locked up in a cemetery away from the town. You know what Jesus did on his trip? He went and spent time with that man. Jesus had to go to the region of the Garasenes, even though a storm, because this man was shunned by everyone in his town. He was ignored by people, but Jesus wanted to make sure he knew – he was not forgotten by God.

I bet pretty quickly in Jesus’ ministry it became obvious to everyone that Jesus was for the forgotten. I think that’s why the story we find in Mark, chapter one happens. In Mark one we meet a man with leprosy. Back then, the first sign of the dreaded disease of leprosy was considered a death sentence. There was no cure for it and so you just had to wait to die. The disease was considered highly contagious and so if you contracted it you were removed from society. You were sent off to live in a leper colony so you wouldn’t contaminate anyone else. You were removed from society and you were forgotten.

Lepers knew they were to keep their distance from people so as not to contaminate or inconvenience them. And that’s why what happens in this story is so remarkable. Mark 1:40, “A man with leprosy came to Him and begged on his knees, ‘If you are willing, You can make me clean.’” Notice he didn’t say, “If you are able.” He said, “If you are willing.” He doesn’t doubt that Jesus can heal him, he only doubts whether Jesus would want to. Because he had been given up on by everyone. He was well aware that he was not worth anyone’s attention. But he was holding onto hope that maybe Jesus really was different. And … Jesus was. Mark 1:41-42, “Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man, ‘I am willing,’ He said. ‘Be clean!’ Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.” Why did Jesus touch this untouchable man? Because Jesus was filled with compassion. See this leper was shunned by everyone in his town. He was ignored by people, but Jesus wanted to make sure he knew – he was not forgotten by God.

IF YOU FEEL FORGOTTEN

And so if you feel forgotten, let me assure you that you are not forgotten by God. In the book of Isaiah we read of a time when people felt forgotten by God. Check out God’s response in Isaiah 49. 13-16:

13 Shout for joy, you heavens; rejoice, you earth; burst into song, you mountains! For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.

14 But Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me.”

15 “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! 16 See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.

God says, “Forgotten? Can a mother forget her baby? No. But even if she could, I will not forget you.” So if you feel forgotten, well, God is for the forgotten. And he has not forgotten you.

Now that may be very reassuring for some of you, but perhaps not for others. You might say, “I hear you, and I get it, but still, I feel forgotten by God. And I’ve felt this way for awhile.”

I understand. And that’s actually something most Christians go through. And it may not be all bad.

A guy of the Christian faith from the past called John of the Cross wrote about this experience. He called it “the dark night of the soul” and he described how it’s often a part of a believer’s experience not long after becoming a Christian. It is, he said, a necessary part of growth. He described how typically when you become a Christian you feel God’s presence and want to know more about God. You long to pray and worship feels alive. You find yourself not wanting to sin. You desire to do random acts of kindness. But then somehow something changes. You find yourself feeling distant from God. You wonder if God has abandoned you. You feel forgotten. And it may seem like this is a horrible time and without purpose, but maybe it’s not. Maybe something very important is happening. It could be that this experience can be a part of growing up.

A preacher named John Ortberg compares it to learning to ride a bike. Do you remember your first bike and learning how to ride it? Do you remember the first day your dad took the training wheels off? For me, I wasn’t quite ready to go solo, so my dad held the back of the bike with one hand and ran alongside me. I felt like I was a pro, but the truth was that he was behind me propping me up. I couldn’t really ride yet. Then one day he did a strange thing – he let go. “That was a dirty trick,” I thought, because I fell. Hard. And he kept letting go, and I kept falling. Apparently either the bike was lopsided or I was. I’d ask, “Dad, how come you can’t keep holding on?” “Because if I do you’ll never learn how. You’ll never ride on your own. Do you want to be twenty-five years old and still have me running behind you holding up your bike?” “Yes.” I did! It sounded better than this. But in retrospect, I see his wisdom. He hadn’t abandoned me. It was a hard way to learn how to ride a bike, but it was the only way.

When you first ride on your own, unsupported, you feel like you’re doing worse than ever. You’re falling all over the place. But the fact is, you’re growing. You just don’t know it.

C.S. Lewis wrote that when, in the first days of spiritual life, God gives us freedom from temptation and the desire to pray, He’s making it easy for us. And we’re tempted to think, “It’s all me! I’ve reached spiritual giant-hood already!” Lewis went on to say, “But God never allows this state of affairs to last long. Sooner or later he withdraws, if not in fact, at least from their obvious experience, all those supports and incentives. He leaves the creature to stand up on its own legs – to carry out from the will alone duties which have lost all relish. It is during such tough periods, much more than during peak periods, that he is growing us into the sort of creatures He wants us to be.”

You’re not forgotten, even if you feel like you are. And if you feel like you are, maybe God’s doing something really special in your life right now.

FOLLOWERS ARE FOR THE FORGOTTEN

It’s so good to know that we’re not forgotten, and it’s so important for us to let others know.

As followers of Jesus, we need to be for the forgotten. And, as Jesus did, we need to minister to the forgotten.

o Is there a ministry in your church that is targeting a forgotten segment of society? Rochester church and the inkers.

Maybe you hear that and you’re wondering: What should I do?

One person who really got this idea that people who follow Jesus need to be for the forgotten was Mother Teresa. When she was young, Mother Teresa was on a train and felt God was calling her to serve the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, India. And then … Mother Teresa showed up. She moved to Calcutta, and for the rest of her life she lived amongst the poor there. Like Father Damien, ministered to the lepers there. It’s interesting – if you study her life you learn that Mother Teresa often struggled with feeling forgotten by God, but she decided to focus her life on ministering to the forgotten. And loving the forgotten brought her joy.

A person once said to Mother Teresa, “I wouldn’t touch a leper for a thousand dollars.” Mother Teresa replied, “Neither would I, but I would willingly touch him for the love of God.” She understood that God is for the forgotten, and so his followers need to be for the forgotten.

People who were inspired by Mother Teresa’s example often asked her what they should do. Many asked, “Should I buy a one-way ticket to Calcutta?” Here’s the response she used to give:

I know you think you should make a trip to Calcutta, but I strongly advise you to save your airfare … It’s easy to love people far away. It’s not always easy to love those who live right next to us. There are thousands of people dying for a piece of bread, but there are thousands more dying for a bit of love or a bit of acknowledgment.

You don’t have to move to Calcutta. Make sure you don’t forget the next person, because they need to know that they’re not forgotten.

So what could you do:

o For the next person in your neighborhood?

o For the next person at your job?

o For the next person in your school?

o For the next person in this church?

Who’s the person you could show up for? Move towards? Live amongst?

Like Father Damien, what could you do to go to that person?

Like Mother Teresa, who could you touch for the love of God?

Like Jesus, who could you let know that even if they’re shunned, ignored, they’re not forgotten by God?