Touching

Last night I was at a young adult Bible study, talking about Jesus and his interaction with a leper. Here's a man; an outcast, ostracized from society due to his wretched condition, a man who had little contact with his loved ones, in fact, the only people lepers talked with were really other lepers. So what does Jesus do. He doesn't just heal him, no, he goes beyond that, way beyond that.

He loves him.

He extends his hands and touches him (Mark 1:41) and feels compassion for the man. The Greek word is splagchnizomai literally means 'to have one's intestine's wrung / twisted'. You see, ancient anatomy concluded that the center of one's empathetic feelings was in their intestines and lower organs. It makes sense, after all, whenever we feel utter sorrow or sympathy for someone a heavy weight seems to press upon our chest, jerking our insides around (a broken heart, so to say.)

Jesus didn't just heal as a publicity stunt. He didn't visit the sick, the lame, the depressed and the isolated merely to satisfy some superiority complex or to prove something to anyone. If anything, Christ did not come to make himself something exquisite or admirable; He came to make himself nothing, taking on not simply the appearance but the form of a slave (Philippians 2:6-9). Not only that, he touches the man. Jesus touches him. Have you ever just needed to be touched? To be hugged, to have your back scratched or your hand held? To have your arm squeezed or your cheek kissed? For years this leper had been avoided, isolated, and pushed to the very outskirts of society. To be touched and to desire to be touched is to be human. Anyone doctor or nurse can prescribe pills, treatments, or surgeries for aches, pains, and illnesses. But in the midst of the medical miracles of our current age, we've ignored what it really means to heal, to cleanse, to care with genuine sincerity.

We need to touch people. We need to be wrung with compassion. We need to love them.

I've been here in Hilton Head eight weeks and it's been an amazing 8 weeks. To summarize it all with a list of pragmatic and concrete activities I've participated would be looking past what I was supposed to be learning; how to touch, how to love. What is love?

-Love is a 48 year old man driving 9 hours to labor his entire weekend around a run down house fixing toilets and sinks and other odds and ends, and then driving 9 hours back...for his ex-wife.

-Love is a woman known for her quick-temper and indignant attitude who, in the midst of caring for her 94 year old bed-ridden mother for the last two years, has discovered a patience and Christ-like heart that she had been searching for the last 30 years.

-Love is a college graduate who, instead of teaching in a cushy public or Christian high school here, takes a drastic pay cut in order to spend the year in Jordan teaching missionary kids, spending 8 months away from her family, friends, and loved ones...and she leaves again Monday for another year!

-Love is a community who, in the death of one of their patriarchs, comes together to love a family grieving.

-Love is man who teaches financial security to people in a hurting economy...and not only that practices what he preaches; trading utter wealth in order to better offer what has been given to him back to his Lord and Savior.

What does our society need? It needs touchers. It needs lovers. We can always find another doctor, another chef, another airline pilot, novelist, or musical stand-out (much less another pastor!). It needs professional, full-time lovers who go the extra mile through thick and thin, storm and sleet, tragedy and lack of comfort, in order to be Jesus to those who need him.

The truth is this; Our hearts are dried-up yards covered in crab grass and dandelions well past decay. We are soiled in filth and decorated in the rusted toys and cracked ornaments of our yesteryears. We are dry, decrepit, lifeless. We have histories, we have wretched pasts, we have unkempt bushes and overgrown trees. We are in a terrible state and in no way are the gardens of paradise our Creator has intended us to be. But rain comes and the sun rises as the clouds roll away; our Heavenly Father nourishes us to be fertile and green, lush and crisp, the smell of violets and orchids floating across our multitude of dark green blades. The question is this; have we opened our newly cleansed and redeemed hearts for the lonesome children of this world to have sanctuary for play or have we locked the gate and placed our "Do Not Walk On The Grass" signs across the perimeter to protect our precious resource? Are we keeping up our gardens for mere appearance or will we, dare I say it, allow our lawns to be ravaged by any heavy soul who dares to come in? Do we dare allow our gates to be open? Do we dare risk loving only to watch our gardens becomes battlefields of utter suffering and distruction? Is not a garden meant to be enjoyed, a flower to be smelled, and patches of cool grass to be lain upon?

Let others in. Let others rest in your love, regardless of the danger they may bring with them.

A garden is meant to be enjoyed. A heart is meant to be used and used frequently.

Touch someone unlovable today, for we may be the ones who are hard to love.

God loves us. How can we not be joyful?