Text:  Mark 1:40-45                                                                                                  W 6 Epiphany

Show And Tell

            In the name of him who reaches out to touch and heal those who are unclean, dear friends in Christ:  We have, over the past several weeks, been hearing in the Gospel readings of the early part of Jesus’ Galilean ministry:  how he began gathering his disciples, and preaching the Good News of the Kingdom in the synagogues of the towns and villages in the lake region. Last week, the added dimension of the healing aspect of his ministry came to light, as Jesus first cured Peter’s mother-in-law of a fever; and then, when word of his miraculous ability was spread abroad, how a sizeable crowd appeared seeking to be delivered from their various afflictions.

The teaching of Jesus caused a stir.  People were impressed.  Ah, but the power to heal has made him an instant sensation.  On the same day that he healed Peter’s mother-in-law, he worked long into the night dealing with the sicknesses and injuries of this crowd that came to him.  At last, there were no more, and Jesus and the disciples managed to get a few hours of sleep.  Then, in the early hours, Jesus arose before daybreak, and went off into the nearby hills to be alone for prayer.  Now, at sunrise, a whole new crowd has gathered at the house where they expect to find the wonderful miracle worker they’ve heard so much about.  The disciples wake to find the crowd waiting rather impatiently outside; but no Jesus.  He’s disappeared.  In something of a panic, they spread out to find him.  When at length they do, they tell him, “Jesus, you’ve got to come back to town.  Everyone there is looking for you.”  But Jesus tells them, “No, we’ve got to be moving on now.  I need to preach the Word in other places.  That is why I have come.”

And I think this is important for us to understand.  Though Jesus healed many people during his work on earth, his primary focus was always on his teaching ministry.  He came to reveal God to us through his Word, and to address mankind’s deeper needs – the spiritual ones.  He came to rescue us from the universal epidemic of sin and eternal death. He understood that the physical problems we sometimes face (as bad as they are) are only symptomatic of that greater infection.  They point to and remind us of the curse of sin and its consequences.  That’s always our biggest problem – but we tend to get the priorities mixed up.  We want Jesus to cure our aches and pains whenever we have them, but rarely do we put as much emphasis on the real problems in our lives. 

But understand that when Jesus healed people, it was largely meant to be illustrative.  He cured diseases and mended broken bodies mainly to show that he has the desire and power to cure our diseased souls and mend our broken hearts – and he accomplishes that healing through the proclamation of his Gospel.  Remember he didn’t heal everyone in a physical sense. He left that whole crowd standing there waiting for him.  That’s probably because they weren’t interested in the deeper healing he came to bring them.  And we need to bear this in mind today.  Jesus cares for each of us very much, and yes, sometimes he chooses to heal our physical ailments – but above all he wants to fix what’s really broken, and that’s not our bodies.  These are wearing out and will pass away.  But the soul you have is eternal.  Jesus wants to heal that now so that, one day, delivered from the curse of sin, you will be healed from all your problems.

            So now, with this understanding – that there’s a spiritual message in the healing miracles of Jesus – let’s take a look at the cleansing of the leper that we heard about this morning.

Jesus is between towns.  He’s out traveling in the open country.  And this is exactly where we would expect to find someone who has the dreaded disease of leprosy.  For fear of contagion they were outcasts – unable to live in communities with healthy people.  And we can understand why:  it wasn’t until the last few decades that the disease could be treated at all.  In the ancient world, if you got leprosy, that was it. There was no cure for you.  And I suppose that most of you know of horrors of living death the disease inflicts on its victims.  It’s caused by a bacterium that attacks the cooler parts of the body; extremities like the ears, nose, tongue, lips, fingers, and toes. Internally, it causes nerve damage so that the sufferer cannot feel the effected areas – which is a blessing and a curse.  It’s good that there’s not a lot of pain, but bad because the sensation of pain is one of your body’s major defenses against injury.  You know if it hurts not to do that, or that you should treat an infected cut, say, on your finger.  The pain of the inflammation tells you to get it fixed.  With leprosy, you don’t have that warning—which is what eventually leads to the loss of digits and so forth.  I heard of one missionary who discovered he had contracted leprosy when he accidentally poured boiling water on his foot, and he realized that he couldn’t feel it.  So that’s what leprosy does on the inside.  Externally, the disease shows up in swellings, sometimes in series of tumor-like growths ranging in size from that of peas to ping pong balls.  These will be evident on the lips, nose, ears, and around the eyes ears.  And on these swellings will often appear unsightly lesions that don’t heal.

So it’s small wonder people feared the disease. The loss of sensation and the horrible disfigurement were bad enough, and added to that was that it made you a complete social outcast.  You were not allowed to go to populated places.  You had to cover up all your exposed skin.  And whenever you saw healthy people coming your way, you had to shout, “Unclean!  Unclean!” to warn them to avoid you.  So leprosy cut you off from contact with your family, friends, and society in general.  You were only fit company for other lepers.  And every time you looked into the ugly, rotting faces of your companions in misery, it was like looking into mirror, reminding you of your own hopeless condition.

And I want you to see that the disease of leprosy portrays physically what sin does to us spiritually.  It fills us with ugly, selfish, perverse thoughts; it numbs us to the suffering in the world around us and indeed, to the injury that we cause to ourselves by our sin; and it destroys our relationships, making us strangers to or even the enemies of the people in our lives.  It prevents us from getting truly close to anyone.  Like lepers wrapped in bandages, we have to hide the ugliness so people can’t see what we really are inside.  And when we see the outbreak of sin in others, and our first reaction is to be appalled or to pass judgment, ultimately their obvious sins only remind us of what we ourselves are:  unclean and cast out.

            So we can be grateful, as was the man in the story we heard, that Jesus doesn’t just stay where the crowds of healthy people are; no, he comes out here to the deserted places where the diseased and exiled are. Doubtless this man has heard of Jesus’ healing ability.  It’s clear that he believes Jesus can heal him.  And he’s probably wanted to get to him for some time; but until now, he hasn’t been able to.  He couldn’t go into the towns where Jesus was preaching.   But now, seeing Jesus coming his way, he kneels before him on the path, begging him, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.”

            You can visualize the disciples all quickly stepping behind Jesus to maintain a safe distance.  They want nothing to do with this guy – and they’re probably wondering how Jesus is going to handle this potentially dangerous situation. There’s a pause as Jesus takes in what he sees in front of him:  the ravages of sin and decay, the years of hopeless desperation, sadness, and loneliness this man has endured.  Jesus is moved with compassion and love for him.  He says, “I do want to make you clean.”  And to the disciples’ absolute shock and horror, Jesus steps forward and extends his hand to touch the infected man.

            Their momentary shock is turned to wonder as they see that the man is instantly healed.  All at once, the flesh that was swollen and oozing corruption becomes healthy and whole.  It’s astounding – but more astounding still is what the miracle represents to us. With a touch Jesus heals leprosy – but even more the leprosy of sin.  This miracle takes place spiritually every time you hear Christ’s words of absolution, “Your sins are forgiven.”  It takes place every time Jesus touches someone in the water of Baptism, or with his body and blood in Holy Communion.  We stand before him and say, “Lord, if you want to, you can make me clean.”  And Jesus, on account of his love for us replies, “I do want to.  Be clean.”

            But the story doesn’t end there.  After healing the man, Jesus gives him a strict charge. And in the original language what he says is very emphatic.  Jesus literally “growls at him” and “sends him away”, sternly warning him not to speak of this to anyone; but to “Go, show yourself at once to the priests, and offer up the required sacrifices as a testimony to them.”  This doesn’t seem to fit the story.  First Jesus is kindness itself, and now suddenly he’s giving orders with all the tenderness of a drill sergeant.  And it doesn’t seem to make sense:  don’t tell anyone, but do go show yourself to the priests – which would obviously include telling them what happened.  What’s this all about?

            Well, to make sense of it, it may be helpful to know that there is in the Old Testament book of Leviticus an entire chapter that proscribes a fairly complicated series of procedures, ceremonies, and sacrifices that a person healed of leprosy and the priests are supposed to do.  And what’s really remarkable about it is that though God gave these detailed instructions to Moses, in the entire history of God’s people up to this point, no one had ever been healed of leprosy. The only such case was that of Naaman the Syrian, whom we heard about this morning – but he wasn’t an Israelite, and so he never had to do all those things the law required.  After he was cured, he just went back home where he came from.  So you still had all these laws on the books that were never ever used.

            So imagine now, this guy showing up at the Temple in Jerusalem, and telling the priests that he was there in order to fulfill a bunch of laws that no one ever had before.  No one ever had occasion because no one had ever met the qualifications:  cured of leprosy.  You can see what a powerful witness this would be to the very priests and leaders who eventually would be demanding Jesus’ life.  They’d have to dig into the books, study them carefully to learn the procedures, and then actually perform them all in recognition of what Jesus had done for this man.  The enemies of Jesus would be themselves testifying of his miraculous power to save through their own ministry.

But the man disobeyed – he didn’t do what Jesus commanded.  Instead of going to Jerusalem to see the priests as Jesus and the law required, he went around the immediate area talking to everybody about what Jesus had done for him.  And you might think, “But isn’t that good?”  And the answer is no, not in this case.  The effect of his disobedience was to block the fulfillment of the law that would have made the enemies give witness of what Jesus had done for him.  And it also interfered with Jesus’ public ministry and the spread of the Gospel.  Hearing about this, the crowds of people seeking to be healed became so large that Jesus was barely able to do what he really came for:  to teach.  So he had to stay away from public places, or come into them covered up so that no one could recognize him.  In fact, when you think about it, the man’s disobedience made Jesus trade places with him. Before the leprous man was outcast and covered – and now Jesus must do the same things because the man didn’t do what he was told.

And in a round about way, I think this is the application to you and me. You see, Jesus has cured us of the leprosy of sin, and he has now charged us to obey a command of God that no one ever has before – no one could because no one had ever been healed of their sin.  What command is that?  It’s the command that he gives to all of us to love one another.  That’s what the leprosy of sin prevents.  But now that you have been healed, do what the law requires. Or as Jesus said, “As I have loved you, so also you love one another.”

            But we don’t.  Sure, we run around talking about what Jesus has done:  “I’m healed!  I’ve been forgiven of my sin.  Jesus has cleansed my soul.”  But we do not show that we have been healed and made clean in the way we live our lives.  We still don’t do what Jesus commands and the Law requires.  And the effect of that is to give the enemies of Jesus reason to continue to speak ill of the Christian cause.  Mahatma Gandhi, the prime minister of India, and who was a Hindu, said it very well.  When asked what he thought about the teachings of Jesus, he said, “I like your Christ very much; what I don’t like is your Christians.” Were we to actually show the love of Christ in our lives, no one could ever make that charge.  Instead, we would testify of the Savior’s truth and power in a way that no one could deny.  Even Christ’s enemies would have to confess, “Those Christians sure know how to love.”

            And our disobedience has another effect:  and that is to drive Jesus away as if he were leprous and unclean.  What do I mean?  Look: when Jesus healed the leper, the text says that the disease “left him.”  I’ve a question for you:  where did it go?  We have in our minds this notion that the leprosy just sort of vanished; but that’s not right.  The curse of sin does not just disappear magically; somebody has to pay for it. And according to the law, anyone who touched an unclean person became unclean himself.  And the idea here in the text is that when the disease departs the leper, it adheres to Christ.  Certainly that is what happens to our sin when he forgives us.  It doesn’t just go away:  it goes to Jesus who must bear it and suffer its consequences.

            And it makes him unclean and cast out.  In fact, it takes him to the most deserted place there has ever been:  to a place called Golgotha where he was defiled, outcast, and forsaken by all—even and especially by his heavenly Father.  There he suffered in his body the horrors of sin’s leprosy in his agony on the cross, and in his soul he suffered the spiritual abandonment of hell. We do that to him when we fail to live in his love and keep his command.

And when we do, we should be able to see that the leprosy of sin in us has had another outbreak.  We need healing yet again.  So, unclean and cast out, we go back to that deserted place where the Savior is crucified – to the foot of his cross.  We come for cleansing.  And once again we hear his prayer, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.”  The burden is lifted.  The soul is cleansed.  But as time goes by, the more we realize that this is where we must stay:  in the shadow of the cross – because this is where the healing always takes place.  We learn to live our lives steadily receiving his grace and forgiveness – in the Word, in the Sacraments – so that we are constantly being transformed by the power of his love.  His love, his forgiveness, and his compassion delivered to us in his death and resurrection are what cleanses, heals, and empowers us to keep the law that no one can, so that we can both tell of what Jesus has done for us, and more importantly, to show it in the way we live and love one another.  So may God grant us this grace to both show and tell. In Jesus’ name. Amen. 

Soli Deo Gloria!