Change of Plans
Mark 1:40-45
Today’s Gospel story appears to be one of those “happily ever after” sort of tales, but if we read closely, we’ll notice some odd details indicating that something else is going on here. There’s the odd detail of Jesus trying to get the healed leper to keep quiet. Why doesn’t he want anyone to know?
There’s the odd detail of the leper being healed. Sometimes you get the feeling that Bible times must have been heavily populated by lepers—they seem to show up everywhere. This is the first leper Jesus has encountered, but his appearance seems significant. Up until now Jesus has been healing people brought to him by their friends and relatives. Last week we saw him heal Peter’s mother-in-law. But no one brings this man to be healed. The law itself dictates that as a leper this man must leave his home. He cannot live in his town—there’s too much fear of contagion. So he lives in the country as a beggar. There’s nothing else he can do.
Finally, there’s the odd detail of Jesus’ mood. We don’t usually hear of a motive for Jesus’ healings, but this time there is. We hear that Jesus is moved with pity, which makes sense, although some manuscripts of the Gospel claim that another emotion was his motive, and that emotion was anger. As I envision this parable, I wonder if actually both are correct. Pity makes sense, but Jesus also has reason to be angry. After all, this leper is the victim of a system that denies him compassion and community just when he needs them most. But it’s also possible that Jesus is angry for a more human, less-righteous reason.
You see, Jesus had a plan. He explained it to his disciples in the story we read last week. He was going to go to all the towns and villages in the area, teaching and healing. This encounter with the leper will change all that. A healing like this will spin Jesus’ popularity all out of control—he’ll go viral, as we say. You can see that Jesus tries to stop this—he does sternly tell the guy to tell no one. But do you think Jesus really expected that to happen? Jesus is no fool. Does he really think that when this healed leper gets back home to his family and friends, he’s really not going to tell them what happened? The most life-changing experience ever, and he’s going to keep quiet?
Jesus knows what’s going to happen. If he heals the leper, plan A is toast. Jesus is going to literally trade places. The leper will go home, back to his village and family. Jesus won’t be able to go anywhere without being mobbed. He is now the one living in the lonely wilderness places. Jesus’ choice to heal comes at a cost. What Jesus is showing us, and pretty early in the story, is the cost of his way of compassion.
There’s something here we all know. If you’ve ever sat by the bed of a sick child, or you’ve been the one in the hospital waiting room waiting for the surgeon to come out and tell you it’s all ok; if you’ve waited for the phone call, or been left behind in the broken relationship, or watched as a friend or child just can’t give up the booze or the drugs—you know. Love, compassion—they aren’t for wimps. Love can break your heart. You have to be brave to care. What is true of our love for our nearest is also true of our compassion for strangers. That’s why we’re always trying to figure out why it’s “their” fault—they broke the law, they’re lazy, we have to take care of our own first—whatever it takes to avoid caring because we know. Compassion is a heavy burden.
Love has its cost. We all know it. We’ve all paid it. What we want to know is if God knows this, too.
Does God know the cost of love, or is God above all that? Isn’t God aloof, untouchable? God is love, we all know that, but isn’t God’s love different. After all, can’t God just force his will on his beloved? Can’t he just use rewards and punishments to get what he wants? If he wants his beloved to be obedient, or if he wants revenge on sinners in heaven, doesn’t God’s love get what God wants?
Too often this is the God we worship, but Jesus shows us a different side to the divine. This different perspective begins with this leper, met with compassion, and maybe a little anger. It continues as Jesus goes to Jerusalem Garden of Gethsemane
Let’s be clear here. Jesus doesn’t die for God’s benefit. God didn’t need some sacrifice; he doesn’t need to be somehow bribed by Jesus’ blood to show mercy. The mercy of the cross is seen in the revelation that here God knows what we know. God knows about the price of love.
But the story doesn’t end there. The cross is not the end. Jesus pays the price of love, and with it he buys redemption. God’s love for us revealed on the cross is the gateway to eternal life. Compassion is the price of eternal life. Life will win because love does win. That’s the good news—love’s victory. Out of death does comes life. That’s the victory we see—a victory of second chances, and pain redeemed, of new gifts and strengths arising from pain and difficulties. The hope of this redemption is what makes love worth the price.
Maybe that’s why Jesus tries to stop the healed leper from speaking. He is healed, yes, but he is not a disciple yet. He doesn’t know the whole story. So this would-be disciple runs amok, telling a story of magic and cheap miracles—all for the taking if you can just find Jesus. But we know the whole story. We are his disciples and we know the cost and the promise of that calling.
So what do we do? Some of us are in the midst of paying that price of love. We’re in there carrying the burden—loving someone who is sick, caring for someone who needs us. If you are in there, carrying the burden of love, then thank God. Thank God that you have the courage to be there because in that darkness you are the light. So thank God that you are there. We thank God that you are there, as a light shining in the darkness. I should caution you who carry the burden of love, that sometimes we don’t always carry the right burden. If this love is becoming an attempt at control; if anger or guilt is overwhelming; if the burden is just too heavy, get help. Death can com in so many shapes, let us be sure that it is indeed life we are serving.
For all of us, burdened or not, let’s ask the question—what has the Gospel cost us? The Christian faith is not simply about believing that Christ died for your sins, it is about following him on his way, the way of the cross which is the way of life.
So what is it costing you, this life of following Christ? We might list the prices we’ve paid—maybe we’re giving money away or doing something—but the real price of following Christ is always the same. We give up the self-centered life, a life of believing that we are at the center of the universe, in exchange for following the one who is at the center of the universe.
But what does that look like? There are indeed things we can do, but there are also changes to be seen. Opinions might change, or priorities, even prayers. What all this means is that we are changing. In following his way we become like the one we follow. We who are walking the way of Christ becoming like him—that’s our story. Christ calls us to care, to follow him on this way of life, and we follow, becoming more like him every step of the way.
7 Responses
Meg, this is so great!
This is a really good explanation of what love can cost and how it's easier to pass by than to engage. I think that even though there is so much pain out there and the list of work to do is never ending, we benefit from following Christ. What is the point when you die if all you managed to do was be comfortable. I am happier when I know that I am not the center of the universe. -Cassie.
You're right–what's the point of just dying comfortable? It's hard to define exactly why it's worth living a deeper life. It's not mindless happiness, but it is better! Thanks for answering.
I am at a loss here though. In today's society it is improper – actually a terminational activity – to preach His word at the office. I want to share God's word with everyone, but I also would like to hold on to my job. Am I off the path in being concerned more for my career than God's word?
I am comforted by the fact that, though I am trying to attend to some difficult tasks in a responsible, loving, caretaking way, and feeling as if I do not know quite if I am doing all that I can, I am not alone and it's not for nothing. It's hard but I do have God's love now and in the end. True, things aren't always easy and it's not about me. I appreciate knowing that Jesus walked this path (a much harder one) and he shows us how to do it and what it means for us.
This blogging is hard for me. It really helped me to think about your sermon again, Meg, especially since I just got back from taking my Dad to the Doctor. Thanks a bunch! Dana
This is one of those passages I've heard so many times, and have kind of had the same take from it. On Sunday, I got stuck on the pity that Jesus felt and yes, how many times we hear Jesus acting after words spoken in anger. Jesus had a plan, you said, and this pity for this person changed all that. I think we like anger because it allows us to stick to whatever our plans are. Whatever makes us angry we hold on to and speak out against, don't support, or avoid. We don't like pity as much because it may require us to stop, change our plans and go against reason to meet the need(s) where we feel pity. Interestingly, it's common to hear those in need say, “I don't want your pity.” Is it possible they've learned it's better to decline help from those they know would really rather stick to their plans?
We've got some great insights here. I like seeing the many directions our thoughts are going, just depending on where we are in life. My hope is that as we respond to the scripture, we might even find ways to support each other in this.