Essay 29 (5/8/04)

 

JESUS TOUCHED LEPERS

 

To be a leper in the ancient world was abysmal terror. His disease was seen as not only intractable and incurable, but contagious. The virulent skin formed scabs and peeled away, leaving unsightly and painful open sores. The affliction was often consummate, covering the victim's body from head to foot. He was banished from society. Despised and rejected, he often lived in colonies with others similarly afflicted. He was untouchable. Even relatives kept their distance. When they brought food or clothing, they would leave it at a distance.

 

  The disease was so dreaded among the ancient Hebrews that they legislated meticulous regulations to control it, as Leviticus 13-14 indicates. If one showed the slightest sign of the disease he was isolated for a week for observation, and then another week if there was still doubt. Once the priest, who served as diagnostician, determined he was leprous, he became a marked man -- for life! -- unless there was clear evidence of a cure. He was to wear torn clothing and disheveled hair to mark him as "unclean," and he was to cover his upper lip. If anyone inadvertently came near him, he was to shout, "Unclean, unclean!" The Leviticus law ruled that "being unclean, he would live alone and live outside the camp." He was the ultimate reject of society.

 

  It is not surprising that we find lepers throughout the Bible, including instances of their being healed by God's power. And since they brought to Jesus "all who were sick and those who were possessed by devils," it is not surprising that he would encounter those afflicted with society's most dreaded disease. But the leper had a problem approaching a noted healer. If he dared to draw near where others were he might be stoned. Only Luke (17:11-19) tells the story of a colony of lepers, ten in number, that approached Jesus, but they stayed at a comfortable distance from him and shouted, "Jesus! Master! Take pity on us." Jesus called back to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." This he said because only the priest could officially pronounce them clean and restore them to their families and society.

 

  On the way to the priests they were healed, all ten of them. One of them -- a Samaritan -- came back to thank Jesus. Luke tells us that "he praised God to the top of his voice and threw himself prostrate at the feet of Jesus and thanked him." This is where Jesus said, "Were not all ten made clean? The other nine, where are they?" Jesus was impressed that it was a lowly Samaritan -- a foreigner -- who had returned to praise God and offer thanks.

 

  While this is an impressive case of Jesus healing lepers, it was from a distance. Would Jesus actually render himself ritually unclean by touching a leper? All three of the synoptic gospels tell the story of this actually happening. R. H. Lightfoot, the noted New Testament scholar of generations back, esteemed this story as the most impressive of all the New Testament. It has all the marks of profound drama.

 

  As Mark relates the story in 2:40-45, a leper came to Jesus and pleaded on his knees, "If you are willing, you can cleanse me." If you are willing is a cry of desperation. He knew that Jesus had healed others, but would he bother with a despised leper? While his faith was strong -- Jesus only had to be willing -- he saw it as understandable if Jesus excluded such rejects as lepers.

 

  Jesus felt compassion for him, and he responded in kind, "I am willing. Be cleansed." In relating this, Mark says that Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him. What drama! A rabbi  -- a teacher of Israel -- touching a leper! It was not only a no-no in the society in which he lived, but a breach of the law. He rendered himself unclean. As he had done before in healing lepers, he could have done it without defiling himself. Jesus -- who came to show us what the kingdom of heaven is about -- touched a despised leper.

 

  It is one more instance of the radical character of the kingdom of God and the cost of discipleship. We claim as Christians to be followers of Jesus -- that is what discipleship means -- but do we touch lepers?

 

  I'm not sure who the lepers of our society would be. The homeless who sleep in doorways or under bridges? Prostitutes? Drug addicts who poke themselves with needles? Or maybe the drug pusher? The chap in school who has poor eyesight and wears thick glasses and who is harrassed and bullied to the degree that he commits suicide? The black man in the nursing home that diabetes has rendered both legless and sightless who asks you to pray that he might die? Those wadded up in wheelchairs waiting to die, and who have an offending odor? The Muslim or Hindu neighbor? Those with AIDS? Those who sin differently from us?

 

  Let's face it. We claim to be followers of one who touched lepers. Jesus was a radical in his society. He would likely be more comfortable sitting with those just referred to than with us in our cushioned pews on Sunday morning. We don't do things like touch lepers!

 

  I think one of my Harvard professor understood this. When I asked Henry Cadbury, noted New Testament scholar, what would happen to Jesus should he return to our society today, he said he would be killed just as he was before. When I asked him who would do it, he said it would be the church, just as before. After all, Jesus did things like touch lepers.

 

  The prophet Amos understood this when he heard God say, "Take away from Me the noise of your songs, for I will not hear the melody of your stringed instruments. But let justice run down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream" (Amos 5:23-24).  Justice before ritual! Righteousness before "religion"!

 

  An aged woman, longtime resident of a nursing home, taught me something about touching those who are hurting. One day when I was calling on her, I noticed a woman sitting in the foyer sobbing. Her daughter was at the desk signing her in to the nursing home. "I don't want to be here; I want to go home," she moaned. Her daughter sought to comfort her, "Mother, you are not able to care for yourself any longer. We will be coming to see you." The mother kept sobbing. I paused to watch all this, and had the urge to offer comfort, but I felt helpless, not knowing what to say.

 

  Once in the room of my friend, I told her what I had just seen. I asked her, "Mabel, you've been here all these years, and you know what its like. What would you say to the poor soul out there that doesn't want to be here? She looked at me as if I didn't understand. "Leroy, there's nothing to say to her," she said.

 

  She added, "I would cry with her."

 

Personal Notes

 

In previous publications I regularly reported on what Ouida and I had been up to. It was a way of keeping in touch with longtime friends, many of whom we love having never seen. Perhaps I will do this occasionally in these email essays.

 

  Ouida fell on concrete five weeks ago and fractured her right kneecap. This required surgery and time in the hospital. I have been attending her at home, and with the help of dear friends in our congregation she has had all the support she has needed. She has upwards of three more weeks with her leg in a brace, but the surgeon -- who checks on her occasionally and adjusts the brace -- says she will completely recover.

 

  She now hobbles about the house doing something of what she has always done. She encouraged me to fulfill the assignments that I had in Tennessee last weekend -- to attend the celebration dinner of Peter Morgan, who is retiring as president of the Disciples of Christ Historical Society, and to do a weekend with the Forest Mill Church of Christ in Manchester.

 

  In March, before her accident, Ouida went with me to Dyersburg, Tn. for a weekend with the Tucker Street Church. We visited friends along the way. Also in March I flew alone to Lubbock, and then by car on to Roswell, N.M. to be with the South Main Church of Christ. I had been to Roswell 25 years before, and this time I stayed with the same family I stayed with back in 1979! But back then I would not have been welcomed at the South Main congregation. This time I was more than welcomed. We are changing!

 

  I will be going to Arkansas and Florida in June, along with some assignments near home, including a date with a Disciples of Christ congregation in Dallas who want me to do my portrayal of Raccoon John Smith. I think they read about it in my autobiography and want to see it for themselves. If the Lord wills, in July Ouida and I will visit friends and churches in Scotland, and then attend the World Convention of Churches of Christ in Brighton, England.

 

  So, for a couple going on 80 and 86, we have blessings to count. My prayer has long been that when I can no longer be doing something reasonably constructive I want to be taken -- perhaps while I'm out amongst them. But not while I'm doing Raccoon. The old hero might be among those who greet me, and I want him to be in a good humor!

 

  (We have now mailed out from our home over 1200 copies of my autobiography -- A Lover's Quarrel: My Pilgrimage of Freedom in Churches of Christ. That doesn't count what the ACU Press, the publisher, has sold. So, I think it is getting a good read. If you want a copy, send a check for $14.95 to us at 1300 Woodlake Dr., Denton, TX 76210. That includes postage.)