Luke 17:11-19
He wanted to die. He wanted to live. He was doing neither. The camp was downwind of the city because the smell of rotting flesh permeated the surrounding area. The ghastly appearance of revoltingly disfigured bodies was commonplace. They lay in the streets, nameless and faceless all day and all night, week after week, waiting to die. Each one of the victims longed for the touch of another human being that would never come. The village was replete with pain but strangely devoid of weeping. Only the newcomers shed tears, for the others there were no more tears to cry. These men and women had become prisoners that had committed no crime. Joel had lived, no, existed, in this makeshift tent village outside the city walls for the last two years. Although not everyone here had contracted leprosy each man and woman here had some sort of skin or blood disease that made them untouchable (and I don’t mean in the sense that they were above the law—they were literally untouchable.) It was dangerous to one’s personal health to touch them, and if you did touch them you too would be declared “unclean” by the law and be forced to follow the prescribed detailed regulations (which included presenting yourself to the priest for examination and the sacrifice of a young dove or pigeon) in order to be declared clean. He hadn’t always been a leper. Now that’s all he was. In his life before the disease he was a city official. Most of his cohorts were hard hearted, greedy, and crooked. Joel wasn’t. He had a tender heart that often got him in trouble. Unmarried he was able to spend hours helping those less fortunate including the untouchables. He didn’t do it for recognition and no one recognized him. He never appeared in the LIFE section of the Samaritan Times-Herald as a courageous volunteer. Most of his deeds were done in secret and as such were unnoticed. Over the last year or so he had been drawn to the “city outside the city” by the quiet, but obvious pain of the lepers. He wanted to do something to show them that people still cared. So he began to visit the city downwind. He began to make friends with those who couldn’t believe that he would risk his own life. Then one morning he woke up and noticed a small white spot and white hairs on his arm. It was as he suspected…leprosy. Now, he was no longer called “Joel”, but “Leper.” Required by the Health Code and Law, Joel moved outside the city and shouted with the others “Unclean! Unclean!” when people approached so that no one would mistake him for a clean man and contract this horrible flesh eating disease. The disease was not only eating away at his flesh it was eating away at his soul. He tried to remain hopeful but smell and pain were constant reminders of his imminent death. He wanted to die. He wanted to live. He was doing neither. The ten of them had become friends not because of their common heritage (in fact, he was a Samaritan among Jews) but because of the disease there were no more racial divides. Strangely, disease breaks down those visible and invisible barriers to relationship. Outside the boundaries of the village they were all anonymous except for “Unclean!”, but inside the confines of the village each other was all they had. Theirs was a unique bond that transcended culture and ideas. If one of them was depressed the others would do their best to cheer him up. These ten stood out among the others because they held out hope for a cure. They didn’t know where it would come from or when it would come, but surely God would do something. Word of a traveling miracle worker had trickled into the leper colony over the last two days. One of the men’s brothers had heard a neighbor say that some Teacher had stopped at the town’s well and spoken to a Samaritan woman and a widely known prostitute. Supposedly the miracle-worker had not just spoken to her, (“Hey, how are you? How’s the water in at this well?” ), but spoke to her in a way that no man or woman had ever spoken to her, he spoke with her about things she had only sensed in her heart—things that until now she had been unable to verbalize. The teacher made strange claims about himself. He said that unlike the water in the well, the water he was offering would never run dry or grow stagnant. As strange as it sounded to the woman she understood what he meant, it was if she had had a veil lifted from her eyes and mind and she knew what he was talking about. The net of it was that she believed that this Teacher to be the Messiah and as a result of her story many other locals were beginning to believe as well. A Jewish Rabbi speaking to an unclean Samaritan woman--unheard of! They say he even has the power to bring physical healing. Although the lepers had heard stories of healers before, none had ever dared enter their quarantined village, and it didn’t matter, for in the end these ‘healers’ had turned out to be charlatans anyway. These frauds knew that if they had come into the “city outside the city” their inability to cure the dreadful skin diseases would be obvious to all and their cover/charade would be discovered. Was this man different? Did they dare hope? They did. The Ten decided that they would stand on the edge of their “city outside the city” and wait. Perhaps this man was different. Perhaps he was who he said he was. Although Joel didn’t completely understand the Messiah thing like his nine Jewish friends did, he was doing his best to get his head around the concept and what they spoke of did resonate with his heart and soul… They went out early in the morning before daybreak to begin their vigil. They were determined not to miss their opportunity, so they took their worn mats and lay as close to the boundary as they were allowed. They didn’t have to wait long. Just after the sun broke over the hilltops they saw him coming with his entourage out of the mountains. They were laughing and singing as they neared the men, sounds that echoed in stark contrast to the quiet sorrow that lay behind The Ten. “Jesus! Master! Have mercy on us!” the Ten shouted as with one voice. He didn’t glare at them condescendingly. He didn’t rebuke them for interrupting their song. His followers didn’t seem annoyed by their early morning pleading. He didn’t furrow his brow and take on a different persona. He just kept smiling and walked right up to the Ten without hesitation and absolutely no fear. This man was different, Joel thought to himself. He didn’t ask for an explanation. He didn’t wait for them to beg him, worship him, or pay him. He was behaving just as the rumor the well woman had said; and somehow it was as if he was looking into them. Then with a sense of tremendous joy and peace he told them to go and show themselves to the priest (which was the first step in being declared clean/whole/well). Although nothing had changed externally in Joel or the other nine they were compelled to do as he had instructed, so they picked up their mats and started toward the temple. Astonishingly, about 100 meters from where they encountered the miracle worker their skin disease began to disappear right before their eyes. Joel could hardly believe his eyes. The pigment was returning to his arms, the boils vanished, his physical strength was returning. The other nine began running. Joel stopped. He turned around to see Jesus and twelve other pairs of eyes watching him with smiles on their faces and their arms stretched to the sky in jubilation. There was more going on here than anyone, including Joel, could see or comprehend. On a purely physical level he had just been healed of one of the most dreadful diseases of the day, which Jesus was using to teach his disciples on a spiritual level to prove that he had dominion over all things; and on another level the Teacher was using this teachable moment to show his disciples their future. After Jesus had dismissed the Ten he had instructed his disciples to watch and they would see. They would see how the world would treat him; they would see how the world would treat them. Now, Joel began to run like he hadn’t run in two years, but he did not run with the others. He ran back—back to Jesus and the group. He ran back uninhibited, free, healthy, and full of praise for God. He didn’t care what anyone else thought at that moment; he could tell by the look on the disciples faces that they were enjoying watching him run and leap for joy. They were laughing out loud, but not laughing at him like he was a maniac who had lost his mind, but laughing out of pure joy at what they were watching. Joel would never know that the group had just come down from a time of prayer for his village and that they had prayed specifically for something like this to happen. Joel threw himself at Jesus’ feet, an unmistakable act of worship, and wept with joy. What an incredible scene. Jesus reached down and picked Joel up by the hand. It was the first time anyone had touched him in two years. The tenderness of the moment was overwhelming. “On your way, now!” Jesus exhorted, “to the priest so that he can declare you clean! Your faith has made you whole!” Joel turned back toward the temple and as he did a young dove startled him as it fluttered away.
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