The Power of Healing

When we read the scriptures, it is often important to take a look at what stories come before and after the one we are focused on. They can often give us extra insight about the current passage.  That’s true today.  The passage right before this is about Jesus healing a leper.  The man is sick and spiritually/ritually unclean. He would have been a social outcast because of his wounds.  And he approached Jesus and said, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” To which Jesus replies, “I do choose. Be made clean.”  And then Jesus told him not to tell anyone. Jesus was sort of a comedian sometimes.  I mean really, you tell a man who was physically sick…has sores on his body—and is not allowed to have normal social interactions who is now healthy and allowed to be with people to not say anything about what happened.  Come on.  That’s just not fair. People would have noticed. They would have asked him. They would have talked about him with or without information about what really happened. And so word spread. People started talking about Jesus and becoming more and more interested in him.  

And now we come to today’s passage where Jesus was teaching—surrounded by a large crowd of Jewish leaders—not just locals but from all over—(Galilee in the north, Judea in the south, and Jerusalem—the religious center). The whole house was packed—the fact that it was at a house indicates that it probably wasn’t a formal teaching, otherwise they would have been at a synagogue—but there they were and word was out. Jesus was a teacher AND a healer.  Maybe they were asking about the leper and how he healed him. at this point in the Gospel of Luke, there wasn’t a whole lot to be talking about…we have his birth story and the flight to Egypt, we have John the Baptist talking about Jesus and then baptizing him. We have the temptation in the desert and then Jesus calling the first disciples. Those are big events in our minds, but probably wouldn’t have mattered much to the masses at that point in Jesus’ life.  And yet, something drew them to him and had them filling every square inch of that house.  And it seems likely that that something was the story of Jesus healing the leper. 

Then we see these 4 men who brought their friend to meet Jesus.  He’s on his bed and he’s there to be healed. Only they couldn’t push through the crowd. So they did what any reasonable friend would do—they climbed up on the roof—opened it up and plopped him down right in front of Jesus. Make no mistake, these friends wanted their friend to be healed and they were pretty convinced that Jesus was the man for the job. And Jesus apparently saw that in them since the story says, “because of their faith, he healed the man.”  Well, technically, he forgave the man. He said, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.”  

Now, some might ask, “Why did Jesus forgive the man, when what he needed was to be healed?”  The statement sort of indicates there’s a connection between forgiveness and healing. But making that connection can be a bit of a slippery slope since we begin to wonder…does someone always have to be forgiven before they can be healed?  (The answer to which is no…we find that right before this passage in the earlier part of Luke 5 when Jesus heals the leper and there was no mention of forgiveness or sins.) and the other question that arises is “Is the man’s paralyzation a punishment for his sin?”  We don’t have the direct answer for that right here in the scriptures, but we have it lots of other places…Jesus came to heal, to restore, to forgive and to save…not to condemn.  There are no scriptures where Jesus says, “Hey, you’re a sinner, you should suffer.”  Not one.  So let’s not read too much into all of this and go around thinking that sick people are the worst sinners.  I’m sure we all know someone wonderful who has suffered far more than their share, and on the opposite end, I’m sure we also know someone not so wonderful who could afford to suffer a little more.  (at least in our estimation).  

Ok, so back to the task at hand…”Why did Jesus start with forgiveness when what the man needed was healing?”  I think the answer is two-fold.  1) The scripture suggests there is a connection between forgiveness and healing.  Forgiveness isn’t always tied to healing, but apparently, sometimes it is.  And, 2) Jesus seems to be establishing his authority as the Son of Man and proving that he has the authority both to heal (like he did right before this with the leper) and to forgive (as he does in this passage).  He’s showing that God’s power and authority is shared with him for his work here on earth. 

Let’s go back to this man…who has now been offered forgiveness even though he’s confessed nothing and asked for nothing.  And before he can say or do anything, there’s a whole bunch of doubters in the room wondering just how Jesus gets the authority to say anyone is forgiven…he has no right…only God can do that.  (When maybe just minutes before they were asking how he could heal…when only God could do that…)  Whatever the case, the Pharisees aren’t seeing the full picture.  And Jesus can tell they’re grumbling and so he asks the most bizarre question, “which is easier to say, ‘you’re forgiven’ or ‘take up your mat and walk’?” Which is easier to say?  Like in Aramaic?  I don’t know. Is one of them hard to say?!  Is it really about the words?  It’s kind of like Jesus is saying, “come on guys, it’s semantics. I’ve already shown you I can heal. Now I’m showing you I can forgive.”  Do you really want me to say, “you’re healed, now get up and walk?”  Ok.  “You’re healed, get up and walk.”  It doesn’t make a difference in the end since I have the authority to do both. I am the Son of Man and in case you had any doubts about what that means, here’s the beginner’s lesson…it means I can heal AND forgive.  

So, what difference does any of that make for us?  Well, what was true then is also true now.  Jesus is the Son of Man who has the authority of God to both heal and forgive.  Sometimes the healing will be tied to forgiveness and other times it won’t.  Sometimes healing is offered when we ask directly, and sometimes Jesus will bless or heal through the faith and faithfulness of friends.  Sometimes we’ll doubt that he can actually do that…we’ll say it’s not possible, we’ll have too many questions to believe in the miracle. And yet Jesus persists in healing and forgiving, proving it’s not just possible, but it’s also probable.  

Now, I have to say, there are also lots of things I don’t understand and can’t explain about healing. It’s not a perfect science.  I don’t have the magic prayer or petition formula so that each person is healed just like we want when we want it.  I believe healing is possible. I believe that sometimes forgiveness is a necessary first step. I believe God hears us when we pray for our friends—that our faith is taken seriously, even if they’ve weathered so many storms that they can’t or won’t ask for themselves.  And I can’t explain when it doesn’t happen.  For a lot of us, we want to believe in the power of prayer. We want to believe Jesus can and will do these awesome things. And at the same time our hearts have been broken and our faith has been shattered when it seems God didn’t listen to our prayers. When that really amazing person suffered far more than their share even though the whole church was praying…we begin to wonder what God was thinking and what God was doing.  It can be hard to claim faith when we try to do all the right things and still don’t see the results we have asked for.  And I can’t help but wonder if that’s what happened for this man…the paralytic. Maybe he did have faith, maybe he had prayed 1000 times to be healed. Maybe everyone else around him seemed to be getting better and yet he wasn’t. Maybe he’d prayed so long and so hard and didn’t see or hear God answering that he had given up.  Maybe he’d lost hope.  And so when his friends’ faith (which may or may not have been equally strained) heard about this man named Jesus and the way he healed a leper their faith was stirred, and hope was kindled, they went back to their friend to share their hope.  Notice, he didn’t let them put him on their backs or simply carry him, he stayed on his mat and had to be taken, bed and all. Now, maybe that was the most necessary given his condition, or maybe it became necessary because he didn’t have an ounce of faith to even try for fear of being let down again.  

Faith isn’t an easy journey….there are ups and downs and everything in between.  When we go through hardship it can be extra hard to believe God cares or is willing to do anything to help us.  And yet the power of the Gospel keeps coming back…Jesus has the power to heal and forgive…his purpose is to redeem and restore. That’s his job—100%…even when we doubt it. Even when life has knocked us to our knees and we have to rely on the faith of our friends because ours is just too weak. Jesus is a healer, he’s a Savior…and that blessing, those miracles aren’t reserved for a select few…he came for the world…that means all of us.

Now, I certainly can’t guarantee the outcome, I don’t have that power or that authority, but I will say it’s worth asking…for ourselves and for our friends because the one who came to heal and forgive hasn’t given up on his power or authority.  Jesus is still in the business of redeeming and restoring. It’s courageous and risky to ask.  We don’t know how God will answer. And often, it seems, God’s reply is not our specific prayer, but that doesn’t mean God didn’t answer us.  It doesn’t mean God didn’t act.  If you have doubts, I get it; we’ve lived the ups and downs and unknowns in the last few years.  My mom has had a hard road of recovery after a hip replacement and then a fall, and now she’s facing stage 4 cancer…I’ve wondered how efficacious my prayers are.  And in the midst of her seeming lack of healing, I’ve also seen her persevere to walk after months in a wheelchair. I’ve seen her go from the ICU with sepsis to back in rehab. It may seem minor in the face of terminal cancer, but they’re still answered prayers.  And I have to take note and remember those moments as much, if not more, than the unanswered prayers I hold against God.  

The heart of the Gospel is about God’s deep abiding love for us. There will be lots of people and lots of things that try to diminish and defeat that truth in our lives.  But if we return to the scriptures, over and over again we will see God’s power at work—transforming and changing lives, reaching those on the margins, blessing the afflicted.  And, we will see the need to seek after Christ, sometimes for our own healing and forgiveness, and sometimes for our friends (or family) when they’re run down, weary, or feeling hopeless.  We are called to call on Christ. And we are invited to be the bearers of good news, offering hope, telling about this man named Jesus, and bringing the broken and the hurting to Christ in faith, just like the friends did for their paralyzed friend.

Not One of Them

Levi was a traditional name—it was that of the 3rd son of Jacob (later known as Israel) and that tribe of Jacob became the priests—known as the Levites.  They were the ones who performed the priestly duties for all of Israel.  They were the ones who bridged the gap between the people and God.  And that would have been true for all of the men in that family. Since in that time you did what you father did for work and what his father did before him and his father before him.  

So when we hear that this man is named Levi we know a bit about him.  We know he’s a Jew, from the line of Levi, son of Jacob.  His father would have been a priest, and his father before him. And Levi, the tax collector, would have been expected to be a priest too. Yet he’s not. So we know that somehow, some way, something went wrong and derailed him from that course.  We have no idea why or how, but he missed or skipped the priest boat.  And now, instead, he’s a tax collector, which happens to be one of the most despised professions in all of Israel. 

You see, tax collectors didn’t work for Israel or the temple. They worked for Rome. They collected taxes for Cesar. And the Romans were basically occupying Israel. So when you worked for Rome, you were working for the enemy…you were a traitor.  But it got worse.   Because the tax collectors sort of worked on commission…the more they taxed, the more they made. Some inflated taxes so they could line their pockets.  In any case, it wasn’t just that they were traitors for working for Rome, but that they were lying, thieving traitors who stole from their family and friends.  Needless to say, they were not held in great regard. 

Can you imagine the pain and the shame his parents felt?  I mean, not that a son is responsible for all of his parents feelings about his choices—they were his choices and he had the right to make them, but imagine their strain on their relationship.  He’s set to be in one of the most respected fields for all the Jews and instead he becomes a lying, thieving, traitor who works for Rome and steals from his people.  

Can you imagine?  

So, Levi is a let-down, a family failture. He’s rejected. He’s likely shunned. He’s considered a low-life, not just by his family but by pretty much everyone—because they don’t want to be living in a place that’s occupied by Romw and they knew they were paying a good chunk extra on taxes to pad Levi’s pockets—-Let’s just say he wasn’t going to get the good neighbor award anytime soon.  

And then Jesus comes to town and he sees Levi and says, “Follow me!” Now that sounds like a simple instruction but it’s not really about physical following--it’s about becoming a disciple. A better translation might be, “Come imitate me.” And Levi says, “Ok!”  He’s on board and excited.  He’s so excited that he wants to throw a party. Who knows how long Levi had been a tax collector and if he’d come to love it for the money and luxuries or if he hated it because of what he had to do—but what we do know is that once he had the chance to get out—he went.  Forget the money. Forget the perks. And forget being hated by everyone—he was outta there.  “Follow you? Do something different?  Ok!  And, you know…Jesus, maybe you could meet my friends too—because after we started working for Rome, we really couldn’t get out of it—no one wanted to hire us after what we’d done. No one trusted us. They didn’t really care what we’d learned or how we’d grown or even how we’d been changed—they couldn’t get past our reputations and our past.  So, um…if you’re willing to give people a second chance, I know a lot of guys who might be interested.”  Levi had received grace and he wanted to share it. 

That’s the amazing thing about grace…not only do you want more for yourself, but you really want to share it. You want other people to know the goodness that you’ve experienced.  When I was appointed to Wesley UMC in Riverside, the church I served had some homeless guys who hung out on the steps all day and would regularly stay the night.  At first they weren’t really wanted.  No one wanted them around. They didn’t want their problems. Didn’t want their drinking. Just didn’t want to deal with them. 

But they kept hanging out.  Folks really struggled to accept these men. They used drugs. They drank all day. They didn’t work.  One hadn’t paid child support in years.  One had been on the street for 17 years.  They weren’t popular…none of the homeless were.  They were seen as a problem and no one really wanted to have to be the one to deal with it.  

I can imagine they had a similarly strained dynamic with their families as Levi did with his.  To be sure, homeless and on drugs or booze was not what their parents had envisioned for them. I doubt it’s anything near what they had envisioned for themselves. And yet, that’s where they were, that’s who they had become. Rejected. Isolated. Forgotten. Despised.  

And then they began to encounter grace. They were invited to worship. They were invited to have a hot meal. They were offered a hot shower. They were given clean clothes. They were told they had a safe place to sleep.  And we began to form friendships.  We learned their names, Allen and David, and they learned ours.  And then, much like Levi, they invited their friends.  More of the homeless came to this place for grace.  Jimmy, Cuca, Carlos, and little Allen (different from the original Allen).  Then others. And still others.  Each time someone was greeted with warmth and care and got a bit of what they needed in terms of food, or clothes, shelter or care, they talked about it with their friends…and so more came.  

And people objected, just like the Pharisees…why would you waste your time on them? They are a lost cause. And we were reminded again and again that Jesus came to save the lost; and so our work continued.  

Now, it’s not that the homeless are all a lost cause or considered the worst like the tax collectors. But in them and in their stories we can see the rift between them and their families. We can imagine the rejection and isolation they experience day in and day out. And we can imagine the excitement of being noticed, known by name, invited and included just like Jesus did with Levi.  And how receiving that grace could be life changing.  But there are other ways we end up with broken relationships with family: unmet expectations, differing paths, rejection, isolation, and all kinds of challenges. And in that we can see our own need for grace—to be acknowledged, called by name, invited, and included.  And that’s just what Jesus does. It’s who he is. He is the one full of grace who calls us in from the margins, away from being outsiders and into deep meaningful relationship.  

Did you know this isn’t the last we see of Levi?  It’s pretty much the last time we hear him called by this name, but if you’ve read or heard the gospels, you probably know him quite well….do you know who he is?  He’s the disciple Jesus calls Matthew.   Yep.  He went from being a failed priest, to a despised tax collector, to a disciple of Jesus, to one of the disciples who founded the church.  How’s that for full circle?  I guess he was meant to be a godly messenger after all?!  

The power of who Jesus is compels us, it draws us in, because it’s often starkly different from what the world tells us and how the world treats us.  Grace allows us to be defined not by who we were, but who we are as called by Christ—to be who we were meant to be.  The reality is we all fail. We all go off course, somewhere along the way. We disappoint. We struggle with broken relationships.  We stand isolated and hurting. We need grace. And Jesus comes to us, as outsiders among the lost and says “Follow me.”  And we have the choice to follow him….to choose grace and acceptance, love and inclusion.  And we need to be aware that when we do that, when we follow him….it’s not on a stroll down the road, it’s imitating who he is, it’s being transformed by love and then offering transforming love to others. As we become disciples of Christ, imitators of his ways, we begin to notice and find the outsiders, the lost causes and we are to invite them to grace and inclusion in our life.  

It sounds lovely and shiny when it’s preached in a sermon. But really, it’s messy and hard.  It’s hard to find the *right* answer between helping and enabling. It’s hard to find the right answer when people stay stuck in their addiction and we are continuously called to be people of grace. What does grace look like when it’s tied to accountability? They aren’t mutually exclusive.  This week we had a man come asking for help. He’s an outsider. He’s someone who is struggling and is seemingly without family support or a network of friends to hold him up as he journeys a rocky road.  And his struggles have made him rough, and a bit brash.  Quite frankly, it would have been easier to push him out the door and say, “sorry, we can’t help you.” But we are followers of Christ….imitators of his ways, and so we are challenged to include those who seem like lost causes.  We are asked to care for them and hold them even when no one else wants to. And the particulars of what that looks like can be difficult to work out, but we are called to get into the mix of it all and listen for God’s voice and work on working it out.  

The Levis of this world are not popular.  And they aren’t necessarily easy to work with. But they are beloved and favored by God and as imitators of Christ we are called to work with them offering grace and acceptance.