Day 38: Jesus Doesn’t Distance Himself From Our Distress
Day 38
JESUS DOESN’T DISTANCE HIMSELF FROM OUR DISTRESS
Then a man with leprosy came to him and, on his knees, begged him, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” Moved with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched him. “I am willing,” he told him. “Be made clean.” Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. MARK 1:40–42, EMPHASIS MINE
TWO YEARS AGO, I was rushed to the hospital with a life-threatening case of COVID that had eviscerated my lungs and wreaked havoc on the rest of my respiratory and immune systems. I’m typically a tough cookie when it comes to sickness or physical pain and don’t like to complain or inconvenience others by asking for Gatorade or saltines, much less an intravenous drip. I’d much rather take a couple of Tylenol and retreat to my bedroom for a day or two like a prideful old bear in brief hibernation. But when I found myself barely able to breathe after a couple days of trying to “kick” the Delta variant of COVID-19 (which I didn’t yet know I had) with rest and orange juice, I submitted to a hospital stay because I didn’t really have a choice.
I was in and out of consciousness the first forty-eight hours, so it took a moment to get my bearings when a new night nurse announced he was there to check my oxygen levels. I didn’t respond right away, partly because I barely had enough breath to speak, but mostly because he was wearing what looked to be an oversized bee-keeping ensemble, complete with a squarish helmet, so I thought I might be hallucinating from the meds or lack of oxygen! All the other nurses who’d bravely and compassionately taken care of me up to that point had worn protective gowns, gloves, and face shields, but none had worn homemade hazmat suits. Therefore, it took me a few flabbergasted seconds to recognize that the distorted voice coming through his glass face panel belonged to a real person who was only walking like a mummy because of the restrictive nature of the creative gear he’d chosen to barricade himself behind to keep from catching that awful and oh-so-contagious virus.
When it hit me that it was indeed a real person asking me, “Is there anything else I can do for you?” I emphatically shook my head from side to side and mouthed “No, thank you!” because I was afraid he might accidentally press the wrong button with his huge, padded gloves and turn off the machine that was steadily pumping air into my deflated lungs. Deep loneliness settled in as I watched the door close silently behind him, because I knew I had at least four more hours of gasping alone in the dark before I’d have the chance to engage with another human being. And while I didn’t blame him at all for sealing himself off, I could only hope the morning nurse would be willing to touch me and maybe share a story or two.
Leprosy is not only the oldest disease in biblical history, it’s considered to be one of the most contagious. The precious image-bearers who had the misfortune of catching leprosy faced crippling social stigma. According to Levitical law, they had to walk around in ripped clothes and unkempt hair, yelling, “Unclean, unclean!” whenever they were in public places so no one would engage with them and become contaminated as a result31 (Lev. 13:45). They were also commanded to live alone. Which means this poor guy in Mark 1 was an utter pariah. He’d likely lost contact with his family, had no friends outside of the leper colony, and hadn’t experienced being touched by another person in years. No back rubs after lugging furniture upstairs, no hugs on his birthday, no gentle hand wiping his tears away when he broke down and cried.
In light of leprosy’s extremely transmittable nature, it would’ve made complete sense if Jesus had chosen to heal him without any physical contact. Instead, our tenderhearted Savior reaches out and touches the man before healing his disfigured body. And Mark qualifies that His touch was compassionate, which comes from the Greek root word splangnon, meaning entrails or vital organs. Therefore, the way Jesus touches this man no one else would dare to reveals that His response to his pain and loneliness came from His “gut.”32
Jesus doesn’t distance Himself from our distress, y’all. No matter how deep or repulsive our wounds, our Savior’s gut instinct is to draw near to them, reach out His tender hands, and heal.