Merciful Messiah

Leprous. Unclean. In some ways, we know we are like lepers. We are not of this world. We hurt. We mourn. Things are not as they should be. Moreover, we feel the pervasiveness of sin, in every corner of our bodies and our world, our neighborhoods, and communities. 

We need healing. We need mercy. We cry out. I just found out a good friend suddenly died. Maria’s husband is dying, she’s in pain, she has no heat. Angelica’s husband is in jail. Gracie receives calls in Honduras about victims of sex trafficking and rape. Friends: fight cancer. Brain surgery. Car accidents. Depression. Crushing busyness of the holiday season. No food. Alcoholism. Shame.Domestic violence.

Lord, have mercy.

In Luke 17:11-19, the ten lepers, who constantly raised their voices crying “Unclean! Unclean!” now raise their voices, crying, “Master, have mercy!” Mercy. Mercy. Lord, we need mercy.

He gives mercy. Jesus says, “Be cleansed.” And they were cleansed.

But one of them saw something more, something greater. He realized one greater than Elijah was there—Elijah healed Namaan the Syrian, like us, a foreigner. A leper. Who with all his powers and riches, was hit and eaten away by the suffering of life. Leprous. Outsider. Hurting. Confused. Bewildered. But..... Now, now  this Samaritan leper saw that one greater than Elijah was here. The Messiah would be known by the cleansing of lepers (cf. Jesus’ previous words to John, Luke 7:22). The Great Healer was here. God breaking in.

 And the Samaritan leper saw it. Saw it. His eyes were opened. He turned back to give thanks. He turned back to worship. This outsider, foreigner, who was unclean and excluded from the temple, worshipped in Spirit and in truth before the true Temple. He fell at Jesus’ feet in gratitude and worship. The Merciful Messiah was here. We, too, see the Merciful Messiah. We, too, recieve his touch on our leprousy, pain, violence, grief.

In light of his mercy, the leper’s past suffering fell away. His perspective changed--he saw this rabbi, this itinerant, homeless teacher, as the in-breaking of hope, of a great new thing, and all the world and grief and pain was re-ordered. His values changed—he valued Christ more than the gift of healing. The cleansing declared by the priests would “seal” his cleaning, but he turned back. This could have raised doubts—would he lose his healing if he didn’t go to the priests? There was a change in trust—he trusted Jesus more than ritual. This merciful Messiah. His priorities changed—first he would worship and say thanks, then he would return to the temple, society, and his family. He could see his kids again, touch his wife again. But first, raise his voice in worship. First, touch Jesus. First, be with Jesus, this Merciful Messiah. We can be, just be, with our Merciful Messiah.

Lord, have mercy.

 Ten came to Jesus – One returns to Jesus.

Ten kept their distance – One throws himself at Jesus’ feet.
Ten lament – One praises.
Ten are seen by Jesus – One sees Jesus as who he really is.
Ten are sent by Jesus – One is sent by Jesus.
Ten are cleansed – One is made whole.

Jesus, his presence. Worship. Gratitude. New sight. Perspective, priorities, values, trust changed. And a true healing—the ten are “cleansed,” Greek katharizo. Yet, the Samaritan is “made well” by his faith—the Greek is sozo, a word that signifies a more complete wholeness, healing, both in a physical and salvific sense. In the presence of Jesus, in light of this Merciful Messiah, he found wholeness. Healing. He who was far off was now in the presence of Mercy personified. He touched Mercy. Mercy, we touch Jesus. Mercy, we are with Jesus. Mercy, we worship Jesus. Mercy, Jesus. Jesus, the Merciful Messiah.