Those gut-wrenching moments

This is the sermon manuscript from 11/12 February, the 6^th Sunday after Epiphany. The accompanying Gospel lesson is Mark 1:40-45.

I remember one time I was at the Seattle-Tacoma airport, standing in line to fly back to Texas after a youth mission trip. We had spent a week in one of the suburbs painting houses and repairing porches. It was the July after my senior year. I had just graduated high school and was on my way to college. I was 18 and high on life. I noticed the woman next to me in line was troubled. She had an empty look that suggested her world was about to end. For whatever reason, and I put this all on the Holy Spirit, I asked her what was wrong. She told me she was flying home to Brazil to bury her father. She was flying by herself, had no one to talk to and did not know where to turn. Even in a crowded airport she felt alone, separated from the hustle and bustle of life because she was in tears. Grief can be a terrible barrier between strangers. She was walking through the valley of the shadow of death alone. It was a gut-wrenching moment.

These moments can happen anywhere, even way the beaten path. And that’s exactly where our story from Mark takes place today; way the beaten path. Let’s call it the margins of society. And by margins, I mean that we are way out on the edge of anything that could be loosely called society. If Galilee was a rural town with one stop light, our story today takes place way out in the sticks.

Jesus and his disciples are well into their journey of taking the good news of God to all corners of the country side, and along the road they are met by a man. He is described as a “leper,” but this label can be deceiving. The Greek word Mark uses to describe this man is λεπρός (lepros); it is simply a word used to describe scaly, rough skin. Perhaps this poor fellow had a bad case of acne, or he suffered from a perpetual skin rash because the air was dry, there is really no way to know for sure. Regardless of what he had, he was labeled by those in charge, the religious folk at the synagogue, as “unclean.”

So this man, let’s call him Leon, is way out in the sticks because that’s where he is supposed to be as deemed by those who make the rules. Leon has probably lived his whole life with the label of “leper.” He is kept away from others. He has been told over and over again that he might contaminate others, make them “unclean” as well and so he needs to stay away for the sake of the community.

And yet he approaches Jesus. Leon knows the rules, he knows his place, but he is drawn to Jesus. There is something about Jesus that attracts those in need. Remember the whole town of Capernaum turned up last week to be healed by Jesus. And earlier, the whole Judean countryside turned up to hear John the Baptist preach. There must be something wrong with the religious system if so many people are seeking help elsewhere, if so many people are turning away from the religious leaders who are supposed to welcome them and meet their needs.

And indeed there is something wrong. The system is broken. The rules meant to give life to the community are being abused by those in power. The needs of the community are not being met; the unclean remain unclean regardless of the sacrifices they make. Through the rituals and sacrifices and taxes, the label of “unclean” is rarely removed. The religious leaders have created labels and barriers and to keep those who are “unclean” in their place.

Leon had probably been to the priests already, but was told they could not help him, that he just needed to accept his label and go back to the margins, out to the sticks, where no one has to be made uncomfortable or put at risk by his difference. Leon is not part of the community and suffers the pain and agony of life without the love and support of a community. It’s heartbreaking.

So Leon turns to Jesus, falls on his knees, and pleads, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” If you choose, you can remove this label. You can recognize me as a fellow human being. You can restore me to the community and change my life.

And Jesus, who knows the rules, who has experienced the broken system, who has seen people like Leon turned away his whole life, does not run the opposite way. He does not cringe or pause out of some fear of the difference. Quite the opposite actually. Mark tells us that Jesus is moved by compassion. The word Mark uses for compassion is complicated and a mouthful, but it literally translates as “being moved in ones bowels.” In Jesus day the bowels were thought to be the place of compassion, you felt compassion in your guts. Jesus is physically moved by Leon’s cry for help. Jesus literally has a gut-wrenching moment.

And in that gut-wrenching moment, Jesus reaches out his hand to help. He is tired of a broken system. He knows God is bigger than labels. The kingdom of God does not operate by human rules. Jesus is doing something new, giving life back to a broken world.

When Jesus looks at Leon, he does not see the label of “unclean,” he sees another person who is struggling to make it through our rough and tumble world. Jesus sees someone who is in need of a community of support. Jesus sees a child of God. “I do choose,” he tells Leon. “Be made clean.” In one breath the label of “unclean” is removed. Leon is now free to be part of the community once more. He can go to church with everyone else on the Sabbath. He can go to the market without dirty looks. He is no longer confined to life on the margins. He doesn’t have to avoid people anymore. In a gut-wrenching moment Jesus gives new meaning to Leon’s life by removing a label. That’s the power of the love of Jesus Chris. He breaks down social barriers; he erases the “labels” that divide and separate. Jesus restores community by removing that which divides us from one another.

I remember standing there in the airport with this woman who was mourning the loss of her father. We were divided by all sorts of barriers and labels. Child/adult. Boy/woman. Joy/sorrow. But the Spirit was moving. The love of Jesus was at hand. I asked her if she wanted to pray and she said yes to a complete stranger. I don’t remember the words that were spoken or the time that passed. The next thing I knew we were at the security gate. She hugged me and we went our separate ways. In that moment the love Jesus had stripped all the barriers between an 18 year kid from Texas and a grieving woman from Brazil. We were separated by culture and so much more, but Jesus was there, breaking down the barriers and labels and restoring community. In that moment there were no labels, just two people trying to make sense of a rough and tumble world. We saw an opportunity to not be alone in time of sadness. Jesus met us in that gut-wrenching moment, stripped away the barriers, allowed love to reign.

So where are the gut-wrenching moments in your life? Where are you so moved with compassion that you are willing to break down barriers and strip away labels for the sake of the Gospel? Our call as the disciples of Jesus is to help break down the barriers in our world that separate and divide us; brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, friends and strangers. Through our baptism we have the strength to be the body of Christ. Jesus broke the ultimate barrier of life and death so that we would no longer have to live in fear of barriers. That’s the power of the love of Jesus Christ. And through his love we can restore community and live as the body of Christ. So kept alert dear people. Don’t dismiss those gut-wrenching moments. The love of Jesus Christ may be at work in you.