Touching the Untouchable

We’re going to look at Luke 5:12-16. But before we read that I want to read this from Max Lucado. This isn’t Scripture but it’s a pretty decent picture of what life would have been like for this leper in our story:

One year during harvest my grip on the scythe seemed weak. The tips of my fingers numbed. First one finger then another. Within a short time I could grip the tool but scarcely feel it. By the end of the season, I felt nothing at all. The hand grasping the handle might as well have belonged to someone else—the feeling was gone. I said nothing to my wife, but I know she suspected something. How could she not? I carried my hand against my body like a wounded bird.

One afternoon I plunged my hands into a basin of water intending to wash my face. The water reddened. My finger was bleeding, bleeding freely. I didn’t even know I was wounded. How did I cut myself? On a knife? Did my hand slide across the sharp edge of metal? It must have, but I didn’t feel anything.

“It’s on your clothes too,” my wife said softly. She was behind me. Before looking at her, I looked down at the crimson spots on my robe. For the longest time I stood over the basin, staring at my hand. Somehow I knew my life was being forever altered.

“Shall I go with you to tell the priest?” she asked. “No,” I sighed, “I’ll go alone.”

I turned and looked into her moist eyes. Standing next to her was our three-year-old daughter. Squatting, I gazed into her face and stroked her cheek, saying nothing. What could I say? I stood and looked again at my wife. She touched my shoulder, and with my good hand, I touched hers. It would be our final touch.

Five years have passed, and no one has touched me since.

The priest didn’t touch me. He looked at my hand, now wrapped in a rag. He looked at my face, now shadowed in sorrow. I’ve never faulted him for what he said. He was only doing as he was instructed. He covered his mouth and extended his hand, palm forward. “You are unclean,” he told me. With one pronouncement I lost my family, my farm, my future, my friends.

My wife met me at the city gates with a sack of clothing and bread and coins. She didn’t speak. By now friends had gathered. What I saw in their eyes was a precursor to what I’ve seen in every eye since: fearful pity. As I stepped out, they stepped back. Their horror of my disease was greater than their concern for my heart—so they, and everyone else I have seen since, stepped back.

Oh, how I repulsed those who saw me. Five years of leprosy had left my hands gnarled. Tips of my fingers were missing as were portions of an ear and my nose. At the sight of me, fathers grabbed their children. Mothers covered their faces. Children pointed and stared.

The rags on my body couldn’t hide my sores. Nor could the wrap on my face hide the rage in my eyes. I didn’t even try to hide it. How many nights did I shake my crippled fist at the silent sky? “What did I do to deserve this?” But never a reply.

Some think I sinned. Some think my parents sinned. I don’t know. All I know is that I grew so tired of it all: sleeping in the colony, smelling the stench. I grew so tired of the bell I was required to wear around my neck to warn people of my presence. As if I needed it. One glance and the announcements began, “Unclean! Unclean! Unclean!”

It would have been a man like this that Lucado portrays in our story this morning. He’s outside the city—he cannot live in Jerusalem. If he goes into town he has to shout “unclean!” Everything about his life is shame-inducing. Now listen to what happens when he meets Jesus:

READ LUKE 5:12-16

One touch. And he is healed. There aren’t a ton of stories that make an appearance in all three gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke. But this one does. It’s certain that Jesus healed many lepers. So why highlight this one—why tell us about this encounter?

It’s a little different in Luke than in Matthew and Mark. Or rather we get a few details here that we don’t in the others. Matthew doesn’t tells us about the crowds growing after this. Mark does and he puts the blame squarely on the leper who couldn’t stay quiet. And neither Matthew or Mark has verse 16—Jesus going off in desolate places to pray. That’s a theme that’s appearing here a few times.

Something else that is happening here in this section is that Jesus is doing stuff that is going to upset the religious leaders. Here he touches a leper. You aren’t supposed to do that. Next week he is going to forgive sins—only God is supposed to do that. Then he goes and has a party with tax collectors and sinners—nope. Then his followers don’t fast when they are supposed to. Then he has the audacity to pluck grain on the Sabbath and his followers eat it....then he heals a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath. That could have waited.

That is a big part of what God is showing us here in this text. He’s showing us that Jesus is different. He’s fulfilling Isaiah 61. He’s bringing the kingdom of God. This is going to be set against the backdrop of a religious system that isn’t healing—isn’t fulfilling their calling to be a light to the nations.

So what do we do with this text this morning? I think there is a message here that speaks to all of our shame. It’s a wonderful message for those who might be or feel untouchable. It’s a tremendous message of grace.

But there is also a message here for the church. And who we are to be. So, I think in this you have who Christ is—and what that means for us. And then who the church is to be—and what that means for us. Let’s walk through the text and then make a couple of application points.

Verse 12. While he was in one of the cities. Luke puts him here outside of the more religious areas. He’s in the city. He’s not outside the gate of Jerusalem. He’s not in a place where he’d be intentionally pursuing a guy with leprosy. This leper takes the initiative.

There came a man full of leprosy. You already got a bit of a picture of this here from what I read earlier from Lucado. But this was a skin disease…the term covers quite a few of them. They didn’t differentiate. Some where highly contagious and dangerous. Others not. But they had the same prescription pretty much across the board. Leviticus 13 outlines much of this and the details of it.

But it was a type of wasting disease where the nerve endings wouldn’t work. So you’d end up touching fire, cutting yourself, all sorts of things and you wouldn’t know it. You just couldn’t feel anymore. It was a horrible disease but there was a social aspect to it that was probably worse.

Now I don’t think we really understand how dangerous, scary, and repulsive this would have been. This isn’t just a little boy being afraid he is going to get cooties because a girl touched him while playing kickball. This is probably closer to the way that people responded to people with AIDS in the 80’s before we really understood the disease. If a leper touched you then you’d become a leper yourself.

The Book of Leviticus prescribes how a leper should act:

“The leprous person who has the disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head hang loose, and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease. He is unclean. He shall live alone. His dwelling shall be outside the camp. (Leviticus 13:45-46 ESV)

To get leprosy was to become a social outcast. And this leper in the story isn’t really playing by the rules. We don’t know if he was shouting “Unclean, unclean” but he certainly wasn’t supposed to be approaching Jesus.

But that’s what we see happens in verse 12. He sees Jesus. Falls on his face. And begs him. “Lord, if you will you can make me clean.”

Can you hear the shame in those words? If you will....he knew that Jesus COULD heal him. He just wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

He’s not doubting Jesus’ power. He knows that he can do anything. What he is doubting is whether or not he wants to. Did you come for lepers too, Jesus? Jesus has cast out a demon just by his word. He has healed a mother and law just by grabbing her hand and pulling her out of bed. There is no question that he could also heal a man with leprosy. But would he?

This is what shame will do though.

Shame has a natural affinity with self-protection and unbelief. It hides form others, feels undeserving of anything good, and believes it will contaminate whatever comes close. (Welch, 137)

Maybe that’s you this morning. I know that Jesus CAN heal. I know that Jesus CAN set things right. I know that Jesus CAN forgive me. But does he WANT to? Does he really want to heal?

Let these words sink in...”When he saw Jesus.”

I’ve been wrestling with these words from Ed Welch this week:

But look at what happened when Jesus came. Unclean people suddenly were filled with hope. Instead of hiding from the world, they became indifferent to the derision of the relatively clean townspeople and boldly went out to see Jesus. When they saw him, they felt compelled to touch him because they understood that their salvation was near. They came alive! (137)

Jesus gave those broken by sin, broken by the fall, broken by others, he gave them hope. Do you feel this way? I mean be honest. Do you have this type of hope and confidence? If you mess up are you thinking....”oh, I bet Jesus can fix this”? If you’re broken and ravaged and hurting and sore and in need of healing...

I don’t think Jesus has changed. But I read these words about 20 years ago…and they’ve stuck with me since then, in fact I think I’ve even shared them with you before…every known and then I’m able to mute them a little…but they always keep coming back up:

“A prostitute came to me in wretched straits, homeless, sick, unable to buy food for her two-year-old daughter. Through sobs and tears, she told me she had been renting out her daughter – two years old! – to men interested in kinky sex. She made more renting out her daughter for an hour than she could earn on her own in a night. She had to do it, she said, to support her own drug habit. I could hardly bear hearing her sordid story. For one thing, it made me legally liable – I’m required to report cases of child abuse. I had no idea what to say to this woman.

“At last I asked if she had ever thought of going to a church for help. I will never forget the look of pure, naïve shock that crossed her face. ‘Church!’ she cried. ‘Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They’d just make me feel worse.'” (What’s So Amazing, p. 11)

I just can’t get this out of my heart this week. When they saw Jesus....hope...

When they saw Calvary....

We’re to be representatives of Jesus. We are to be imaging who Christ is. When they think of us it shouldn’t be a huge leap to then realize who Jesus is and what God is like. We won’t be perfect in this, we need healing too. But there shouldn’t be a huge barrier, a huge difference, there.

But I want us to think through something together for a moment. Why was this leper ostracized like this? Why couldn’t he touch someone? Why did he have to live outside the city?

Was it because the Pharisees had distorted God’s law? Was it because they viewed them as an eye sore and just not supposed to be in the community. Judged by God? We have to be careful how we answer that.

Yes, they were distorting things. Yes, they had horrible judgmental attitudes. They have much to give account for. But having this leper live outside the city gate…that comes straight from the Bible. It was there to protect the community. It was a loving, but a difficult, part of the law. So these “rules” aren’t exactly the problem.

The problem is a fallen world. The problem is that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. When Messiah comes—he’s going to heal hearts and He’s going to heal bodies. This is one of those things where the Law is connected to our grief. It’s there because of the hardness of our hearts. It’s there to protect us. But it’s not the way that it necessarily ought to be. It’s there to lead us to Christ. But when Christ comes…that’s when we get this substantial healing.

The issue with the Pharisees here isn’t that they are making provisions for this brokenness. They aren’t wrong for saying, “you have to live outside the city gate.” They COULD have broken-heartedly sent this guy off outside the camp.

But the PROBLEM is that they had become comfortable with a broken system. They had fed off this broken system. The problem is that they weren’t praying “COME LORD, COME LORD.” They weren’t grieving the leprosy in the land. This was a sign of brokenness. They should have been grieving with them.

You can see this contrasted here with the compassion of Jesus. Verse 13. You’ve got this leper, “if you will you can make me clean.” And Jesus…stretched out his hand and touched him....Oh the beauty of this. He stretched out his hand…he goes to the man…Jesus isn’t supposed to be doing this. But he does. The holy…the truly holy…isn’t contaminated but it transforms. Rather than Jesus becoming a leper the leper receives life and healing.

One word. That’s all Jesus needs to say. But he touches him. That’s not necessary for Jesus to heal. We have already seen that in Luke. He healed someone with a word. But here he intentionally touches the man. Again, I turn to Max Lucado because I appreciate the way he tells this story:

“Master!”

He stopped and looked in my direction as did dozens of others. A flood of fear swept across the crowd. Arms flew in front of faces. Children ducked behind parents. “Unclean!” someone shouted. Again, I don’t blame them. I was a huddled mass of death. But I scarcely heard them. I scarcely saw them. Their panic I’d seen a thousand times. His compassion, however, I’d never beheld. Everyone stepped back except him. He stepped toward me. Toward me.

Five years ago my wife had stepped toward me. She was the last to do so. Now he did. I did not move. I just spoke. “Lord, you can heal me if you will.” Had he healed me with a word, I would have been thrilled. Had he cured me with a prayer, I would have rejoiced. But he wasn’t satisfied with speaking to me. He drew near me. He touched me. Five years ago my wife had touched me. No one had touched me since. Until today.

“I will.” His words were as tender as his touch. “Be healed!”

Energy flooded my body like water through a furrowed field. In an instant, in a moment, I felt warmth where there had been numbness. I felt strength where there had been atrophy. My back straightened, and my head lifted. Where I had been eye level with his belt, I now stood eye level with his face. His smiling face.

He cupped his hands on my cheeks and drew me so near I could feel the warmth of his breath and see the wetness in his eyes.

I want you to know that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He still heals. He still touches the leper. He still touches the untouchable.

One more thing we have to see here.

Show yourself…keep it quiet. What does this tell us…it’s personal. It’s for him. It’s not for show. But something else is happening here too.

Jesus tells him to not tell anybody. (There’s a bit of a misunderstanding about who Jesus is…he doesn’t need this publicity at this point). But look at what happens....and this is more explicit in the gospel of Mark…but the leper doesn’t listen.

The cleansed man has his shame removed and he cannot shut up about it. He doesn’t just tell the priest. He tells everybody. and because of this…Jesus is now driven to a desolate place.

The two have swapped places. Previously the leper had been unable to enter towns and had to live in desolation. Now he is back in the community, and Jesus is forced to the desolate places. The outsider and the insider have reversed roles. In a sense, Jesus has become contaminated by this man. And it is key for us all.

This is ultimately what is going to happen on the cross. God made him who knew no sin to become sin on our behalf that in him we might become the righteousness of God. Jesus was crucified outside of the gate…outside the city.

This is how he ultimately deals with our shame....

Application:

Come to Christ for the first time…in all your shame. Jesus is different than everything else.

Here we remember that the testimony of the New Testament is that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” The same Christ who wept at the tomb of Lazarus weeps with us in our lonely despair. The same one who reached out and touched lepers puts his arm around us today when we feel misunderstood and sidelined. The Jesus who reached out and cleansed messy sinners reaches into our souls and answers our half-hearted plea for mercy with the mighty invincible cleansing of one who cannot bear to do otherwise. -Dane Ortlund

2. Follow Christ in this type of mission....are we faithful in this?

You realize that this is YOUR story, right? If you are follower of Jesus you may not have had leprosy but our hearts were just as cold and dead and unfeeling towards God—or rather we were actively in enmity with God. Just as a lepers lack of nerve endings cause him to fight against His body, our hearts at birth do this very thing with our Maker.

But with the touch of Jesus we are transformed.