Touching the Untouchable
This is the talk I gave at Oasis last Saturday, part of a series we're doing on parts of the body. For the full effect, go find a copy of "The Fatal Wound" by Switchfoot.
When we were talking about the “body parts” series and Troy asked me if I would do the teaching on hands, I started reading through the gospels to look at what Jesus did with His hands, and what I found was pretty amazing. Jesus used his hands a lot—sometimes in ordinary ways and sometimes in very extraordinary—even miraculous—ways. One thing that stuck out to me over and over is that whenever the Bible mentions that Jesus touches someone, something amazing happens.
But out of all the stories of things Jesus did that we see in the Bible, the one that stuck out to me the most was the story of Jesus healing the leper. There are a couple of different instances of Jesus healing someone with leprosy, and this is the first of those—you can find it in Matthew 8, Mark 1, and Luke 5. This is definitely one of those instances of Jesus touching someone and amazing things happening, and for those of us who have grown up in church, we’ve heard the story before and it will sound familiar to us. I’m going to read the story as it’s written in the book of Luke, and as I read it I want you to visualize the scene—close your eyes if it helps.
Luke 5:12-13
12While 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."
13Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. "I am willing," he said. "Be clean!" And immediately the leprosy left him.
Ok, now that I’ve read the story, I want to expand a little bit on this so we can see more clearly what’s going on.
First, to understand the story, we need to know what a leper is. More commonly known as Hansens’ Disease, leprosy is a condition that damages and deadens nerve endings, but it’s most commonly characterized by its outwardly visible effects: skin lesions. In the Bible, conditions that were visible through knots, scabs, white places, and other nastiness in the skin are referred to as leprosy. So whatever it was that this guy had, it was painful and disfiguring, and generally not a fun disease to have.
Leprosy was a contagious disease and declared unclean by law, meaning that anyone who was “clean” could not touch them. And in that culture, clean and unclean was a big deal. Staying clean and avoiding the unclean was a priority. So even though quarantine is a good idea to stop the spread of a disease, you can see that this would have repercussions in how these people were viewed. There was a strong social stigma attached to it. Lepers didn’t even live inside the city—they lived in a camp on the outskirts of town, only in contact with other lepers. They were completely disassociated from society--non persons. And touching them would immediately put the toucher in the same boat. To touch something unclean causes you to become unclean by law. To keep from making others unclean and from spreading the disease, the unclean person was required to let others know he was unclean so they wouldn’t accidentally come too close and be contaminated. So on top of the pain of the disease itself, the sick person was forced to make himself more miserable by driving away anyone who came close. Imagine the pain of not only being sick, but also being completely isolated.
Maybe originally maybe he thought that whatever was wrong would clear up, but it just got worse and worse—so bad, actually, that Luke points out that he was “covered” with leprosy. By this point, there was no hope of the disease just going away. And even if there were a cure, what doctor would risk his life and his social standing to touch him?
It doesn’t say where this man has heard of Jesus from, but obviously he has some knowledge of what Jesus has done and the authority he seems to have over sickness and even demons. If this man had read the prophets, maybe he even had an idea or a just a hope that this could be the Messiah that was promised. He knew enough about what this man had said and done, and that he had the power to heal. So why not ask? But even with the courage to ask, a little bit of doubt was still there. We see that in the way that he brings his request to Jesus. “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” Notice he didn’t say heal my disease or relieve my pain—he said make me clean. Put me back in society. Let me be alive with the world around me again. But first, “if you are willing.” Jesus had the power, but if he was so holy and had so much authority, would he care about a leper? Would he come close enough to heal him, or maybe he could do it from a distance.
I don’t think that in his wildest imagination the leper expected what happened next. Jesus did not act afraid, appalled, or repulsed. He didn’t immediately judge the leper for approaching him instead of backing away and saying “unclean!” He didn’t give any platitudes from a distance—no “I’m so sorry’s or anything like that.” Instead, before saying anything, he reached out his hand and touched the leper. What on earth was he thinking? Jesus didn’t have leprosy. He wasn’t unclean, but he had just done something that no one—NO ONE—would do if they were in their right mind. He reached out and touched a leper. Then he said, “I am willing” and healed him.
The more I read this, the more I just can’t get over it. Jesus touched a leper.
You know, Jesus could have healed the leper with His words—there are other instances in the Bible where Jesus speaks and the person is healed, even from a long distance away. But he made a point of touching the leper. He didn’t touch him after healing him or even while he was healing him, but before. While the leper was still unclean, Jesus intentionally, physically touched a leper.
Imagine this man’s surprise, after what he had been through. Every sore told another story of a frightened child running to the other side of the street, every ache a reminder of the one word that had come out of his mouth over and over….”unclean.”
But Jesus touched the untouchable, and something amazing happened.
Before the physical signs of the disease were healed, Jesus’ touch had already begun to heal deeper wounds that no doctor could attend to.The touch healed isolation and said “you are not alone.” To every sore that Jesus’ hand came in contact with, his touch said “I am not afraid of you. You are my creation.” To the word unclean Jesus’ touch said —“you’re clean to me now, you are valid, you are worth healing, you are worth touching. You are not forgotten, not alone. You are not abandoned, and you are not worthless.”
Jesus touched the untouchable, and something amazing happened.
Now, I want to split this up and look at two perspectives—Jesus’ and the leper’s. Both did amazing things—Jesus touched the untouchable, and the leper had the guts to ask him. Where do we find ourselves in this story?
First, look at what Jesus did. He touched the untouchable. I don’t know about you, but when I think of the word untouchable, I think of a political or religious caste system or something like that. Of course it’s in some other culture, and of course there wouldn’t be any untouchables in my life, would there? As long as a person doesn’t smell bad, act rude, look dirty, look creepy, place themselves more than arms distance out of my way, make me cry, make me mad, think I’m immature, always want to argue, have a cold, or have come in contact with anything contagious, sure, I’ll touch anyone. See how progressive I am? Anyway, we can always carry hand sanitizer, right?
Wow.
How many times have I walked under the tunnel between Parque del Oeste and Plaza de España and picked up my pace past the row of mattresses? How much contact did I avoid with my last downstairs neighbor because I was sure she’d yell at me for some new offense? How many days go by at a time that I only associate with the people I like? How many difficult conversations have I avoided with the people I love because I’m afraid it will cause a fight?
But when I look at Jesus’ perspective in the story, He breaks all these boundaries down. When he touches a leper, he not only defies custom, but in my mind, defies common sense! He could have caught something! At the very least he would have to go through the hassle of going to the priest to be cleansed and pronounced clean, not to mention the argument that this action could spark with the religious leadership. He could have been compassionate from the other side of the street and yelled out “I am willing,” and then healed him. There was no physical reason to touch him. After all, couldn’t he have just dropped money in his cup without making eye contact or touching him? Jesus’ action doesn’t leave room for me to avoid people for all the reasons I make up.
Are you uncomfortable yet? I am. When I look at my life, I don’t see this behavior. I see a sqeaky clean, sanitized life. I see comfort and very little risk. I see common sense in who I touch and who I associate with, and I don’t see much room for anything or anyone untouchable.
But I don’t want this to be a guilt fest, and I don’t think that’s what God intends either. That’s not what He did in this story. Jesus didn’t turn around from the leper and go find some Pharisees to yell at for not touching him. He did it himself. Instead of being guilty, maybe this is an opportunity to imagine what could happen if we did it ourselves. Imagine what would happen if we stopped and talked to a beggar on the street, put our hand on their shoulder, told them to have a nice day? What would happen if we gave a hug to a person who is hurting, even when we don’t know what to say? What if we took the time to tear down a relational wall that we’ve built up between ourselves and a person we’re in regular contact with? What if each of us decided that this week we are going to touch one person who we usually would consider untouchable? We’re not shaking up the world here, but there are about, what? 50 people in this room? Then, if nothing else, we have affected 50 people. Whether it makes a big difference or a small difference, we have told 50 people that they matter enough for us to touch them.
I’m blown away by what Jesus did in this story. Jesus touched the untouchable, and amazing things happened.
Or maybe now we need to step back and look at it from the leper’s perspective. So here is a leper approaching Jesus—something that probably took every bit of courage in him to do. Maybe he had nothing to lose—maybe he was desperate. But whatever the motivation, it still would have to be hard to get up the guts to ask. After telling the world he was unclean for so long, the word begins to take on meaning beyond skin condition. Unclean, don’t come near, contagious, bad news, bad things will happen if you come near me. I am untouchable, unworthy of touch. I must deserve to be alone. From a distance, people pity, but from close up they are only afraid, so why would Jesus be any different?
His touch to the leper said “I don’t care if you come to me clean or not. I’ll make you clean, but I’m not afraid of dirt. I’m not afraid of disease or sin or bad relationships or isolation.”
Jesus touched the untouchable, and amazing things happened.
And amazing things are still happening….
He didn’t doubt Jesus’ power to heal—just his willingness. Do we do that? What part of our own life is untouchable? What hurt is too deep, too isolated? What sin is too horrible? What relationship is too far beyond repair? What personality trait is too reprehensible? What things are just too personal?
Just like how Jesus’ encounter with the leper leaves us no room for the untouchables around us, it also leaves us no room to keep “untouchables” within ourselves.
I just listed off a pretty long list of people I don’t want to touch, and to be honest, I’m ashamed that it’s so long. I don’t like that about myself, and I would rather not tell a roomful of people, much less admit it to God. But as uncomfortable as it makes me too look at myself and realize how afraid I am to touch the untouchable, I see the leper and realize I can approach Jesus with that too. He’s not afraid of it—he’s not appalled at my lack of compassion or afraid of my immaturity.
I’m amazed. I’m blown away. And most of all I’m thankful. I’m thankful that in reality, I am not untouchable, that there is no hurt too deep or too isolated. I’m thankful that there is no sin too horrible and no relationship beyond repair, that I am not too reprehensible or appalling to Jesus and that nothing is too personal.
So in the end, the story—the leper’s story and our story—comes back full circle, to Jesus. When I tried to put myself in Jesus’ place in the story, willingly touching the untouchable, I found myself hopelessly lacking, so proud and so afraid and so concerned with myself and my health and my cleanliness that I can’t do anything for the leper. So I become the leper, sick and sore and scraping up every ounce of courage I have to say to Jesus, “if you are willing, you can make me clean.”
And the story goes back to Jesus. He touches the untouchable, and amazing things happen.
When we were talking about the “body parts” series and Troy asked me if I would do the teaching on hands, I started reading through the gospels to look at what Jesus did with His hands, and what I found was pretty amazing. Jesus used his hands a lot—sometimes in ordinary ways and sometimes in very extraordinary—even miraculous—ways. One thing that stuck out to me over and over is that whenever the Bible mentions that Jesus touches someone, something amazing happens.
But out of all the stories of things Jesus did that we see in the Bible, the one that stuck out to me the most was the story of Jesus healing the leper. There are a couple of different instances of Jesus healing someone with leprosy, and this is the first of those—you can find it in Matthew 8, Mark 1, and Luke 5. This is definitely one of those instances of Jesus touching someone and amazing things happening, and for those of us who have grown up in church, we’ve heard the story before and it will sound familiar to us. I’m going to read the story as it’s written in the book of Luke, and as I read it I want you to visualize the scene—close your eyes if it helps.
Luke 5:12-13
12While 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."
13Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. "I am willing," he said. "Be clean!" And immediately the leprosy left him.
Ok, now that I’ve read the story, I want to expand a little bit on this so we can see more clearly what’s going on.
First, to understand the story, we need to know what a leper is. More commonly known as Hansens’ Disease, leprosy is a condition that damages and deadens nerve endings, but it’s most commonly characterized by its outwardly visible effects: skin lesions. In the Bible, conditions that were visible through knots, scabs, white places, and other nastiness in the skin are referred to as leprosy. So whatever it was that this guy had, it was painful and disfiguring, and generally not a fun disease to have.
Leprosy was a contagious disease and declared unclean by law, meaning that anyone who was “clean” could not touch them. And in that culture, clean and unclean was a big deal. Staying clean and avoiding the unclean was a priority. So even though quarantine is a good idea to stop the spread of a disease, you can see that this would have repercussions in how these people were viewed. There was a strong social stigma attached to it. Lepers didn’t even live inside the city—they lived in a camp on the outskirts of town, only in contact with other lepers. They were completely disassociated from society--non persons. And touching them would immediately put the toucher in the same boat. To touch something unclean causes you to become unclean by law. To keep from making others unclean and from spreading the disease, the unclean person was required to let others know he was unclean so they wouldn’t accidentally come too close and be contaminated. So on top of the pain of the disease itself, the sick person was forced to make himself more miserable by driving away anyone who came close. Imagine the pain of not only being sick, but also being completely isolated.
Maybe originally maybe he thought that whatever was wrong would clear up, but it just got worse and worse—so bad, actually, that Luke points out that he was “covered” with leprosy. By this point, there was no hope of the disease just going away. And even if there were a cure, what doctor would risk his life and his social standing to touch him?
It doesn’t say where this man has heard of Jesus from, but obviously he has some knowledge of what Jesus has done and the authority he seems to have over sickness and even demons. If this man had read the prophets, maybe he even had an idea or a just a hope that this could be the Messiah that was promised. He knew enough about what this man had said and done, and that he had the power to heal. So why not ask? But even with the courage to ask, a little bit of doubt was still there. We see that in the way that he brings his request to Jesus. “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” Notice he didn’t say heal my disease or relieve my pain—he said make me clean. Put me back in society. Let me be alive with the world around me again. But first, “if you are willing.” Jesus had the power, but if he was so holy and had so much authority, would he care about a leper? Would he come close enough to heal him, or maybe he could do it from a distance.
I don’t think that in his wildest imagination the leper expected what happened next. Jesus did not act afraid, appalled, or repulsed. He didn’t immediately judge the leper for approaching him instead of backing away and saying “unclean!” He didn’t give any platitudes from a distance—no “I’m so sorry’s or anything like that.” Instead, before saying anything, he reached out his hand and touched the leper. What on earth was he thinking? Jesus didn’t have leprosy. He wasn’t unclean, but he had just done something that no one—NO ONE—would do if they were in their right mind. He reached out and touched a leper. Then he said, “I am willing” and healed him.
The more I read this, the more I just can’t get over it. Jesus touched a leper.
You know, Jesus could have healed the leper with His words—there are other instances in the Bible where Jesus speaks and the person is healed, even from a long distance away. But he made a point of touching the leper. He didn’t touch him after healing him or even while he was healing him, but before. While the leper was still unclean, Jesus intentionally, physically touched a leper.
Imagine this man’s surprise, after what he had been through. Every sore told another story of a frightened child running to the other side of the street, every ache a reminder of the one word that had come out of his mouth over and over….”unclean.”
But Jesus touched the untouchable, and something amazing happened.
Before the physical signs of the disease were healed, Jesus’ touch had already begun to heal deeper wounds that no doctor could attend to.The touch healed isolation and said “you are not alone.” To every sore that Jesus’ hand came in contact with, his touch said “I am not afraid of you. You are my creation.” To the word unclean Jesus’ touch said —“you’re clean to me now, you are valid, you are worth healing, you are worth touching. You are not forgotten, not alone. You are not abandoned, and you are not worthless.”
Jesus touched the untouchable, and something amazing happened.
Now, I want to split this up and look at two perspectives—Jesus’ and the leper’s. Both did amazing things—Jesus touched the untouchable, and the leper had the guts to ask him. Where do we find ourselves in this story?
First, look at what Jesus did. He touched the untouchable. I don’t know about you, but when I think of the word untouchable, I think of a political or religious caste system or something like that. Of course it’s in some other culture, and of course there wouldn’t be any untouchables in my life, would there? As long as a person doesn’t smell bad, act rude, look dirty, look creepy, place themselves more than arms distance out of my way, make me cry, make me mad, think I’m immature, always want to argue, have a cold, or have come in contact with anything contagious, sure, I’ll touch anyone. See how progressive I am? Anyway, we can always carry hand sanitizer, right?
Wow.
How many times have I walked under the tunnel between Parque del Oeste and Plaza de España and picked up my pace past the row of mattresses? How much contact did I avoid with my last downstairs neighbor because I was sure she’d yell at me for some new offense? How many days go by at a time that I only associate with the people I like? How many difficult conversations have I avoided with the people I love because I’m afraid it will cause a fight?
But when I look at Jesus’ perspective in the story, He breaks all these boundaries down. When he touches a leper, he not only defies custom, but in my mind, defies common sense! He could have caught something! At the very least he would have to go through the hassle of going to the priest to be cleansed and pronounced clean, not to mention the argument that this action could spark with the religious leadership. He could have been compassionate from the other side of the street and yelled out “I am willing,” and then healed him. There was no physical reason to touch him. After all, couldn’t he have just dropped money in his cup without making eye contact or touching him? Jesus’ action doesn’t leave room for me to avoid people for all the reasons I make up.
Are you uncomfortable yet? I am. When I look at my life, I don’t see this behavior. I see a sqeaky clean, sanitized life. I see comfort and very little risk. I see common sense in who I touch and who I associate with, and I don’t see much room for anything or anyone untouchable.
But I don’t want this to be a guilt fest, and I don’t think that’s what God intends either. That’s not what He did in this story. Jesus didn’t turn around from the leper and go find some Pharisees to yell at for not touching him. He did it himself. Instead of being guilty, maybe this is an opportunity to imagine what could happen if we did it ourselves. Imagine what would happen if we stopped and talked to a beggar on the street, put our hand on their shoulder, told them to have a nice day? What would happen if we gave a hug to a person who is hurting, even when we don’t know what to say? What if we took the time to tear down a relational wall that we’ve built up between ourselves and a person we’re in regular contact with? What if each of us decided that this week we are going to touch one person who we usually would consider untouchable? We’re not shaking up the world here, but there are about, what? 50 people in this room? Then, if nothing else, we have affected 50 people. Whether it makes a big difference or a small difference, we have told 50 people that they matter enough for us to touch them.
I’m blown away by what Jesus did in this story. Jesus touched the untouchable, and amazing things happened.
Or maybe now we need to step back and look at it from the leper’s perspective. So here is a leper approaching Jesus—something that probably took every bit of courage in him to do. Maybe he had nothing to lose—maybe he was desperate. But whatever the motivation, it still would have to be hard to get up the guts to ask. After telling the world he was unclean for so long, the word begins to take on meaning beyond skin condition. Unclean, don’t come near, contagious, bad news, bad things will happen if you come near me. I am untouchable, unworthy of touch. I must deserve to be alone. From a distance, people pity, but from close up they are only afraid, so why would Jesus be any different?
His touch to the leper said “I don’t care if you come to me clean or not. I’ll make you clean, but I’m not afraid of dirt. I’m not afraid of disease or sin or bad relationships or isolation.”
Jesus touched the untouchable, and amazing things happened.
And amazing things are still happening….
He didn’t doubt Jesus’ power to heal—just his willingness. Do we do that? What part of our own life is untouchable? What hurt is too deep, too isolated? What sin is too horrible? What relationship is too far beyond repair? What personality trait is too reprehensible? What things are just too personal?
Just like how Jesus’ encounter with the leper leaves us no room for the untouchables around us, it also leaves us no room to keep “untouchables” within ourselves.
I just listed off a pretty long list of people I don’t want to touch, and to be honest, I’m ashamed that it’s so long. I don’t like that about myself, and I would rather not tell a roomful of people, much less admit it to God. But as uncomfortable as it makes me too look at myself and realize how afraid I am to touch the untouchable, I see the leper and realize I can approach Jesus with that too. He’s not afraid of it—he’s not appalled at my lack of compassion or afraid of my immaturity.
I’m amazed. I’m blown away. And most of all I’m thankful. I’m thankful that in reality, I am not untouchable, that there is no hurt too deep or too isolated. I’m thankful that there is no sin too horrible and no relationship beyond repair, that I am not too reprehensible or appalling to Jesus and that nothing is too personal.
So in the end, the story—the leper’s story and our story—comes back full circle, to Jesus. When I tried to put myself in Jesus’ place in the story, willingly touching the untouchable, I found myself hopelessly lacking, so proud and so afraid and so concerned with myself and my health and my cleanliness that I can’t do anything for the leper. So I become the leper, sick and sore and scraping up every ounce of courage I have to say to Jesus, “if you are willing, you can make me clean.”
And the story goes back to Jesus. He touches the untouchable, and amazing things happen.
posted by kelly_w at 3:19 PM
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