Around a decade ago I went to serve in St. Mary’s, Jamaica with American-Caribbean Experience (known as ACE for short). This was a Christian ministry that used business as a driver for economic uplift in one of the poorest parishes in the country. They owned a seaside hotel that housed the mission groups but that also was a place for vacationers. They had a roadside jerk chicken shack run by a guy called MacGyver. Great chicken. They built community connections, which allowed them to know their neighbors well.
Jamaica used to be a British colony, which meant the royals would come from time to time on tours. They would also bring some charity with them on those tours. In the case of St. Mary’s parish, Queen Elizabeth funded a mountainside infirmary. It housed the elderly, the crippled, and people with special needs. All these folks lived in two large dormitories — basically a barracks with cots spaced every five feet, a nightstand, and a rudimentary bathroom at the end of each one.
Over the years the infirmary fell into neglect. The Jamaicans got their independence, but the government did not have enough funding to keep places like this up. So, these folks continued to exist in the mountains with the most basic meals and care. By the time ACE encountered them, they desperately needed partners to help. So, ACE began bringing soup to feed them twice a week. We’d carry these small cups of soup to all the folks and do our best to talk to them and play games with them — anything to connect person to person.
As I said, this infirmary was on a mountain, but it was only a few short miles from the Caribbean Sea. Yet, many of the residents had never been to the beach. So, ACE began working with the infirmary to bring folks down to it. It took a ton of effort. It took buses. It took carrying folks who couldn’t walk. It took changes of clothes and diapers. It took vulnerability and required a level of intimacy that was challenging for most of us.
Person by person, we’d carry folks to the shore and then sit with them. If there were waves, we’d have to sit behind them to hold them up because they weren’t strong enough to stay upright. A lot of them had sores because they spent their days on their cots with very little care. So, they asked us to take small handfuls of wet sand and rub it on their legs and arms. The sand would exfoliate their dry skin. It was like a spa day on the beach.
Even as I think back to that time, I can still feel myself on the seashore. There is something holy about healing touch. There is a shared humanity, one where so many of the things that might have made us different faded away.
There is an intimate connection between body and spirit. Both can be broken. Both can experience healing. Both often need healing. That is part of the work of the church because we see clearly that healing is very much a part of Jesus’ ministry. Healing is a demonstration of what God in Christ is doing. It not only brings wholeness to a person, but it also leads to an invitation to go deeper with Jesus.
Today, I’d like us to consider these two healing stories from Luke. Interestingly, both show up in what we call the synoptic gospels. That is, Matthew, Mark, and Luke are called synoptics because these authors tell the story of Jesus with similar eyes. That these stories are shared by all three gives us a sense that this kind of thing was central to the work of Jesus.
Let’s take a look at both stories. We’ll begin with Jesus healing the person with the skin disease. One day Jesus was walking through a city, when a man covered in sores threw himself at Jesus’ feet. The first thing we need to note is that the community’s way of promoting health was keeping diseased people separate. They weren’t supposed to come close to others, which was a basic but effective way of limiting the spread of obvious disease. The prevailing rule for this is found in Leviticus 13:45-46, “The person who has the defiling disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled, and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.”
This law existed to make it obvious that the disease the person was carrying was a threat to others. But you can imagine how alienating it would be to have such a disease. You lost community. You were othered. You were an outsider.
In this story, this man breaks the rules, flinging himself at Jesus, begging him for help. “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean,” he says. He knows there is help for him, if only God is willing. Without hesitation, Jesus touches him. Just pause with me and think of that action. Kneeling before Jesus is a man who is sick. Luke says that this man is covered with the disease. It’s not just a sore here or there. It’s everywhere.
Jesus does the unthinkable. He touches him. Jesus has made himself ritually unclean by this touch. He’s transgressed a social norm to restore this hurting human. Then, Jesus speaks what his actions have already shown to be true — he is willing to make the man clean.
This man was an outcast. He had what was considered a “social disease,” so his only community were others struck with a similar condition. Usually these diseases were considered incurable, yet he had the audacity to believe that God could do the impossible for him.
From time to time, I’ve been reminding us that following Jesus — that is, discipleship — can be defined by three B-words: believing, belonging, and becoming. This healing story captures all three. This man believed that Jesus could make him whole. Healing restored this man to his community, so he is becoming more than he was before he encountered Jesus. But even more, Jesus has given him a sense of belonging that he previously lacked. His healing is physical but it is also social. He was outcast; now he’s restored. It’s quite a beautiful thing to consider.
The second story is equally beautiful and groundbreaking…or should I say roof-opening? Dad joke. Here we have a story of a person whose body is broken. He cannot move without the help of friends. But! He clearly has friends — friends who are willing to do anything to bring healing. The stories of Jesus are circulating wildly. He happens to be in their town, so his buddies decide this is their shot. They put their friend on a mat, carry him through town, find the house where Jesus is teaching, and realize that there’s no way they’re getting in. So they improvise.
Palestinian houses often had an exterior staircase leading to the roof. In these tightly packed towns, they would use their rooftops as a place for fresh air, for drying laundry, for eating, and for praying. These friends used the architecture as an opportunity to help. They get on the roof and dig through it. Could you imagine being inside the house at that time? It’s cramped. It’s pretty dim, lit only by light through the windows and some candles. All of a sudden, you hear scratching above you, and you start to see light. Then the light is obscured by a mattress being slowly lowered through the ceiling. The commitment of these friends is remarkable! Part of this man’s healing is a story of his community caring enough to help it happen.
Of course, this story is complex. Does sin have anything to do with this man’s condition? (The answer is no, of course, but that hasn’t stopped humans from making that link. As a child of the ‘80s and ‘90s, I very much remember that connection being made when it came to HIV/AIDS.) Rather, Jesus is showing the crowds and religious folks that he’s more than a healer. He’s the Son of God. He’s able to forgive sins, and he puts that on display in restoring this man.
Jesus is able to heal. He is also able to forgive.
The healing and forgiving ministry of Jesus is something the church has carried down through the ages. At its best, we have seen followers of Jesus bring healing and wholeness into communities. We do this through healthcare. Just think of how many hospital systems have their roots in Christianity. We have Trinity Health right here in Grand Haven as an example. Think of how Christians have sought to bring wholeness to mental health. This church joined with others to start Tri-Cities Ministries, which is now Mosaic Counseling. We do this through feeding and housing ministries like Muskegon Rescue Mission and Love in Action. The church continues its healing ministry in varied ways today.
Jesus begins his ministry with these words, “Change your life. God’s kingdom is here.” Through the ages, Christians have, at their best, done just that. They’ve fed the hungry, clothed the naked, brought healing balm to the sick, and visited the prisoner. In doing these things, we are merely walking in the footsteps of Jesus, living our lives as though he were living our lives right now. We do it imperfectly, but we do it all the same.
So, I ask you: How are you a healing presence? You don’t have to be in healthcare or be a counselor to be a healer. Do you come alongside a friend who is grieving loss? Have you seen a need in your community and sought to help? Have you been the one who forgives first in a hard situation?
We are the church, and individually we are members of the church. Each of us can be a healer. No, we’re not Jesus, but by his Spirit, we are equipped to bring healing into our homes, community, nation, and world right now.
