6th Sunday after Epiphany at Epiphany on February 15, 2009

Mark 1:40 A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, "If you are willing, you can make me clean." 41 Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. "I am willing," he said. "Be clean!" 42 Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured. 43 Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning: 44 "See that you don't tell this to anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them." 45 Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news. As a result, Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places. Yet the people still came to him from everywhere.

Jesus is willing

It starts out: “A man with leprosy came to Him.” That's simple enough. A man with leprosy came to Jesus. Now, if a minute ago you thought you had a problem, I want you to know your problem probably pales in comparison to the pain this person felt. Leprosy is treatable today. But when our Savior walked this earth, a diagnosis of leprosy meant confinement to a living death. Leprosy, beginning with specks on the eyelids, eventually covers the body with running sores and scales, bleaching hair and skin and making them white as snow. The leper looks like a horror movie ghoul.

The scales are what give the disease its name. Lepos, is Greek for “scale.” Under the skin, the illness rips through nerves deadening them and eventually the infected individual has no feeling. With no feeling, the leper doesn’t know if something is broken or bleeding internally. There is no feeling, no sensitivity, no pain. Brushing teeth, scratching an itch, even combing hair – any of these actions could cause bleeding and bruising if you brushed, scratched or combed too hard. With no feeling, most lepers would eventually be missing toes, fingers, ears, nose, or eyes.

In an Indian leper colony, during the evening, many of the infected seemed to be mysteriously losing fingers and toes while they were sleeping. Only when someone stayed awake did they find out why. Rats were gnawing on the sleepers, who, feeling no pain, never woke up. Now you understand part of the leper’s problem. But you don’t understand it all. Not hardly. There's more.

Adults would avoid the leper for fear of contamination; children would cry after seeing the horror; older ones would throw stones at him. Simon and Garfunkel once sang, “I am an island.” But they never experienced the completely lonely, deserted island life of a leper. From morning to evening, from the first day of the calendar to the last, the leper’s life was one of isolation and loneliness. Strangers … then acquaintances … then friends … then children … spouse … even mom would all withdraw from his touch, would steer away from his presence.

The Old Testament levitical law (Lev 13:45-46) demanded that the leper call out a warning to anyone he might meet. Like the tolling of a funeral bell, he was commanded to continuously cry: “Unclean! Unclean!”

Unclean. Too unclean to have his hand shaken. Too unclean to enter the marketplace. Too unclean to hold a job; to go to a wedding; to celebrate the Sabbath with his children in the synagogue; too unclean to offer a sacrifice for his sins; too unclean to touch his wife; too unclean to have a friend who was not unclean; too unclean to have any hope or home other than the one he now endured. That was a leper’s life – or what might better be called his living death.

That’s the way it was for our leper, until the day Jesus showed up. Since the Bible is silent on this matter, I can’t tell how news of the Savior’s message and miracles reached the remote recesses of the leper’s lair. Somewhere, somehow, the leper found himself, perhaps for the first time in a long time, having been given a most precious commodity – hope.

The leper comes to Jesus and begs Him on his knees. The leper doesn’t appear to get too close, nor does he touch Jesus. That was forbidden. Still, the leper disregards the law that said he was to stay away. He disregards the only words he was to say, “Unclean! Unclean!” He disregards the possibility that Jesus might just turn and walk away. He disregards them because his only regard is for hope and healing. The leper kneels down. With hoarseness, for leprosy affects vocal chords, he croaks his request: “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” He waits. He knows his future, his family, his happiness, his hope all depend upon the Savior’s reply.

Let’s leave the leper on his knees. Let’s turn out attention to Jesus. How does He react? Jesus doesn’t run from the leper afraid of being infected. He doesn’t shield His eyes from the horror kneeling before Him. He didn’t shout, “Keep your distance, fool! You’ve come close enough!” Jesus stood, watching as the leper came, waiting to hear what the man would say. The leper knelt. He had no delusions about this visit. He knew this was not a visit between equals. He knew he was not entering into any kind of negotiation. He had no right to make demands. The leper knew he was a beggar who was going to make a humanly impossible plea.

It’s important to note what the leper did not say. He didn’t say, “Jesus, I deserve to be healed.” He didn’t ask Jesus for healing at all. He didn’t say, “Jesus please put back my nose, my fingers, my toes, my home, my family.” He didn’t ask that everything be returned to the way it had been. From deep within him comes a pathetic, passionate plea, “Jesus, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” He didn’t doubt that Jesus had the power to heal. He only wondered whether Jesus had the willingness to listen to the hope of the hopeless.

Before we look at how Jesus responds, I want you to substitute your face for that of the leper’s; your hands for his; your feet for his; your future for his. I want you to kneel before the Savior as the leper did. Why? Because his story is your story, my story, the story of every man, woman and child this sinful earth has ever produced.

The leper certainly had problems. What are your problems? Perhaps you’ve lost your job; the federal government is passing a 700 plus billion dollar stimulus package, yet Governor Doyle is talking about still raising our taxes; your mom has incurable cancer; your dad is beginning to show signs of dementia; you don’t know which hurts worse – your stubborn arthritis or your stubborn teenagers; you are stuck in a loveless relationship; mom and dad argue all the time; you screen your calls so you don’t have to talk to creditors; you are getting poor grades in school; your classmates don’t seem to like you; you have to work, feed the kids, cart them all over for their activities, plus take care of your aging parents. Whew!

You may feel just as alone, just as isolated, just as hopeless as this leper. You feel unloved, unappreciated, unwelcome. The leper had no feeling. Perhaps you wish you didn’t have feelings because the physical pain is so great, the heartache so intense, the mental anguish so severe. We share a lot with the leper. But the greatest malady we share with the leper and each other is our sin.

Each of us, because of our sin, because of our sinful nature, because of our evil thoughts, words and actions, is just as condemned to a life of misery and an eternity of agony as was that leper. Like him, left on our own, there is no comfort for this life, no hope of heaven, no chance of escape. That is why you must, in repentant humility, kneel before Jesus and say, “Lord, if you are willing, make me clean.” Don’t think you deserve to be healed. You don’t. Don’t believe that God owes you. He doesn’t. Don’t imagine that you are worthy of love and forgiveness. You aren’t. If your life is going to be changed it will only be because God’s grace wants it to be so.

Let’s look again at Jesus and the leper. We are also looking at Jesus and you. The leper has spoken ... now it’s your turn. Go ahead. Ask Him. If Jesus hasn’t run from a leper, He’s not going to run from you. Ask Him, “Jesus, are you willing to help me with my burdens? Are you willing to help me with my troubles? Are you willing to help me when I am distressed, distraught, discouraged, depressed?” Don't be afraid. Speak what is in your heart. Kneel before your Savior and say, “Lord, if you want, you can make me clean.” Hear Him say, as only the Savior can say, “I am willing, be clean.” Jesus is willing. No matter what troubles you have, Jesus is willing. No matter how much the distress of life has worn you down; no matter what sins you've done in the past, Jesus is willing to help you, to forgive you, possibly heal you, certainly lift you up and grant you a life better than any you have ever dreamed of living. Jesus is willing. He says so. Be clean.

Not only does Jesus say that He is willing to help, He provides that help with a touch. A touch. “Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man.” It is a gesture of the unthinkable. Jesus touched the untouchable. It was unbelievable. He loved the unlovable. Who would do such a thing? There is only one such person – Jesus Christ, the Son of God, our Savior. Jesus reached out to the leper and touched him. The same way Jesus reached out to the possessed, to the sick, to the lost, to the lame, to the condemned. He reached out to the adulterer, the thief, and the murderer. And Jesus is reaching out to you, right now. Jesus sees your problem and is willing to help you. Without any merit or worthiness in you, Jesus wants to help you now and in eternity. Jesus, who has redeemed you at the cost of His own life; who has brought you from sin, death and the devil by His substitutionary death is willing. He reaches out to you. He says, as He did to the leper, “Be clean.” It is more than anyone has the right to expect. It is more than we deserve. It is God’s omnipotent power and His gracious love coming together. Since Jesus is willing, you can be healed and be whole.

While the pastor was making a hospital call, he saw a fellow dressed in street clothes burst out of one of the rooms shouting. The doctor and a few nurses were right behind him, trying to catch up, trying to call him back, trying to hush him up. But the man couldn’t be caught and he wouldn’t be silenced. He saw the pastor and ran down the hallway at him … which scared the pastor just a little bit, and would have scared him a whole lot more if the man hadn’t been smiling from ear-to-ear. He came up to the pastor and shouted: “The baby is going to live! The doctor said, ‘The baby is going to live!’” And then the man disappeared down the hallway shouting the same wonderful message over and over again. As the doctor passed by, he smiled and said four words, “He got good news.”

Well, the leper got good news. Scripture says, “Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.” No skin grafts, no plastic surgeons, no prolonged hospital stays. His leprosy left him. Then, instead of remaining quiet, “the man went out and he began to talk freely, spreading the news.” Who can blame him? His life had been changed! His future had been reversed! He told his friends, his family, his village about what had happened. Goodness, he would have told total strangers. I’ll bet before the year was out his children could tell the story as well as he. When he started telling the story at the dinner table, they would have rolled their eyes and said, “Oh, no, dad, not that story again.” And dad would have said, “Yes, that story again. It’s the story that changed my life.”

Jesus has changed our lives. Not because we have earned it or deserved it or even wished it. Only because He is willing. From sinner to saint. From horror to heaven. From leper colony to life with God. That’s our story. Yes, that story again. Because He is willing, Jesus has changed our lives. Amen.