Friend of Lepers...like me

My daughter recently returned from a wonderful mission trip to the Dominican Republic. She came home moved and motivated by the incredible people she met and ministered to there--remarkable folks who have nothing the world deems important and yet possess all that the world desperately longs for--joy, contentment, peace, purpose. How true it is that we can never out give God, for, as is almost always the case, though she went to serve and bless, she was the one who was ministered to and blessed and encouraged. I love looking at her pictures and glimpsing faces so full of unmitigated joy and wonder even while surrounded by so few material possessions. Such smiles! As my daughter commented, "You've never seen such joy, such gratitude. They hugged us and celebrated and rejoiced over this crummy little playground we built. They have so little and yet they are so happy. I've never had so much fun. I want to go back right now!"

But my daughter shared about one experience that has haunted me--in a good way, I suppose. The last day they were in the Dominican Republic, they went to a leprosy colony. Apparently because of modern drugs used to treat this dread disease, their leprosy is no longer contagious. Nonetheless, these dear men and women have been shunned, isolated, and abandoned by their family and friends. Their families never come to visit and, in fact, do all they can to ensure no further contact of any kind with these poor victims of leprosy.

I simply cannot imagine what it would be feel like to be so rejected and despised--not permitted any kind of normal, everyday activities that we take completely for granted. No grocery stores or movies or concerts or church services or family celebrations, or hospitals or travel of any kind. And surely the most terrible of all, the lack of human touch. Denied for a lifetime the joyful hug of a child, the kiss of a sibling, the hand clasp of a friend, the high five of a teammate, the sympathetic embrace in the midst of sorrow.

My daughter's mission group had been told that this disease was not contagious, so they freely hugged and touched and held these ones dear to the heart of the Savior. And she said these leprosy patients were so grateful, so joyful at their touch. O Lord Jesus, even pondering this, I feel such shame at all the good, all the love, all the grace I might show to the neediest and least of Your children and yet fail to do so out of busyness or preoccupation or sheer selfishness. Forgive me Lord.

As my daughter spoke, I couldn't help but think of the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe who took the time to touch such a lowly leper. The lepers of Jesus' time were forced to live in isolated communities and if they came anywhere near "healthy normal" humans, had to constantly shout out "Unclean! Unclean! Unclean!" I wonder, had this leper been shouting "Unclean!" when he heard of One who healed and loved even the least of these? In spite of all he'd suffered, did some faint hope start to arise in the recesses of his heart? Surely not, he thought, but then, could it be, maybe, just maybe, perhaps?...

And so, trembling, afraid, unworthy, he crept to the edges of the crowd and dared, finally, to fall to his knees before Jesus, and begging, pleading in a soft, uncertain voice, "If you will, you can make me clean." (Mark 1:40) He knows Jesus can; but the question is, will He? Surely this is simply too much to demand of the Savior--too much uncleanness, too much disfigurement, too much ugliness, too much risk.

Is there a limit to Jesus' love? A boundary to His grace? Let the earth resound with His answer:

"Moved with pity, He stretched out His hand and touched him and said to him, 'I will; be clean.' And immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean." (Mk 1:41-42)

"I will; be clean" He says to the vilest murderer, the malicious gossiper, the prideful hypocrite, the hopeless alcoholic, the compulsive liar, the shallow materialist... and to selfish, unkind, unloving, undeserving you and me.

And He didn't just heal, He touched. He could have just healed the leper with a word, you know, but He didn't. Because He knows all things, all hearts, even the deepest and most desperate needs and longings. Holiness touches the untouchable. Pristine perfection embraces the vile and disgusting and hideous. And He makes all things new and clean and whole.

For you see, I am that leper. I am the one who should be walking down the street, shouting "Unclean! Unclean!" Unclean in my disobedience, my impatience, my self-absorption, my worrying and criticizing, my ingratitude, my callousness towards the needy. But incredibly, when we run to the Savior in our leprous rags of sin and ask for His healing, He embraces us with arms stretched taunt on the cross and says "I will; be clean." And He touches us with His grace and washes us in His blood and loves us in His Word and then bids us to go forth and love as He has loved, forgive as He has forgiven, and touch as He has touched. To the least. To the lowly. To the leper.

I just have to quote a few of the words to a song I have just heard that is as powerful as any to which I've ever listened: "Jesus, Friend of Sinners."

Jesus, friend of sinners, we have strayed so far away

We cut down people in Your name, but the sword was never ours to swing

Jesus, friend of sinners, the truth's become so hard to see

The world is on their way to You but they're tripping over me

Always looking around but never looking up I'm so double minded

A plank eyed saint with dirty hands and a heart divided

Oh, Jesus, friend of sinners

Open our eyes to the world at the end of our pointing fingers

Let our hearts be led by mercy

Help us reach with open hearts and open doors

Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what break Yours

You love every lost cause; You reach for the outcast

For the leper and the lame; they're the reason that You came

Lord I was that lost cause and I was the outcast

But You died for sinners just like me, a grateful leper at Your feet

Oh Jesus, friend of sinners

Open our eyes to the world at the end of our pointing fingers

Let our hearts be led by mercy

Help us to reach with open hearts and open doors

Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours

And I was the lost cause and I was the outcast

You died for sinners just like me, a grateful leper at Your feet.

So I kneel in gratitude at the foot of the cross. A leper, a sinner, an outcast... but a friend of Jesus, redeemed by the blood of the Lamb, restored by the Merciful, Gracious Savior. How can I not be filled with joy and overflowing with thanksgiving? How can I not be merciful and compassionate and loving and forgiving to others when I have been forgiven of so infinitely much more? Help me Jesus, Friend of Sinners, Healer and Toucher of lepers and losers--such as me--to obey and serve and love and forgive with joyful abandon... all for Your glory, all by Your grace. Thank You for loving lost causes, like the leper and like me, and for leading us to abundant, eternal Life. To Jesus, forever faithful Friend of sinners--and our Friend, our Redeemer, our Savior--be all the glory.