“I Do Choose. Be Made Clean!”

In today’s gospel passage (Matt. 8:1-13) we hear about Jesus’ healing powers. When, after Jesus comes down from the mountain, he is pursued by great multitudes of people, many of whom are desperate for healing and wholeness.People afflicted by ailments of body, mind, and spirit. Desperate and hurting people who turn out in droves when word spreads that Jesus is in the neighborhood. Lepers, Gentiles, the sick – outcasts all. People to be kept at arm’s length. People to be shunned and avoided at all costs.

And so commences Matthew’s account of Jesus’ healing miracles; beginning with the cleansing of a leper. One whose illness meant complete exclusion from the community. One tainted with the stigma of impurity and dreaded contagion. One, who in desperation for cleansing, kneels before Jesus saying, “Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean.” To which Jesus responds, “I do choose. Be made clean!” (Matt. 8:2-3)

Then, as Jesus enters Capernaum, his Galilean home, he encounters a Roman centurion. A man of worldly power and influence. A Gentile. A feared and detested outsider. A representative of Roman imperial power. Yet, notice that in spite of the soldier’s standing as an outsider, Jesus does not dismiss, ignore, or belittle the Centurion. Far from it. Jesus listens as the Centurion publicly announces, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, in terrible distress.” (Matt. 8:7).

By calling upon Jesus as Lord, the Gentile centurion is doing something remarkable. He recognizes Jesus’ authority as Lord of heaven and earth; authority that comes only from God. In so doing, the centurion is both witnessing to Jesus’ power and authority and demonstrating to the assembled crowd that Jesus has something to offer that not even the Roman emperor can give – healing and wholeness. And, recognizing his own unworthiness, the centurion declares, “only speak the word and my servant will be healed” (Matt. 8:8). Impressed by the faith of this outsider, Jesus says, “Go; let it be done for you according to your faith” (Matt. 8:13).

We, like the Roman centurion in today’s gospel, know our own unworthiness too well, don’t we? The brokenness of body, mind, and spirit. The ever-present reality of guilt, shame, and pain that we hide behind the masks we wear. Masks that hide the inner demons that tease and torment us. Masks that hide the psychological pain we experience on a daily basis. The anxiety, stress, depression, and fears that often bring us to our knees. The pain and heartache that comes when relationships end, when loved ones die, and when those we care about are stricken with debilitating or life-threatening illnesses. Masks that tell others that “everything is fine,” even when inside of us we are crying out for healing; for ourselves and for the people we love. Masks that hide our failures and doubts.Masks that hide our deepest fears and insecurities.

Yes, like the leper and Roman centurion mentioned in Matthew’s Gospel, we too hunger for Jesus’ healing touch. We, too, are desperate for Jesus to offer a healing word of comfort. Pleading, “Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean.”

The good news is that God is gracious and merciful. Ultimately, it’s not about what we do or what we don’t do. It’s about God’s gracious initiative. For the same God who claimed you as God’s beloved child in the waters of baptism, marked you with the sign of the cross, and raised you to new life in Christ, comes to you now. In the midst of your pain. In the midst of your brokenness. In the midst of your longing to be made whole. It’s true. The living Christ comes to you now. The One who became human, suffered, and died for you. The One falsely accused, abandoned, humiliated, tortured, forsaken, and crucified for you, for the forgiveness of your sins, for the health and salvation of the world. Yes, Jesus comes to you now, saying: “My beloved child. I tell you now, your sins are forgiven.” Healing what is broken, uniting that which separates us from God, a restoring you (and me) to a right relationship with God and with one another. In the hearing of the Word proclaimed. In the gathering of God’s beloved children, sinners and saints all.

Yes, Jesus, the great healer and reconciler of the world, the Living Word, comes to you now in the midst of your pain, your despair, your loneliness, and your suffering, saying once again, “I do choose. Be made clean!” (Matt. 8:3) For no one is outside the scope of God’s healing love, mercy, and forgiveness. Jesus’ act of healing the leper and centurion’s servant makes this crystal clear.

In the cross of the crucified and risen Lord we glimpse God’s power over evil, God’s power over sin, and God’s victory over even death itself. Yes, Jesus, the One who journeys with us in our pain, suffering, and brokenness, reaches out to you with outstretched arms from the cross, enfolding you in a loving embrace, offering healing, wholeness and peace, saying: “I do choose. Be made clean!” (Matt. 8:3).

In What Do You Place Your Trust?

Dumbo, a 1941 animated film produced by Walt Disney Studios tells the story of an orphaned elephant born with really big ears. Dumbo, who is befriended by a circus mouse named Timothy, initially ignores his tiny friend’s efforts to convince him to open his giant ears and fly. That is, until Dumbo, who mistrusts his own God-given abilities, receives a special gift from Timothy, a “magic feather” that will help him fly. In time, Dumbo, placing all of his trust in the “magic feather,” takes a leap of faith, flies, and becomes the star of the circus. Though Dumbo achieves fame, he still discounts his own gifts; he believes that only the “magic feather” enables him to fly. That is, until one day while flying an unexpected gust of wind pulled the feather loose from Dumbo’s trunk. Discounting his own ability to fly, the terrified elephant plummets to earth. Timothy the circus mouse, who was hitching a ride in Dumbo’s hat at the time, responds by trying to get Dumbo’s attention. “You can fly, you can fly, you can fly” yells Timothy as he does his best to convince his friend to open his ears. Luckily, in the midst of the crisis Dumbo finally discovers the strength to trust in his own abilities. When he finally opens his ears Dumbo soars to new heights. Looking back, I, and perhaps many of you, have collected lots of “magic feathers” over the years. Accolades and promises of worldly success extended by well-intentioned parents, teachers, and mentors, the ever-expanding carrots-on-a-stick designed to motivate, inspire, and push us to succeed and achieve in a cruel and heartless world. Progress made on the ladder of worldly success that the world promises will be rewarded with good grades, public acclaim, a good job, a big home, and lots of material possessions. Ultimately; however, these things are fleeting. They come and they go. In fact, many people, me included, find that they have climbed the proverbial ladder of success only to discover that their ladder was leaning on the wrong wall. Though successful by the world’s standards, far too many of us work ourselves ragged only to end up unfulfilled, unhappy, and deeply agitated. Yet we still cling to the “magic feathers” in our lives, don’t we? Notice, however, what happens when Dumbo loses his grip on his “magic feather.” Having lost that which gave him faith in an ability that he already possessed, Dumbo is stricken with fear and begins to fall. Fear can do that. Fear saps our resolve, deceives us into selling ourselves short, and blinds us to our innate sense of worth. When the inevitable storms of life come upon us, taking with them the external trappings of success and self-worth (jobs, status, and material possession) we, too, lose our grip on “magic feathers.” When all is said and done what remains is who we really are at the very core of our being and whose we are, beloved children of a God who creates, redeems, and sustains. A living God who repeatedly comes to us in the midst of life’s storms offering healing, wholeness, and restoration so that we might have life, life abundantly. Viewed from the perspective of faith, the animated film Dumbo challenges each one of us to ask: “What are the “magic feathers” in my life? In what or whom do I place my trust?” Because, like it or not, the storms of life will inevitably rip the “magic feathers” from our grasp. And, like Dumbo, we too will be called upon to open our ears and to find strength in what matters most to us.

Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com