He Touched Me

2 Kings 5:1-15
Mark 1:40-45

When we lived in Atlanta I heard that the large hospital associated with our University had a medical unit with ‘perks.’ It was a hospital floor dedicated to the fabulously wealthy and notably famous. When dignitaries, actors, rock-stars, or politicians were in town and then fell ill or got injured that is where they went for treatment.

It was absolutely private – no one from the outside world could just walk in. There was extra security, gourmet food, 400 count Egyptian cotton sheets, and nurses and doctors falling all over them.

They didn’t have to wait for hours to see a doctor. When they rang for a nurse, they didn’t have to twiddle their thumbs until one had a spare minute, and their every need was looked after.

They were, after all, famous, wealthy, and willing to pay for every convenience they could get their hands on. They expected a certain level of respect, personal attention, and comfort.

Some 2,700 years ago there was a famous, powerful, military commander who had similar expectations. He had leprosy – which was probably not what we know as technical leprosy today (Hansen’s Disease), but was probably an embarrassing and uncomfortable skin infection, rash, or fungus.

He heard that there was a prophet in Israel – a holy man of God – who could take care of such things. As one of the most powerful men in the world he had certain expectations of the level of care that Elisha the prophet would offer him. As such expectations were blown out of the water.

He went to meet with Elisha, and Elisha didn’t even come himself – he sent someone else. And, instead of calling down impressive powers from above, he simply gave his co-worker the message to tell the military commander to take of his clothes and jump in the river – seven times.

I would have loved to have seen Naaman’s face – because I love his verbal reaction: I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?

For Namaan there would be no 400 count Egyptian cotton sheets, gourmet meal, or even new experimental treatments. He was told to go jump in the creek.

A wise (and brave) underling of Namaan’s confronted him though: Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?

So, he casts off his clothes, jumps in the creek, and voila: he’s healed.

He is thrilled – amazed – and thankful to God for his health. He says: Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.

This is a story about pride and status. And the message is pretty clear: God doesn’t care how ‘important’ or how ‘powerful’ you are. And, God isn’t all that interested in seeing your ego get boosted.

Yeah, God could have called in some heavy duty pyrotechnics to heal Namaan. Lightning, earthquakes, legions of angels singing in unison “ah-AHHH!” But, who would that serve? It would make Namaan look important and powerful, so important and powerful that God would pull out the heavy-duty equipment for him.

But, making Namaan feel and look important and powerful wasn’t in God’s plan. He healed him, simply and totally, which showed Namaan and everyone present that God was great, and there was no God except God.

Now, that was God’s point.

And so, this is also a story about God working in the ordinary. Don’t get me wrong, God does do extraordinary things, and from time to time God lets loose on some incredibly impressive pyrotechnics (check out the books of Daniel, Habakkuk or Revelation to find some examples). But, where God works regularly, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear, is in the everyday ordinary experiences of life.

(It’s no mistake that Elisha’s predecessor had a profound experience of God: not in the fire, earthquake, or wind, but in the sound of sheer silence.)

The healing of leprosy in the Gospel lesson today is just as lovely, just as miraculous, and just as ordinary – Jesus touched him and he was healed.

The touching is a big deal though, in its own right. In those days you didn’t touch lepers – and that wasn’t just a social norm, it was a religious law. The Book of Leviticus makes it very clear that lepers were to live outside the boundaries of the town or city so that they weren’t around anyone – and no one was to touch them: that was God’s law. Obviously that law sprang out of a fear of contracting and spreading skin diseases, but it was law nonetheless.

A few years ago when I was in Spain we came across a medieval monastery. The only detail I remember about the monastery was a stone porch with a high arched, vaulted ceiling. It was high and vaulted for a reason: the engineers were such geniuses that they knew if they constructed it in just the right way, a person could stick their face in one corner and whisper, and their voice would acoustically travel to the other side of the room to another person with their face stuck in the opposite corner. It was made that way so that a priest could stand in one corner of the porch and hear the whispered confession of a leper in the other corner – and never come closer than 20 feet to them!

Jesus took considerable risk touching the leper. I suppose he could have contracted the disease himself, though being the Son of God I bet he knew he was pretty safe from this. He could have definitely gotten in huge trouble with the religious leaders of his day – something that never really phased him. But, most of all, he could have repelled people away from him who would otherwise listen to him or follow him – people who wouldn’t want to catch something.

But, none of that mattered. There was someone who needed healing. There was an opportunity to show everyone how great God was. And he touched him.

So, this story and the one of Namaan – two stories about the healing of lepers – are indeed stories about pride and status, God working in the ordinary, and God healing the sick.

But, they are also stories which point to one incredible end: God is a healer, and we need healed. Both stories are told so that it is obvious that we’re supposed to put ourselves in the leper’s shoes. As humans we too often get overcome with pride – we obsess about status – and we desperately need Jesus to touch our lives to make us whole.

Maybe this week, or this month, or this year we’re physically sick, and in need of physical healing. Maybe we’re overcome by the trials of life, and need to see that our God is a God of hope. Maybe we’re sin-sick and need to turn back to God, so that we might see the grace and mercy of God.

Just know that we’re never too sick, too overcome, too bad, or too far-gone – Jesus is there, and he will touch us. We may not get the Egyptian-cotton-sheet- treatment, but we’re in good hands – indeed, holy hands.