Day 14: Jesus Didn’t Social Distance

He went into all of Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons. 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 1:39–42, emphasis mine

The short story above is from Mark’s Gospel account, and the “moved with compassion” part can also be translated as “moved with pity” or “felt sorry for the man.” This phrase, however your Bible translation renders it, comes from one word in the original Greek text: splangnitzomai. Sounds like a pasta, no? Well, that pasta-sounding word comes from somewhere too, namely, the root word splanchnon, which sounds like an organ, right? Indeed! This is where we get the English word spleen from—and it was also used in ancient texts when referring to the bowels or innards or a person. Innards. What a word.

Okay, so what’s the point of this Greek vocabulary lesson that I’m sure you woke up today dying to have? Mark’s big point is that the compassion Jesus extended to the leper came from His guts. From the innermost core of Jesus Christ. In other words, when He encountered this disfigured man outside the city gates, Jesus didn’t think to himself, “Wowzers, that’s one nasty case of leprosy. Poor guy better get himself to a good dermatologist!” Our Savior didn’t simply toss a little superficial concern in the leper’s general direction. “I’ll pray for you, man!” No. Jesus experienced deep, visceral, compassion for him.

The kind of gut-level kindness we observe here in Jesus is especially significant when you consider how leprosy was viewed in the first century. Not only was it a devastating, potentially fatal disease (and highly contagious), it also poisoned its carriers with crippling social stigma. In fact, according to Old Testament law, lepers had to walk around in ripped clothes and unkempt hair yelling, “Unclean, unclean!” whenever they were in public places. Why? So no one would approach them and possibly become contaminated themselves (Lev. 13:45). They were also commanded to live alone. That 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 the touch—or maybe even the eye contact—of another human being in years.

In light of his hideous deformities and the stigmatization that came with being ceremonially unclean, it would’ve made sense for Jesus to keep His distance. To just wave His hand and heal the guy without any physical contact. Instead, our tenderhearted Savior reaches out and touches the man before healing his diseased body. The guy isn’t healed yet, and Jesus intentionally makes physical contact. His gesture implies, “I won’t just love you on the other side of this physical ailment, once you’re clean and whole again. I love you now, right in the middle of it. Right in the place where you feel unseen or unloved or dirty. You matter to me.” He was not only interested in healing the man physically, but relationally too—bringing him from isolation to community, from shame to security.

This miracle illustrates that the heart of God is moved by the wounds of humanity. Our ache accelerates His compassion. He intentionally reaches out to restore us when we find ourselves filthy and ashamed before him. May we always trust God’s gut.

• Do you tend to try to “clean yourself up” before approaching Jesus? Or are you comfortable leaning into His love when you’re still “dirty” feeling disfigured or ashamed?
• How does it feel to know that Jesus intentionally reaches toward you, even when you’re still in the middle of your wounds?
• Who in your life is a social outcast? Following in Jesus’ example, how might you draw near to them and love them right in the middle of their difficulty or dysfunction?