The Jesus Touch
Polk City UMC
February 13, 2000
Mark Haverland


Mark 1:40-45 A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, "If you choose, you can make me clean." Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, "I do choose. Be made clean!" Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. After sternly warning him he sent him away at once, saying to him, "See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them." But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.


I was riding home with my neighbor and her two small children the other day. I had forgotten what it's like to ride with kids in the back seat. "She touched me." "He's looking at me." "She's making noise." "He's singing." And so on. John Rosemond says that the only way to keep your kids from fighting is to have them 18 years apart. Kate, as an only child, has to fight with the dog when we go on trips. We start our lives so protective of our space and body, and then spend the rest of our lives trying to find someone to touch us, really touch us. As an adult the expression, "I'm really touched," carries the message of being powerfully and positively affected by something or someone. They say youth is wasted on the young, but not in this case. Teenagers, I guess, do learn the power and pleasure of touch, which then scares parents in a different way.


Not a lot has been said about the horrifying last moments in the Challenger disaster of several years ago. I have a hunch the government is protecting us from something really awful. I heard recently that the last words spoken before the space craft crashed into the sea was someone saying, "Take my hand." When all else fails, at least we can touch each other.


How many of us have touched someone who was or became President? Politicians realize the value of touch more than just about anyone. It takes Presidential candidates hours to enter and leave a room because they know how valuable their touch can be. My favorite story is when Bill Clinton was campaigning for President in 1992. Kate and Faith went to see him at a rally in Indianola. As he entered the area along a rope line, he shook hands with everyone he could. Kate and Faith were standing in the second tier of people and poor Kate was so short, she couldn't see Clinton nor could he see her. As he approached them, Faith said, loud enough for Clinton to hear evidently, "Kate, stick out your hand!" Clinton stopped, and looked down to where he knew some child's hand would emerge from the crowd. When he saw it, he grabbed Kate's hand. He has really good instincts for this sort of thing.


Along these lines, Twila Glenn, our conference Council on Ministry director, told me a similar story of Al Gore. Twila had brought her grandchildren to a rally for Al Gore's recent campaign in Iowa. Gore was coming along the rope line toward the two young kids while Twila watched expectantly from the other side. Just as he got close, Gore turned and came across to greet people on Twila's side. As he reached for Twila's hand, instead of shaking his hand she pointed anxiously across the aisle and gasped' "Grandchildren!" Gore swung away abruptly and crossed back to greet the two young boys. Being a grandparent may turn out to be a big advantage for Gore.


As you can tell, the part of this mornings Gospel lesson that leaps out at me is where Mark tells us that Jesus touched the leper. Likely, he did more than shake his hand. More likely, Jesus violated the taboo against touching the unclean leper by embracing him. It is no accident that isolated people are sometimes referred to as "out of touch." The leper was one of those who were isolated as unclean. No one could touch him on pain of becoming unclean also. To be a leper was to be like a dead body, no one could touch you. When the leper asks Jesus to touch him, he is in effect asking to be raised from the dead, something only God can do.


Even before he finished dialing, he somehow knew he'd made a mistake. The phone rang once, twice--then someone picked it up. "You got the wrong number!" a husky male voice snapped before the line went dead. Mystified, the man dialed again. "I said you got the wrong number!" came the voice. Once more the phone clicked down. "How could he possibly know I had a wrong number?" the man wondered. At that time he worked for the New York City Police Department. A cop is trained to be curious--and concerned. So he dialed a third time. "Hey, c'mon," the voice said. "Is this you again?" "Yeah, it's me. I was wondering how you knew I had the wrong number before I even said anything." "You figure it out!" The phone slammed down. He sat there for a while, the receiver hanging loosely in his fingers. He called the man back. "Did you figure it out yet?" the man asked. "The only thing I can think of is... nobody ever calls you." "You got it!" The phone went dead for the fourth time. Chuckling, the officer dialed the man back. "What do you want now?" the man asked. "I thought I'd call--just to say hello." "Hello? Why?" "Well, if nobody ever calls you, I thought maybe I should." Reach out and touch someone is a well advised slogan for the phone company.


Touch is not always a good thing. Many who touch do so with the violence of anger. When I was on the school board I argued against a policy that let teachers or administrators hit students. I doubted that hitting was necessary for control. The teacher I remember having the best classroom management skills was a 97 pound elderly lady who didn't need to tower over and physically intimidate anyone. Nobody defied her authority because of the respect and awe she demanded and received. I'm not exactly sure what she did, but nobody ever got out of line in her class. In addition, I never liked the fact that girls were hardly ever hit by teachers, that boys were hit only until they were bigger than the teachers, and that the hitting was always pathologically cool, deliberate and premeditated -- the kind of violence that scares the jibbies out of us when it happens to Jamie Lee Curtis. Touching someone else should always be an act of kindness, not violence. There's too much physical assault in homes these days to perpetuate its use in the schools. It's a sad fact that many women go to physicians solely because it is the only place a man touches them with kindness and compassion. I wonder sometimes how much better life would be if husbands and wives just touched each other more often in kind and gentle ways. A gentle touch like a kind word should be a daily part of every marriage.


Too many touches are angry and violent. Other touches invade a person's privacy and integrity. Coaches and teachers are taught specific limitations to the ways they touch their students and players. And rightly so. We've had our share of teachers and coaches here in Iowa get into trouble with this sort of thing. Some professionals caution also against too much hugging and touching even in church. Those who have experienced hurtful and inappropriate touching can be frightened and threatened by so much forced intimacy. I grew up with the reserve of the Norwegian bachelor farmer that Garrison Keilor talks about. It's not because I dislike touching, it's because touching is too powerful for me. I'm perfectly happy with the sideways hug perfected by Minnesotans who find a full frontal hug a bit too suggestive. We should be careful with the ways we touch each other, since touching has enormous power to hurt, to entice, and to heal. The story of Jesus touching the leper in order to heal him shows how powerful a touch can be.


Jesus took some risks when he touched that leper. The society in which Jesus lived separated the clean from the unclean. There were clear-cut boundaries between the two. It was believed that unclean persons were sinful and possessed evil spirits. Therefore, they were ostracized, kept at a safe distance from clean people for fear of becoming contaminated with the sin and evil of the unclean. Leprosy in those days was not necessarily Hanson's Disease, which, interestingly enough, is not contagious. It could be several different kinds of skin diseases or conditions. The negative stigma attached to leprosy meant big changes for people. It meant that one had to live in exile from the mainstream of society. It meant that one was considered "the living dead." It meant living a life in isolation from one's previous family, friends, neighbors, work, and so on. It meant having to keep several feet away from so-called "clean" people and yell out loud in warning to them: "Unclean! Unclean!" All-in-all, it was a life of oppression, humiliation and suffering.


Jesus heals the leper with his touch and in so doing reaches across the chasm which separates the so called clean from the unclean. It is a story of revolution -- against resignation; against the destruction of life; against the narrow, rigid cultural and religious boundaries placed on certain "unclean" people. It's a story of breaking boundaries; transforming evil into good; healing by taking the risk of touching someone untouchable; finding and celebrating a new, changed life of wholeness.


In our contemporary society, we too have our "unclean" people. Although they may not necessarily be lepers, nonetheless they may feel that way because of how they are ostracized by the so-called "clean" in our society. Poor people, old people, chronically ill people, minorities, immigrants, people with AIDS or cancer, even the mentally and physically disabled, can tell stories of isolation, oppression, humiliation and suffering. These people often feel very alone and forgotten by the mainstream of society. Some have experienced isolation and condemnation from those closest to them -- their own family members, friends and neighbors. As followers of Jesus, who healed and touched, ate with, befriended, and warmly welcomed the "unclean" of his society -- how do we respond to the so-called "unclean" of our society? Does our Christian faith make any difference? Do we model our behaviors and attitudes after Jesus? Do we reach out and touch the "out of touch" people around us?


For Jesus, nothing stays the way it is: the lame do not remain lame, lepers do not remain unclean, the poor will have enough for their lives, the mighty do not stay mighty, and tyrants are overthrown. Life is possible for everyone, even when everything seems otherwise. The miracle stories are stories of revolt against resignation and against the destruction of life. They are stories that teach people not to call it quits, not to satisfy themselves with mediocre and lazy lives. You have a right to life in all its wholeness. Reach for it. God will touch you if you ask.


We are invited by Jesus to draw close to him spiritually through prayer and meditation, worshiping him, studying the scriptures, receiving the sacraments, and by participating in our faith community's events. Jesus touches us in worship, in prayer, in service, in community, in study.


Jesus touches the leper and cahnges his life forever. But Jesus had less success convincing the leper to keep his healing a secret. Instead of listening to Jesus' instructions, the leper goes and does what Jesus had "sternly" warned him not to do. The cleansed, healed leper freely goes out and spreads "The Good News" of what Jesus had done for him. He couldn't contain himself. He couldn't keep it a secret. Christ's healing touch so deeply and profoundly liberated his whole being that he flooded over with gratitude which had to be shared with the world.


May we too become so touched by the healing power of Jesus that we cannot contain ourselves; we cannot keep it a secret; we just have to spread "The Good News" in a spirit of joyful gratitude with the whole world.