Tawa Baptist

The Real Problem

Scripture: Mark 7:1-23

Video Link:  https://youtu.be/IF2_X66dpKo

Structure:

  • Introduction
  • Defeating the purpose
  • The real problem
  • Conclusion

Introduction:

Good morning everyone.

What is more important, the contents of a can or the label? Well, both have value. Without the label you wouldn’t know what was inside the can. But you cannot eat the label. The label merely points to the purpose of the can. The contents fulfil the purpose, which is to feed you, so the contents are more important. 

What is more important, having a shiny new paint job for your car or a reliable engine? Well, both have value. Without the paint job your car would be more vulnerable to rust. But the paint job isn’t what moves the car. The engine fulfills the purpose of the car, which is getting you from A to B, so a reliable engine is more important.

During the month of August, we looked at four passages from the book of Acts in support of Arotahi, our overseas mission organisation. Today we start a new series following the lectionary readings.

This morning’s lectionary reading focuses on the gospel of Mark, chapter 7.

In this reading, Jesus shows us what matters to God. The inner state of your heart is more important than the performance of external rituals. From verse 1 of Mark 7 we read…       

The Pharisees and some of the teachers of the law who had come from Jerusalem gathered around Jesus 2 and saw some of his disciples eating food with hands that were defiled, that is, unwashed. 3 (The Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they give their hands a ceremonial washing, holding to the tradition of the elders. 4 When they come from the marketplace they do not eat unless they wash. And they observe many other traditions, such as the washing of cups, pitchers and kettles.) 5 So the Pharisees and teachers of the law asked Jesus, “Why don’t your disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with defiled hands?” 6 He replied, “Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written: “‘These people honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. 7 They worship me in vain; their teachings are merely human rules.’ 8 You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions.” 9 And he continued, “You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in order to observeyour own traditions! 10 For Moses said, ‘Honour your father and mother,’and, ‘Anyone who curses their father or mother is to be put to death.’ 11 But you say that if anyone declares that what might have been used to help their father or mother is Corban (that is, devoted to God)— 12 then you no longer let them do anything for their father or mother. 13 Thus you nullify the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down. And you do many things like that.”

May the Spirit of Jesus illuminate God’s word for us.

Defeating the purpose:

You have all heard of the phrase defeating the purpose. Defeating the purpose is when you do something that undermines what you are trying to achieve.

For example, cleaning your kitchen bench with a dirty cloth defeats the purpose.

Or take another example: the purpose of a holiday is to have a break from work, relax, unwind and spend time with family and friends. But if you keep checking your work emails all the time, that defeats the purpose of the holiday.

Or perhaps you want to provide counselling services for problem gamblers.

It would defeat the purpose somewhat if you funded the counselling services from pokey machines.           

Owning an electric car makes sense in a country like New Zealand, where much of our electricity supply comes from renewable sources, like hydro and wind. But if you live in a country where electricity comes mainly from coal, then the purpose of driving an electric car is defeated.

The purpose of the Law of Moses is to love God and love your neighbour.

Sadly, the Pharisees and teachers of the law, in Mark 7, were defeating the purpose of the law. 

A delegation of religious experts came from Jerusalem and gathered around Jesus. When they saw Jesus’ disciples eating food without first washing their hands, they questioned Jesus about it.

There was Jesus healing the sick, casting out demons, preaching amazing sermons, setting people free, basically making life better, and the Pharisees overlook all that, focusing instead on the hand washing habits of the disciples. 

It’s like reading a great novel only to take issue with a single word that was misspelt, even though the meaning was clear. Or it’s like eating the best meal of your life and then complaining about the colour of the waiter’s tie, as if that made a difference. Talk about missing the point.

Of course, the Pharisees cannot see they are missing the point. They think handwashing is the point and, if we had been immersed in their religion and culture from a young age, we might too.

Now, having recently come through the Covid pandemic, I need to be clear, the Pharisees’ obsession with hand washing was not for hygiene reasons. It was for religious reasons.

For centuries the Jews had been living under the thumb of their enemies.

Therefore, it was important for them not to be assimilated by the surrounding culture. They were very careful to maintain their Hebrew identity.

For the Pharisees, loyalty to God equated to staying separate from the pagan Gentiles around them. Observing ritual washing traditions was one of the ways the Jews stayed separate and pure. To break the purity rules was akin to treason, in their mind.

You also need to know that the Pharisees’ rules about hand washing were part of an oral tradition passed down by the Jewish elders. The law of Moses did not require this level of washing. Jewish priests were required to wash their hands as part of the ceremony of sacrifice, but regular people did not need to do this.

The Pharisees added to the law by expecting everyone to perform a little hand washing ceremony before eating.  

Jesus doesn’t beat around the bush. He tells the Pharisees very clearly, they are wrong. And he does this using Scripture and logic. Jesus quotes the prophet Isaiah, an authority they accepted.

Basically, the Pharisees’ worship of God was in vain. Their worship was like an empty can. The label was misleading. Their worship was like a car with a shiny new paint job, but no engine. It looked good but it lacked power.  

In verses 9-14, Jesus gives an example of the way the Pharisees defeat the purpose of God’s law. God commands people to honour their parents. Among other things, this means helping to support your parents financially when they become unable to do this for themselves. (Remember, there was no government superannuation 2000 years ago. Your kids were your superannuation plan.)

Sadly, the manmade tradition of the elders gave people a loophole for getting out of taking care of dependent parents. If you declared your money or anything else you owned as dedicated to God, then (according to the Pharisees) you could avoid using it to look after your parents.

Thus, the Pharisees’ tradition defeated the purpose of God’s command.

Now, it’s important to remember that Jesus is not saying that all tradition is bad. We still need tradition. Tradition has a valuable role to play, particularly when it comes to teaching those who come after us.

Traditions can serve as a pathway to faith in Jesus. We just need to be careful that our traditions don’t defeat God’s purpose. If our traditions get in the way of obeying God in faith, then we change our traditions.   

From our vantage point it is tempting to look down on the Pharisees. We might wonder, how could they not see they had missed the point. How could they be so obtuse and not realise they were undermining God’s law?

Well, we all have our blind spots. We all have a little bit of Pharisee in us.

Better to ask ourselves…

What substance is there to our worship?

Are we living a life of justice, mercy and humility?

Is the label of our can a true representation of what the can contains?

Does the way we practice our religion look shiny and new but lack power? 

What minors do we major on?

Have we let go of God’s commands?

What traditions do we hold to that no longer serve God’s purpose?

The real problem:

Jesus gets the last word. The Pharisees have no answer for him. Seeing a teachable moment, Jesus called the crowd to him and said, “Listen to me, everyone, and understand this. 15 Nothing outside a person can defile them by going into them. Rather, it is what comes out of a person that defiles them.” 17 After he had left the crowd and entered the house, his disciples asked him about this parable. 18 “Are you so dull?” he asked. “Don’t you see that nothing that enters a person from the outside can defile them? 19 For it doesn’t go into their heart but into their stomach, and then out of the body.” (In saying this, Jesus declared all foods clean.) 20 He went on: “What comes out of a person is what defiles them. 21 For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come—sexual immorality, theft, murder, 22 adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. 23 All these evils come from inside and defile a person.”

You may have seen an ad on TV about what to do if you have a heart attack. The ad shows a man (Jamie) feeling the symptoms of a heart attack. Blocked arteries, shortness of breath, chest discomfort, and a sore shoulder.

Unfortunately, Jamie is not aware of the real problem. He makes the call to take a hot shower, and the voice over says, ‘Unfortunately water won’t fix a heart attack. If you or someone else experience the symptoms of a heart attack, make the right call. Call 111 immediately.’

If you have problems with your heart, you need a doctor, not a shower.

The doctor might prescribe medication, or you may need an operation.

Whatever remedy the doctor prescribes though, it will work on the inside of you, not the outside.     

The Pharisees taught that ceremonial washing made people clean or spiritually right before God. Unfortunately, the Pharisees were wrong.

Washing your hands and kitchen ware to make yourself right with God is like trying to fix a heart attack by taking a hot shower. It doesn’t work. A heart problem is internal and washing is external. You can’t fix internal problems in an external way. 

When Jesus pointed this out saying, nothing that enters a person from the outside can defile them, the disciples were in shock. Jesus was basically telling them, ‘Most of what you know is wrong’. Understandably, the disciples struggle to accept Jesus’ words.

Jesus’ meaning is basically this: Food is not dirty. Excrement (what goes down the toilet) is dirty. In fact, what you eat makes no difference to your relationship with God. (In saying this, Jesus declared all foods clean.)

That probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to us, but it was earth shattering news for the disciples. There were certain foods, like pork and shellfish, that Jews never ate because they were not kosher (not clean). To eat any forbidden food was to break Israel’s covenant with God.

Now, the ban on certain foods wasn’t just a man-made tradition. It came from the law of Moses. So, by declaring all foods clean, Jesus was essentially declaring parts of the law of Moses to be no longer necessary. That was massive. To do that Jesus would have to be greater than Moses.

Why then did Jesus do this?

When you build a house, you often have scaffolding up around the outside.

But once the house is complete, the builders take the scaffolding down. 

It’s similar when you are pouring concrete. While the cement is still wet, you keep the boxing in place. But once the cement has set, you can remove the boxing.

Or think about when you make muffins. While the muffin mixture is runny and baking in the oven, you leave it in the muffin casing. But once the muffins are cooked and ready to eat, you no longer need the casing.

The kosher food laws were a bit like scaffolding or boxing or muffin casings. They were necessary for a time, but with the coming of Jesus, the Messiah, a new era had arrived and prohibitions on what you could eat got in the way.

God’s plan of salvation included the gentiles, which meant Jews and Gentiles needed to be able to fellowship together without worrying about what they ate or who they came in contact with.

(It doesn’t work to put new wine into old wine skins. It doesn’t work to patch an old garment with new cloth.) 

In verses 20-23, Jesus goes on to explain it is what comes out of the heart that makes a person unclean before God. Moral vices like theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, and so on, these are the things that defile a person.

There are some hard truths in Jesus’ words here that we must face…

Firstly, the moral aspects of the law (summarised by the ten commandments for example) are still very relevant. The kosher food laws may have served their purpose, but the moral law still stands. Jesus does not set us free to do whatever we want. Jesus sets us free to love God and love our neighbour.  

The second (equally important) truth is that what really matters to God is the state of your heart. Now, in this context, the heart is not the physical blood pump in your chest. Rather the heart refers to the core of your soul. Your mind, emotions and will. That part deep within you, where desire and motivation come from. Most of the time we are not aware of what is going on in our heart.

This was a complete paradigm shift for the disciples. They thought the problem came from the outside. Avoid contact with the Gentiles, don’t eat certain foods and God will accept you.

But Jesus is saying, no, the problem is not external. The problem is not with the Gentiles or with pork. The real problem is with you, with your heart. External rituals, like ceremonial hand washing, can’t cleanse the human heart any more than a hot shower can unblock clogged arteries.

So, what is the remedy? Well, Jesus does not offer a remedy in today’s reading. Jesus diagnoses the problem (which is the human heart) and leaves this truth with his disciples. He lets it sinks in.

You need to understand that the words Jesus spoke (about evil coming from within) were not just meant for the Pharisees or for people 2000 years ago. Jesus’ words apply to us today, as well. The problem is in you and it’s in me.

You may not have committed adultery or murder. You may not steal or bear false witness in court, but that is only by the grace of God and a lack of opportunity.

The potential to do great harm is within each one of us. Evil may lie dormant, so we are not aware of it. But, by a series of unfortunate events, it could be woken, and all hell would break loose. Pray that does not happen.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil, (especially the evil within).

The problem, Jesus said, is with the human heart. And the remedy is a new heart. The prophets talked about this remedy centuries before Jesus came.

In Ezekiel 36 the Lord says…

25 …I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. 26 I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. 27 And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. 

A heart of stone is a hard heart, a dead heart, a mind and a will that is callous and obtuse to the ways of God. A heart of flesh is a soft heart, a living heart,

a mind and a will that is compassionate and responsive to God.

The thing we notice here is that none of us can give ourselves a new heart.

If you have a problem with your physical heart, you can’t do surgery on yourself to rectify the problem. Somebody else, with the right knowledge and skill, needs to operate on you.

It’s the same with your spiritual heart. You can’t do surgery on your own soul. God is the only one with the knowledge and skill to heal your heart, which is where Jesus comes in. It is through Jesus’ death and resurrection and the gift of the Holy Spirit that God cleanses us and gives us a new heart.

When you become a Christian, you hand the keys of your heart to Jesus.

Your heart comes under new management with Jesus in charge and Jesus sends his Spirit to begin renovating your heart.

With any renovation there is a demolition stage. A stage when your heart feels like it is in a mess, in turmoil. During the renovation process you will become more aware of the evil within you. You may wonder, ‘Am I really a Christian?

I thought I was meant to get better, not worse’.

Don’t give up. Hang in there. You are justified by Christ, not by anything you do. A greater awareness of your own sin leads to a greater awareness of God’s grace for you personally.  

The renovation of your heart carries on throughout this life. It can feel long and painful at times. But, when Jesus returns in glory and the dead are raised to life eternal, the renovation is over, and those who are in Christ will receive the new heart God promised. Exactly how God does this, is a mystery. It is beyond our comprehension.

Conclusion:

Shortly, we will share communion together. Communion is not an empty ritual. Communion is pregnant with meaning. Communion was something Jesus asked his followers to do, to remember him, especially his death and resurrection.

Communion honours what Jesus did on the cross to cleanse us from our sin. More than that, communion is an act of hope, affirming God’s power to raise the dead and give us a new heart, a new mind, a new motivation to love and obey him.

May the Spirit of Jesus renew us from within. Amen.

———————————————

Questions for discussion or reflection:

  1. What stands out for you in reading this Scripture and/or in listening to the sermon? Why do you think this stood out to you?
  2. Why were the Pharisees obsessed with hand washing? Why did Jesus criticise their traditions?
  3. What is the purpose of God’s law? In what way(s) did the Pharisees’ traditions defeat the purpose of God’s law?
  4. What traditions and rituals do you observe? How do these support you to obey God in faith? Are any of your traditions or rituals getting in the way of obeying God in faith? What needs to change?
  5. Discuss / reflect on the implications of Jesus’ words in Mark 7:15 & 18-19.
  6. What is the real problem (according to Jesus)? What makes a person unclean before God?
  7. What is God’s remedy for the problem? What has been your experience of the Spirit’s work in renovating your heart so far?  
Tawa Baptist

Kevin

Scripture: Luke 17:11-19

  • Introduction
  • Kevin
  • Trevor
  • Jesus
  • Conclusion

Introduction

Sometimes we go through life unaware. Unaware of ourselves. Unaware of the burdens our neighbours carry. Unaware of the way our actions affect others, for good or ill. Unaware of what is just around the corner. No one thinks it will happen to them.

Kevin

Hi. My full name is a bit of a mouthful so you can just call me Kevin for short. It will make it easier for you. I know what you’re thinking, Will and I look exactly the same. The likeness is uncanny I know. But I’m actually slightly more handsome than Will (especially for my age) and better at preaching. Don’t say anything to Will though. He can be a bit sensitive about that sort of stuff.

Anyway, Will asked me to speak to you this morning because it is world leprosy day. I was born around 2000 years ago and lived in what you know as the middle east – on a hill in central Palestine, in the West Bank territory, to be more precise.

My father sold figs and other fruit in the local market. He was a kind man, probably too kind for his own good in his line of work. I loved being with him and he was happy for me to tag along.

Working in the markets as we did, bartering and haggling, you learned to be aware. Aware of who was around you and who was missing. Aware of regulars and tourists. Aware of small kindnesses and large injustices. Aware of those willing to pay a fair price and those who would rob you if they could. Aware of changes in mood and atmosphere – like the way people stiffened and closed up around occupation soldiers and then relaxed when the threat was gone. Always we were aware of honour and shame.

It’s not like that today. The people I see here, in your world, often seem unaware – plugged in and tuned out. It’s a self-preservation thing I suppose. You are saturated with information. Distractions are constant. I don’t blame you for using a filter. But it’s not good for you to be too closed off. You still need to let some light in.

My dad was aware. He let the light in. At the end of each day, when we were packing up and walking home he would always find something to be thankful for. Even on the seemingly bad days when we didn’t sell much fruit he still found something positive to focus on. Years later I came to realise it was his thankful attitude that funded his kindness.   

None of us know what’s around the corner. I certainly didn’t. My dad’s heart stopped when I was 14, which meant I became responsible for feeding the family. Just my mum and my younger sister. I carried on selling figs and I tried to be thankful but it wasn’t the same without dad. I made enough to get by but, financially, we sailed pretty close to the wind, like almost everyone else.

Things were okay for a couple of years and then I became aware of patches of discoloured skin on my body. There was a numbness in my finger-tips too, which was weird. I ignored it for a while. No one thinks it will happen to them.

Besides, I couldn’t afford to have anything wrong with me. I had to provide for my family. As the patches spread I did my best to cover them up. No one wants to buy fruit off someone who looks sick. But eventually I was found out. It was impossible for me to hide the loss of my eyebrows and eyelashes.  

One of my customers, the mother of a girl I quite liked actually, saw me fumble some fruit. It’s hard to hold onto things when you can’t feel them. She looked at my hand first, then at my missing eyebrows, before drawing a breath in horror and walking off quickly. The shame and humiliation of it was overwhelming.

Shortly afterwards I was aware of a change in the atmosphere. She must have told her neighbours because it wasn’t long before people in the market were whispering to each other and looking at me with disgust and fear, like I was an occupation soldier.    

Nothing is as dangerous as a crowd with an idea in mind. I packed up my fruit stand and headed home as quickly as I could. I didn’t get far though. The first blow was soft and hit me in the back of the head. Never saw it coming. Just a fig. The next blow was a lot harder though and hit me in the chest. A rock. Things were about to get ugly.  

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. In Leviticus the law laid down protocols for dealing with people with skin diseases. I should be examined by a priest, in private. The priest was supposed to make the decision about whether I was clean or unclean and even then there was a seven-day self-isolation period. If my skin disease had not improved in a week then I was to leave.

But the crowd had taken matters into their own hands. They didn’t want my kind around. So I ran as hard as I could and I didn’t look back.

With tears streaming down my face, I wondered if I would ever see my mother and sister again. I couldn’t go home because that would put their lives in danger. What would happen to them now I wasn’t there to provide? There was no government welfare system.

People often aren’t aware of the burdens their neighbours carry or how their own actions affect others.

That night I took shelter under a mustard tree, hungry, cold and exhausted. My feet were bleeding but I couldn’t feel any pain. Not physical pain anyway. There was another kind of pain though, like an emptiness in my heart, that I was all too aware of. Some of you might know it as loneliness. Despite the emptiness I couldn’t find room to be thankful.

I never thought this would happen to me. And by ‘this’ I mean leprosy. We always think it will happen to someone else. But why shouldn’t it happen to me? It happens to someone around the world almost every hour. I wasn’t so special.

There is a randomness to life, it seems, that is as cruel as it is blind. Why should one person be born rich and another poor? Why should one man die in battle and another live? Why should some women lose their husband and their son while others never grieve? God is moral. I know that to be true. But the world we live in is not. We do not get what we deserve. We get what we get.    

I waited for sleep to overcome me, hoping I would never wake up. But God, who is intimately aware of the thoughts of the human heart, sent his angel to watch over me.

Trevor

We often think of angels as perfect heavenly beings, all clothed in purest white, with beautiful faces, fresh breath and soft wings. Yea, nah. The angel God assigned to me was a real fright to look at. His clothes were stained and ripped, his breath smelled like rotten fish and where his wings should have been there was just an unsightly hump.

But he was perfect. Had God sent someone clean and healthy and well-groomed I would have only hated myself all the more for being none of those things. Instead God sent me someone beautifully imperfect, someone I could feel comfortable with.

Trevor, whose real name you could never pronounce, may have been hard to look at but he was the kindest person I have ever met. In that way, at least, he reminded me of my dad. Trevor took care of me. He bandaged my feet, gave me food to eat and water to drink, introduced me to others like us and taught me how to survive.       

Not just physical survival but mental survival. Each of us walks a tight rope in our mind you see. Trevor helped me to keep my balance – to avoid self-pity, resentment, bitterness and other forms of self-harm. By his own example Trevor showed me how to keep a sense of humour, maintain healthy boundaries and take care of myself without disrespecting those around me.  

And he understood the Scriptures in a way that was fresh and simple and profound all at the same time. Ironically, Trevor used to be a Jewish priest. That’s especially ironic because I am a Samaritan, from the West Bank. I suppose in today’s terms that’s like saying I’m a Palestinian.

Traditionally Jews and Samaritans have a long history of tit for tat reprisals and enmity. We hate each other or at least we are expected to. But Trevor didn’t get that email. He loved everyone. It hardly matters when you have leprosy anyway. Leprosy effectively puts Jews & Samaritans, rich & poor, black & white in the same category – unclean, outcast, to be avoided at all costs.     

Trevor explained to me that being unclean was not a moral thing. It was a ceremonial thing. We were not bad people or at least not worse than anyone else. Having leprosy was not a punishment from God. We may have been unlucky but our misfortune did not make us any less loved by God.

Likewise, although we were not able to participate in rituals of community worship, we could still praise God. Trevor taught me that God doesn’t just live in a temple. He fills the whole earth. God is not impressed by aesthetics or how something looks on the outside. True worship comes from a thankful heart, he said. This reminded me of my dad. 

Not everyone in our community was as positive or enlightened as Trevor though. Living with leprosy, being estranged from your family, not knowing where your next meal is coming from, all that sort of stuff is hard. It’s next level hard. And when life is tough it tends to create callouses on the heart. Thankfulness is too easily swallowed up by cynicism.  

But Trevor’s heart never lost its feeling. I think this was because Trevor was aware. Aware of himself and aware of his neighbours. He understood the way his actions affected others. I suppose you might call that empathy or compassion. No one knows what is just around the corner though, not even Trevor.

He died, suddenly one night. Just went to sleep and didn’t wake up. Like my father I guess he was too good for this world. Death happened all the time in our community but that didn’t make Trevor’s passing any easier.

After Trevor’s death I almost lost my balance and fell off that tight rope in my mind. Somehow I managed to hold on by my fingertips. I wasn’t strong or wise or inspirational like Trevor. But I was aware there was no safety net for people like me. Holding on was all I could do. Sometimes though holding on is all you need to do.

Jesus

No one ever thinks it will happen to them. People never think they will win Lotto, but they still buy a ticket anyway, just in case. I never thought I would see my family again, but I still thought about them often and asked God to look after them.

It started out like any other day, no breakfast, just a gnawing hunger and the now familiar numbness. One of the men in our community, he used to be a doctor (leprosy doesn’t discriminate) asked me if I was coming with them. The man they called Jesus was rumoured to be passing by a couple of miles away.

This seemed strange to me. What was Jesus doing all the way out here on the border between Galilee and Samaria? I had nothing else to do so I joined the group. We had all heard about this man called Jesus, who apparently spoke with real authority, stood up to the religious authorities, drove out demons and healed people of all sorts of ailments. 

The ten of us walked in silence. There was no one around and therefore no reason to warn others we were coming. As we walked I felt something stir inside me. I didn’t recognise it at first because it had been a long time since I had felt it. It was hope. Hope is a frightening thing. Misplaced hope, hope that lifts you up only to dump you in a heap of disappointment, is dangerous.

Living with leprosy one learns to manage their hope. I had got into the habit of insuring against the loss of hope by thinking the worst. But that’s no way to live. You have to let some light in. You have to give yourself something to look forward to. Nothing too big. Just enough to keep you going.

So there I was, walking along in silence, aware of this tension within me. Torn between risking it all on this man they called Jesus and holding on to the security blanket of my despair. What if the rumours of Jesus passing our way were not true? Or even worse, what if the rumours were true but he rejected us? Rejection, by now, was my majority experience and it is very difficult to argue with your own experience.  

Unlike the other nine I had two strikes against me. Not only did I live with leprosy, I was a Palestinian from the West Bank and Jesus was an Israeli.

We came round a bend in the road and there he was. It’s strange how we had never seen the man before but somehow we knew it was him. Jesus had this presence about him. He was so centred, so completely at home in his own skin, so confident, without being a poser.

In your English Bibles it says that we stood at a distance and shouted out in a loud voice, ‘Jesus! Master! Have pity on us.’ The part about standing at a distance and shouting is true but that word translated in English as ‘pity’ isn’t quite right.

‘Pity’ urinates on dignity. It has a corrosive effect on your soul after a while. The pity of others makes you feel less somehow. It reminds you that you have nothing to offer, nothing the other person wants anyway. And it leaves you feeling worse than before. No, ‘pity’ is the wrong word.

In the Maori version of the New Testament, it says that we cried out for Jesus to have ‘aroha’ on us. Aroha is a better word. Aroha means love, affection or compassion. Aroha is what we wanted. Not money, not stones turned into bread, not a sign in the sky and certainly not pity. We wanted to be loved because when you are loved the emptiness in your heart is filled. When you are loved there is no room for loneliness but plenty of room for thankfulness.

Jesus saw us. I can’t begin to tell you what it means to be seen by Jesus. When you live with leprosy, people avoid looking at you. They pretend not to see you. They suddenly become interested in something on the ground. They don’t want to see you. But Jesus saw us. He looked at us and he understood the pain we were in, on the inside. My heart felt strangely warmed.   

Thinking about it later I reckon Jesus saw us because he was like us. Rejected, despised, misunderstood. There may have been a physical distance between us and Jesus on that road but there was communion with Christ in our hearts.

Jesus simply told us to ‘go and let the priests examine you’. This was in accordance with the law. Jesus was no liberal. Jesus did things by the book. Nor was he conservative though. Jesus transcended our categories and was in a class all of his own. He did something no one else has ever done. He fulfilled the law.

We hadn’t recovered from our leprosy though. At that point we were still unclean but we understood this was a test of faith. Naaman, the Syrian, was told by Elisha to wash in the River Jordan. Jesus told us to go and see the priests. So we obeyed, because Jesus had seen us and we trusted him.

I don’t remember the precise moment it happened but we hadn’t walked far when I became aware that the skin against my clothes was smooth again. Feeling had returned to my hands and feet. I felt around my eyes. The eyebrows and eyelashes had regrown. The ten of us looked around at each other. We had all been healed.

It was over. Our exile was ended. We were clean at last. We could finally go home to our families. We could find work and participate in worship once more. Maybe find a wife and start a family. All those things I hadn’t dared to hope for were now suddenly possible again.

We quickened our pace, looking for a priest to pronounce us clean as the law required. Then it occurred to me; Jesus was a priest of far higher standing than any in Jerusalem or Samaria. None of those priests could actually heal a person of leprosy. Jesus had healed me and so surely he could pronounce me clean.

I left the others and ran back to find Jesus. True worship comes from a thankful heart. I needed to worship God at the feet of Jesus. And so that’s what I did. Jesus is high priest and temple all rolled into one. In him the presence of God dwells.

When the man they call Jesus saw me do this he said to his disciples, “There were ten men who were healed; where are the other nine? Why is this foreigner the only one who came back to give thanks to God?”

Jesus was pointing out the irony to his disciples, that a Palestinian from the West Bank was more spiritually aware than the average Israelite was.

He called me a ‘foreigner’ because, from the disciples’ perspective, that’s what I was, a Samaritan. A traditional enemy to them. Someone they despised and thought was outside of God’s grace. Perhaps Jesus wanted his followers to become aware of their own prejudice. Maybe he wanted them to see that God loves all people, even Palestinian lepers.  

I’m not sure the disciples fully comprehended what Jesus was implying but eventually they would. Some years later a couple of those men came to the West Bank to tell us about Jesus, how he had been crucified and then raised to life on the third day. I welcomed them and they remembered me. 

I would have stayed there all day at Jesus’ feet but he said to me, “Get up and go; your faith has made you well.”

Jesus honoured me with his words. Those words gave me my dignity back. He is so generous. The credit for the healing belonged entirely to him and yet he shared the credit with me. He acknowledged the mustard seed of faith that I brought to the situation, respecting it like a precious pearl. For indeed it is.

Do you trust Jesus? Our trust is incredibly valuable to God. He treasures it more than we know.

Conclusion:

Sometimes we go through life unaware. Unaware of the hundreds of small miracles God performs for us each day. True worship comes from a thankful heart. A thankful heart funds kindness. My prayer for you is that you would let the light in and be aware that you are loved.

And if that seems impossible to believe right now, if you don’t want to take that kind of risk with your hope, then hold on. Jesus sees you.     

Will tells me you are going to sing a song now and collect a special offering for the leprosy mission.

May grace and peace be yours in abundance.

Questions for discussion or reflection:

What stands out for you in reading this Scripture and/or in listening to the sermon? Why do you think this stood out to you?

  • Who do you identify with most in the story Kevin told? Why is that do you think?
  • What does it mean to ‘let the light in’?  How might you let the light into your life?
  • In what ways did Jesus fulfill the law for the men he cured of leprosy?
  • Kevin made the comment that Jesus is high priest and temple all rolled into one. In what ways does Jesus function as a priest? In what ways does he function as a temple?
  • True worship comes from a thankful heart. Think of one thing from the past 24 hours that you are thankful for? Take some time to remain present to that thing in your mind. Write it down in your journal. Hold it in your awareness through the day. How might you express your gratitude to God? Repeat this ritual every day for a week (or as long as you can).