This is When We Become Followers of Jesus.
Epiphany 6B
Mark 1:40-45
2/15/2009
Jim Melnyk
The first chapter of Mark's Gospel is only forty-five verses long – just forty-five verses. And by the time we get to the last verse we've already been introduced to Jesus as the Christ of God – in fact as the Son of God. We've met John the Baptizer preaching in the wilderness. We've witnessed the baptism of Jesus, his temptation in the wilderness, and the very beginning of his mission to proclaim the good news of God, “This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is close at hand! Repent, and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15, translation by Megan McKenna, On Your Mark: Reading Mark in the Shadow of the Cross, Orbis Books, 2006, p. 24).

On top of all that, we've already witnessed Jesus call his first four disciples, cast out an unclean spirit, heal Simon's mother-in-law along with a whole host of others, and take a preaching tour of Galilee. The man has been busy! The people have been impressed. People were searching for him all over (1:37). They were amazed at the authority of his preaching and his fame was spreading throughout the region (1:27-28)! Jesus has all the makings of a bonafide celebrity. In fact, he's looking every inch the potential Messiah some folks are making him out to be. Until the last five verses of the chapter. Until the last story which we just heard this morning. Until a leper pops up out of nowhere and in one simple, eight-word statement sets Jesus on a path of conflict with the powers and authorities of his day. “If you choose,” declares the leper, “if you choose, you can make me clean.” You can make me clean.

The leper knows better. He's supposed to tear his clothes and shout out a warning to anyone who might accidentally – or intentionally – come close enough to touch him. He is ritually unclean. He is outside the community through no fault of his own. He is viewed as dangerous – as someone to be feared – as someone whose touch can put their relationship with the Holy One at risk. And Jesus knows better, too. He is obviously a learned Jew. Jesus knows his scriptures. Jesus knows the Torah. Jesus knows to keep his distance – hands off, Jesus! You can look – you can even have a conversation from a distance – but uh-uh-uh – mustn't touch!

This whole five-verse-long event – an event that seems to take only a few moments in time – breaks all the laws and all the customs dealing with lepers. Talk about using up all your good will – all your political capital – in one fell swoop!

Author Megan McKenna writes, “Jesus' response [to the leper], which is staggering in its tenderness, goes against everything in his culture, society, and religion” (p. 35). Jesus' reaction to the leper – to the one who is shunned by both society and faith community – is visceral – his reaction takes place at the gut level. Some translations of the Gospel, like our New Revised Standard Version, say that Jesus is moved with pity. Other translations say he is moved with anger. And while some translations say that Jesus touched the man, other translations say that he embraced him (p. 35)! He wrapped his arms around the man who tradition – who the law – said nobody could even accidentally brush up against without becoming tainted – without becoming unclean themselves. He wrapped his arms – he wrapped his arms around him….

The underlying sense of the story is that Jesus' response to the leper is driven by his deep compassion for a fellow human being thrown on the trash heap by the very people who proclaim the love of God. McKenna points out that even the word “pity” has many meanings. “It is,” she writes, “the desire to vomit at the suffering you see, and [it is] the anger that propels you literally into giving birth to something new in response to such suffering” (p. 35).

Pity, anger and compassion are realities we feel in our guts – they are feelings that eat at us until we are willing to act. I suspect that had Jesus turned away from this poor wretched being – had Jesus walked away ignoring the man's calls – I suspect the pity – the anger – the compassion – that he felt would have eaten away at his guts until he could stand it no more. I suspect had he not acted as he did – when he did – he would have tossed and turned through the night and his spirit would have eventually driven him to find the man and offer his healing touch. Have you ever felt so driven? Have you ever felt so compelled? Have you ever felt the compassion of God pressing down upon you and all but forcing you to act?

Jesus feels pity for the outcast, and Jesus' compassion causes him to act. And his actions set him against the powers-that-be. But I don't think Jesus is clueless here. It seems he's more than aware that his actions will shock not only his followers, but also the larger crowds and the political and religious leaders who most assuredly had noticed his rising star by now. His new disciples are probably wondering to themselves, “What have we gotten ourselves into?” The crowds are wondering, “How can he get away with this? Perhaps we should keep our distance from him!” The leaders are beginning to suspect they have trouble on their hands. And Jesus seems to realize “there will be increasing resistance to what he does by touching and healing and bringing hope by his words and pity” (p. 35). Oh, this is so much more than a healing story, my friends. This is Jesus standing against power! This is Jesus standing alongside the weak and disenfranchised of the world! This is Jesus, calling us to do the same!

In fact, because the man goes about the region proclaiming Jesus' healing touch freely, and because he goes about spreading the word, Jesus can no longer go into town openly – he is compelled to stay out in the country – perhaps due in part to the crowds – but perhaps also because many would have seen him as unclean and even a bit dangerous after his encounter with the leper. One chapter into Mark's Gospel and we have our story line set for us. Jesus is the Christ of God – the very Son of God – who comes proclaiming the reign of God unfolding in the midst of the people – who heals the sick, casts out demons – whose compassion is for all God's people, not just the ritually acceptable – and he will from this point forward be in conflict with the status quo – with the powers that use their faith in God to separate and exclude rather than welcome and embrace.

And it is an amazing thing to hear this reading on this particular Sunday – on a Sunday when we've all opened our morning paper to read about the Roman Catholic dioceses of Raleigh and Charlotte calling for the enforced celibacy of Christians who are gay or lesbian – calling for an amendment to constitutionalize religious bigotry against gay and lesbian brothers and sisters. Yet on the same Sunday, our chapter of the North Carolina Religious Coalition for Marriage Equality is hosting our Community Time – celebrating open and loving hearts and working for equal rights for all God's people! I don't think it takes a whole lot of thinking to see which group's theology sounds like the teachings of Jesus in today's gospel. Not a lot of need to wrestle with that comparison at all!

Jesus is at this point, in a very real way, already separated from much of the community because of his deep compassion and his pity for his fellow human beings. He doesn't follow all the rules – he doesn't do things the right way. His compassion and pity are the marks of the reign of God – care and concern for the least of God's people – and his compassion and pity are meant to be the marks of the new community of his followers – both then and now. In essence, “by the end of the first chapter [of Mark's Gospel] we are summoned to obey and imitate Christ and to have pity on those who suffer because of us” – because of humanity's inhumanity to itself. “From this point on [in Mark's Gospel], the struggle between the powers of God and the powers of society and religious authorities will mount in force, and the followers of Jesus” – both then and today – will be commanded to choose their way” (p. 37).

This is when we begin to be followers of Jesus: When we open ourselves to the pity – when we open ourselves to the anger – when we open ourselves to the compassion of the One who broke the bands of exclusion, when we open ourselves to the One who shattered the bonds of fear, when we open ourselves to the One who smashed the chains of injustice, in order to embrace the un-embraceable – in order to show love to the un-loveable – and in order to honor the worthiness of every human being. Amen.

©2009 Jim Melnyk