Mark 1:40-45: Jesus Heals a Leper

There is no more pitiable predicament than to be cut off from other people, to be an outcast, someone people loathe and are afraid to come near. But that was what it meant to be a “leper” in Jesus’s day. In this story we see how Jesus responds to the deepest need of a poor leper and learn how he also responds to the deepest need of our heart.

INTRODUCTION

I used to teach school, and I enjoyed my work, but there was one part of working with children that was especially hard for me. That was the cruelty of so many children to those who they considered undesirable in some way. The child that was too fat or too skinny, or too short, or had bad skin, or was poor, or lacked social skills, or was in some way “different” was often picked on, or—almost as bad—ignored. We teachers called these children “isolates.” The plight of these isolated, friendless children was heartbreaking.

And it was often impossible to convince the “normal,” happy children to behave considerately. Once I was talking to a girl named Beverly about her unkindness to a classmate who had some handicap (I can’t now remember what). I said to Beverly, “Beverly, suppose you had her problem. How would you feel if someone treated you the way you treat her?” 

Beverly said, “But Mr. Sommerville, I don’t have that problem.”

In this story we will watch Jesus in an encounter with an “outcast” of his day.

Read: Mark 1:40-45

I. To have leprosy in Jesus’s day was a terrible fate.

A. “Leprosy” was the name given to several ugly and disfiguring skin diseases, not only to the disease we now call “leprosy,” or “Hansen’s disease.”

One of the jobs I held in time past was that of a medical librarian at one of our state hospitals.

We had a book in our library with color photos of dozens of different kinds of skin diseases.

Some of those skin diseases were truly horrible to look at. I hated that book.

B. But it was even worse in Bible times. In Bible times people thought that anyone who had such an ugly disfiguring disease meant that the sufferer had done something evil and was being punished by God. “God hates lepers,” so people thought.

The Old Testament book of Leviticus instructs the Israelites how they were to treat the lepers in their midst.

In Leviticus 13 we read that whenever anyone had some sort of abnormal eruption or growth or spot on his skin that persisted, he was to be brought to the priest for an examination.

If the priest determined that the person had leprosy, the priest would pronounce him “unclean.”

They believed that these diseases were very, very contagious. Perhaps many of them were.

Here are the instructions for the victim of what they called “leprosy” in Leviticus 13:45-46:

“The leper who has the disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head hang loose, and he shall cover his upper lip and cry, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean; he shall dwell alone in a habitation outside the camp.”

He must remain outside all towns or villages.

This meant that he would have to leave his family—all who loved him and whom he loved.

His only associates would be other lepers, unless somehow, sometime the disease went away.

He could not bring sacrifices to the Temple, worship at the Temple, or take part in the religious festivals of the people.

And the state of medical knowledge was such in that day that that he would most likely be isolated from normal society for the rest of his or her life.

It must have seemed a fate worse than death.

II. Let’s imagine the scene in our story.

A. Watch the poor leper come to Jesus and throw himself at Jesus’s feet.

Right now, he’s broken the law. He was supposed to stay away, but the poor man is desperate.

He cries out to Jesus: “If you will, you can make me clean.”

We aren’t told what it was that inspired this man to believe that Jesus could heal him.

I suppose he had been watching from afar as Jesus healed people with various diseases.

He decides to take a chance; what could he lose?

He rushes up to Jesus before anyone can drive him away and throws himself on his knees before Jesus and pours out his heart before the Lord: “If you will, you can make me clean!”

Notice that he doesn’t say, “…you can heal me” but “…you can make me clean.” As bad as the disease was, it was the uncleanness that was even harder to bear.

Will Jesus drive him away? He’d probably experienced enough of that.

B. Now, as the poor man kneels, holding his breath, watch Jesus.

Jesus looks at him and is moved with pity. When the man said, “If you will…” Jesus could only respond in one way, “I will; be clean.”

Jesus had a tender heart.

The word translated “compassion” or “pity” comes from the agitation of one’s inward organs, like a convulsion of in one’s belly or heart.

But compassion is more than a strong feeling. In the Bible compassion has to result in action, like the compassion of the Good Samaritan, who, seeing the half-dead man lying beside the road, stopped and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine, and then set him on his donkey and brought him to the inn.

To properly show compassion, we must also do what we can about the plight of those we pity.

C. We read that Jesus stretched out his hand and touched the man.

This is an important part of the story.

Jesus could have healed with a word.

But this man needed to be touched.

The word in Greek can mean more than what we call touching. The word basically means “to take hold of,” “to fasten to,” “to adhere to.”

This is the way I picture the scene: Jesus reaches out and takes hold of the poor leper with his hands on both of the man’s shoulders. It’s almost a hug.

This was an important gesture to the poor leper, who had not been intentionally touched by another human being—except other lepers—since he had contracted the disease.

D. Then Jesus told the man to go, show himself to the priest and get the required certificate of health so that he could rejoin normal society.

So, as important as his healing, was the freedom now to go back to his family—maybe a wife and children, maybe his parents, brothers and sisters—surely his old friends.

He would no longer be disdained, untouchable.

He could again join the community in worship.

Did the leper become a follower of Jesus? We don’t know. We hope he did.

Some who were healed became believers; some didn’t. Not all who enjoy Christ’s blessings give their hearts to Jesus, but we hope this man did.

III. Here is what I see as a deeper meaning in the story.

A. People were sure that touching a leper would cause them to become infected.

But when Jesus touched the leper, the infection went the other way.

Instead of the leper’s disease going to Jesus, Jesus’s wellness—Jesus’s goodness—“infected” the leper.

Instead of the leper’s uncleanness making Jesus unclean, Jesus’s “cleanness” cleansed he leper.

B. Here is a true story that illustrates this point.

The greatest Christian leader in Japan during the last century was a man named Toyohiko Kagawa.

It was in the early years of the 20th century that Kagawa, then a teenager, came upon an evangelistic tent meeting. Curious, he went inside and was impressed with the message of the missionary conducting the meeting.

Later, the missionary—a Dr. Meyers—led young Kagawa to the Lord.

Kagawa was so earnest about his new faith that, after two years of college, he went off to spend the summer preaching outdoors in the worst slum in Kobe.

Rain or shine, the young man preached the gospel to anyone who would listen.

He contracted tuberculosis and the doctor filled out the death certificate.

But Kagawa recovered, went back to school.

Soon he was back preaching in the slum.

Again his strength gave out. He became very sick again. He went to live in a fisherman’s hut.

No one would come near him, and he was very lonesome.

But Dr. Meyers, his missionary friend, came to him.

Dr. Meyers stayed with Kagawa in the hut and slept in the same bed, which was only a heap of straw.

Kagawa asked the missionary, “Aren’t you afraid of my disease?”

Dr. Meyers answered, “Your disease is contagious, but love is more contagious.”

Kagawa recovered and continued to live his life for Jesus.

This is what happened when Jesus touched the leper.

Maybe, in some sense, this is what happens when a faith-filled believer touches a wounded, broken sinner with the love of Jesus.

CONCLUSION

In this story we see the loveliness of the Savior.

This is the Jesus who is your Friend and my Friend.

This is the Jesus who gave himself to heal us from our brokenness, to cleanse us from sin, and to prepare us for live with him forever.

Let me leave you with two lessons to take away from this story.

1. We are needy people, just like the leper. We need spiritual health, cleansing, and wholeness.

We can kneel before our Lord and make our request.

Haven’t you made the leper’s prayer often? “Lord, if you will, you can help me.”

And, even if we don’t get an answer we hope for, we can let Jesus’s goodness flow into our body. We can let his love fill our soul.

Jesus does will to help us. Just as he willed to cleanse the leper, he wills to cleanse us and make us whole.

Jesus wills that the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

He waits to touch us, to take hold of us, and make us his.

But one touch isn’t enough. We need to come back every day, make our plea, and let Jesus touch us again and again.

2. We do not have the power heal either sickness or sin with a literal touch. But if we are like Jesus, we will reach out to those in need and touch them—literally and figuratively.

That’s our mission at Village Ridge: to spread the love of Jesus to those around us.

That means to our fellow residents and to the staff members who care for us here.

You are limited in what you can do. But you can give an encouraging word; you can pray; you can express your gratitude. You can mention your faith in appropriate ways.

You can point people to Jesus.

Mark 1:29-31: An Eventful Sabbath at Peter's House

INTRODUCTION

When I was young, Sundays were always special at our house.

Breakfasts were more leisurely. We usually had something special for breakfast—maybe waffles.

We got on our best clothes, suits and ties for boys, dresses for girls.

Mother got started on a special meal. It was almost always a roast or chicken in the oven with potatoes arranged around it. The roast and potatoes cooked slowly while we were at church—a threehour stint, which always included a worship service and Sunday school.

She always put extra potatoes in the roasting pan in case we brought company home with us.

When we got home the roast would be nicely cooked and the potatoes would be brown and delicious.

Mother made gravy with the drippings from the roast.

And, as often as possible, we would have company to share our dinner.

Sometimes it was a visitor who came to church and mother had invited home with us.

We lived in a university town, and sometimes Mother would invite two or three students.

Sometimes friends from out-of-town would show up at church. They’d always get an invitation.

In the afternoon we would visit with our guests.

We would play our favorite Spike Jones records for our visitors.

If we played outdoors, we were forbidden to be noisy or get dirty because it was Sunday. We never worked in the garden or mowed the grass or any such chores on Sunday.

At suppertime we would listen to the Quiz Kids and Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy.

Then in evening we went back to church for the evening service.

Sundays were different and we always enjoyed the change of activities.

In the first chapter of the Gospel of Mark we read about how Jesus spent a memorable Sabbath.

Of course, the Sabbath was Saturday for Jesus, but it was like our Sunday—a special day for God.

In some ways Jesus spent this day like we did.

He went to church—they called it synagogue.

And the rest of the day he spent with his friends.

On the day we will read about, Jesus went to synagogue with the brothers Peter and Andrew and the brothers James and John.

On this day several unusual things happened. I suspect that almost every day in Jesus’s life after he began his public ministry, unusual things happened, but this day was important enough that Mark tells us about it in his gospel.

At Synagogue they didn’t have one pastor. The synagogue rulers who would arrange for the speakers. They would often invite visiting Rabbis to speak. And this day a synagogue ruler invited Jesus to give the message.

Jesus gave the morning message, and, we read, “the people were amazed.” Jesus’s teaching was like nothing they had ever heard before.

But then something unexpected happened.

A crazy man—the Bible says he had an unclean spirit—stood up and began to rave: “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” he shouted. “Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of Israel.”

And Jesus rebuked the spirit, and it came out convulsing him.

All the people in the meeting were amazed.

After the meeting, Peter and Andrew brought Jesus, along with their friends, James and John, home to Peter’s house for dinner.

After dinner when evening came—remember that the Sabbath began and ended at sundown—people began to gather around the door of Peter and Andrew’s house.

All the sick people in the area had assembled to be healed.

They waited until sundown after the Sabbath had ended because people weren’t supposed to work on the Sabbath, and—in their minds—healing was work.

But I left out the most important thing that happened that day. It was when the little group arrived at Peter’s house for the noon meal.

Here it is in Mark 1:29-31:

“And immediately he left the synagogue, and entered the house of Simon and Andrew, wit h James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was sick with a fever, and immediately they told him of her.

And he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up, and the fever left her; and she served them” (Mark 1:29-31).

Now that’s very short story. You probably never heard it in Sunday school. But it’s interesting and instructive. There’s something here for us to think about.

I. Notice.

A. Peter had a house and a wife.

An early Christian writer, Clement of Alexandria, who lived about a hundred years later, wrote that Peter had children.

Peter’s brother Andrew lived in the same house with Peter’s wife and mother-in-law. We don’t know whether Andrew had a family or not.

One thing that was different about dinner in Peter’s house than in ours was that Jews didn’t cook on the Sabbath. In order to make it a day of rest, they prepared the food the day before, so it was ready as soon as they got home from synagogue.

B. But when they got home from church they found Peter’s mother-in-law in bed.

She hadn’t gone to synagogue. She wasn’t feeling well and so she had stayed home. But when they arrived, Peter’s mother-in-law was burning up with a fever.

In Luke’s version of the story we read that “she had been seized with a high fever.”

In those days of malaria and little medical knowledge or medicines, a high fever was very dangerous.

So they came to Jesus with the problem. We don’t have much detail, so we have to imagine the scene.

We read that Jesus came and took the sick woman by the hand.

C. We don’t know whether he said anything, but we read that he took her by the hand and lifted her up.

Have you ever noticed how many different ways Jesus used to heal people?

Sometimes he just spoke a word: ”Be healed.”

Sometimes he touched the person or the part of the person that was diseased. Remember how he put his hand on the leper. That was a very meaningful gesture, because no one was supposed to touch a leper.

Sometimes he healed at a distance. Remember the nobleman’s son and the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter.

One time he made clay and put it in a blind man’s eyes and gave him something to do: “Go to the Pool of Siloam and wash your eyes.”

One time Jesus didn’t do anything. A woman just touched him and was healed. Jesus told her, “Your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

One time he healed a blind man in two stages. The first time the man could see but things were so blurry; he said he saw people like trees walking.

So Jesus touched his eyes again and then he could see perfectly.

I think that Jesus healed people in many different ways to teach us that God works in each life in a special way suited to each person.

In this case we read that Jesus took Peter’s mother-in-law by the hand and raised her up.

I think that is an especially beautiful way restore the lady to health.

Jesus showed special tenderness in taking her hand and raising her up from her bed.

I can remember another time Jesus healed in this way.

Do you remember that when the synagogue ruler Jairus’s twelve-year-old daughter was lying dead in her bed, Jesus came to her, took her by the hand and said, “Little girl, get up.” And, we read, “Immediately the girl got up and began to walk about.”

D. And, we read, Peter ‘s mother-in-law got up and served them.

First of all, that she could get up and go right to work shows us that the healing is complete.

People who have been stretched out in bed with high fevers usually take a while to recuperate.

But when Jesus healed this lady, she was completely healed and recuperated right now.

Perhaps seems odd to us that she went right to work.

There was at least one other woman in the house—Peter’s wife. And there may have been others. Couldn’t these women have done the serving and let the older lady recuperate?

To understand we have to consider the social customs of the day.

Peter’s mother-in-law—being the senior woman in the household—would have had the privilege of being in charge of the hospitality in the home.

When Jesus healed her—and she was obviously thoroughly healed—he restored her to her rightful place as the one in charge of hospitality in the home.

For her, this was an honor she wouldn’t have wanted to relinquish.

When we used to have company, sometimes a guest would approach Charlotte in the kitchen and ask if she can help.

They didn’t just barge in. They asked permission.

And generally Charlotte rejected their help. She told them that everything was under control.

So don’t feel sorry for the lady. She was where she wanted to be. Glad to be cured and back where she belonged, in charge of the kitchen.

II. So what can we learn from the story?

A. I have reminded you before that each of Jesus’s healings is an acted out parable.

Each healing has a lesson for us about salvation.

Jesus opens the eyes of the physically blind to show what he does for us who are spiritually blind.

Jesus makes the leper “clean” to show how Jesus cleanses us from the filth of our sins.

Jesus heals the crippled to show what he can do for those who are spiritually crippled.

Jesus heals the paralyzed to show how he sets us free from sin.

Jesus raises the dead to illustrate the Resurrection he has in store for all who belong to him.

B. This woman was deathly ill, weak and helpless. She was burning up with fever.

Jesus came to her—as he comes to each of us.

Jesus took her by the hand—as he takes us by the hand, in a figurative sense.

Jesus raised her up—as he raises us up when he gives us healing and wholeness and salvation.

She got up and served Jesus and his friends—as he expects us to get up and go to work serving God by serving others.

APPLICATION

Everyone in this room has been on earth a long time.

Maybe God has left us here so long because he has work for us.

We’ve served Jesus in many ways in times past—in our families, and churches, and occupations, and neighborhoods.

Some of you have guided others to God.

Some of you have done God’s work of helping those in need.

What can you do, even now?

I can’t tell you. But you’ll find something.

Some of the small things we do make a big difference.

You can invite a friend to church.

You can give someone a nice compliment.

You can listen to someone tell you their troubles.

You can be a friend to someone who is lonely. Sometimes you can do a favor or give a gift.

You can write a check for a worthy cause or for someone in distress.

You can write a letter of encouragement or appreciation.

Coming to our service here is serving Jesus, because if you come, that encourages someone else to come too.

I read a story about a servant girl who was asked at church what Christian work she did.

She said that she had not the opportunity to do much because her duties were so constant, but she said,

“When I go to bed I take the newspaper to bed with me, and read the notices of the births and I pray for all the little babies.

“And I read the notices of marriages, and I pray that those who have been married may be happy.

“And I read the announcements of death and I pray that the sorrowing may be comforted.”

Just to live your life for Jesus is a way of serving him—because your cheerfulness and gratefulness and kindness will help draw others to God.

Maybe someone will ask you what makes you the kind person you are, and you will have the opportunity to tell them.

Maybe they will just see your peace and strength and be encouraged.

It is quite possible that you will meet someone in Heaven who is there because you encouraged her—or him.

I like to quote this saying from Mother Teresa: “We can’t do any great thing for God, but we can do something little with great love.”

The Cross of Christ: John 12:20-24, 27-32:Jesus Calls Us from the Cross

The great Christian days in most churches are Christmas and Easter. Somehow Good Friday gets left behind. Not nearly so many people go to church on Good Friday to remember Christ’s death as go on Christmas (or Christmas Eve) and Easter. But without what happened on Good Friday, Christmas and Easter would have no meaning.

JOHN 12:20-24 & 27-32: JESUS CALLS US FROM THE CROSS

INTRODUCTION

Today is Palm Sunday, the first day of Holy Week.
It is appropriate that we direct our thoughts to the meaning of Christ’s death.

I counted the pages in my Bible devoted to that last week of Jesus’s life, from Palm Sunday to Holy Saturday and found that of the 94 pages of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, 31 are devoted to the week when Jesus died. That’s 1/3 of the pages of the combined 4 gospels.
In contrast I found fewer than 3 pages devoted to the Christmas story as told in Matthew and Luke and a just a little more than 3 pages in the accounts of the Easter story in all four gospels.

What happened during the week when Christ died is the heart of our faith.
And today I want to talk to you about the meaning of Christ’s death and why this event should be continually in our thoughts.

I. John’s gospel has a little story that helps us understand the importance of the Cross in our lives.

A. In John 12, we read about some Greeks who came to see Jesus just a few days before he died.

John 12:20-24:
Now among those who went up to worship at the feast were some Greeks. So these came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”
Philip went and told Andrew; Andrew went with Philip and they told Jesus.
And Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of man to be glorified. Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

We know from the gospels that during his life Jesus taught only among the Jews and left his disciples the mission to proclaim the good news to the Gentiles.
Perhaps these Greeks knew this, and so they approached Philip, hoping that he might allow them an interview with Jesus.
Maybe Philip wasn’t confident in this, so he told Andrew, and together they went to Jesus.
We assume that the Greeks came with them and that these words were spoken in their presence.

Notice two things about the words of Jesus we just read:

1. Jesus compares himself to a grain of wheat.

If the wheat grain doesn’t fall into the ground, it remains alone.
But when the wheat grain falls into the earth, it dies. But in its death a plant springs up that bears many wheat grains.
Jesus is the wheat grain that was about to die, and from his death would come a rich harvest of souls for God.

2. At the beginning of his speech Jesus said, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

These words about “the hour” occur several times in John’s gospel.
Do you remember the wedding at Cana when Jesus’s mother prompts him to help because the wine had failed? Jesus resisted her, telling her that his hour had not come.
Again in John 8 we read that his enemies wanted to arrest Jesus, and we read twice that no one laid hands on him, “because his hour had not yet come.”
Later in Jesus’s prayer to the Father after the Lord’s Supper, we read that he lifted up his eyes to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify thy Son that the Son may glorify thee…”
In Mark’s gospel we read that in Gethsemane, when Jesus was struggling with the horror of his impending death, he prayed that “if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.”
And then that same night, as he hears Judas leading Jesus’s enemies through the garden to arrest him, he awakens his sleeping disciples, telling them: “Enough! The hour has come, the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.”
The hour that Jesus talks about had two meanings: it was the hour of his greatest suffering—which meant death on a cross…
…and it was the hour of his greatest glory—which also meant death on a cross!

That is why he said, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

B. Now let’s look at what Jesus says in succeeding verses:

John 12:27-32:
“Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father glorify thy name.’”
Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.”…
Now is the judgment of this world, now shall the ruler of the world be cast out: and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”
He said this to show by what death he was to die.

We talk about the glory of Easter morning.
Many of us would as soon skip Good Friday and go straight to Resurrection Sunday because the crucifixion is so sad and Easter is so glorious.
But John looks at the Cross as the time when Jesus was especially glorified.
That is why so many pages of each gospel is devoted to the events of those last days and hours.

That is why Jesus said, “I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

The death of Christ is the event that wins our salvation.
The death of Jesus is the means by which we are made friends with God.
The death of Jesus is the means by which sin is forgiven and broken people are made whole.
All through history it has been the dying Jesus on the cross that has drawn people to Jesus..

That is why the cross is the great symbol of our faith.
We put crosses on our churches. We hang them on chains around our necks.
We print them on the covers of our hymn books.
We put crosses on the walls of our churches and homes.
There are more paintings of Jesus on the cross than any other event in history.

That is why we sing songs like “The Old Rugged Cross,” and “Alas, and Did My Savior Bleed and Did my Sovereign Die?” and “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.”

APPLICATION: THE MEANING OF CHRIST’S DEATH

Jesus came into the world to share the bitterness of the world’s sorrow and hatred and brokenness and cruelty.
Jesus’s death was more terrible than any death than has ever been experienced.
Jesus took all the sin and evil of the world to himself and suffered an unimaginably painful and disgusting death.
But we who believe look at that symbol of shame and disgrace and see in it the glory of God’s love.

The Bible expresses it this way: “He who knew no sin was made sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

So when we want to see the depths of God’s love, we look at Jesus on the cross.
That is why in olden times the saints used to say, “Jesus reigns from the cross.”

The Resurrection is the epilogue of the story—the happy ending.
The Resurrection tells us that the victory is won over sin, and death, and the devil.
Jesus was lifted up in glory on the cross and his glory continued as he was lifted up in resurrection and again as he was lifted up to the right hand of God the Father in Heaven.

A STORY

Many years ago a painter named Stenberg was commissioned to paint a large altarpiece for a church in a town in Germany. As an altarpiece, it was to be a painting of Jesus on the cross.
Although Stenberg was not particularly interested in Jesus, he was glad to get the job; it paid well and it gave him an opportunity to display his skill.
It was a big picture and took many weeks of hard work.

One day, seeking a change from the task, he decided to paint something else for a change. While walking about searching for an idea for a painting, he came upon a little gypsy girl. She was colorfully dressed and cute, and he decided she would be a good subject for a picture.

Stenberg asked the gypsy girl if she would come to his studio to pose for a picture. Her mother consented.
Stenberg painted her picture and it came out well.
As she was leaving she asked about the unfinished painting of the crucifixion she had seen in the studio.
Stenberg told her something of the story the picture and asked her if she’d like to pose again for another picture.
Several times after that the gypsy girl came to Stenberg’s studio to pose for the artist.
She always went to the unfinished altarpiece to see what new details had been added. She became increasingly interested in the story of Jesus—a story she had never heard before. Stenberg was patient with her questions and tried to explain the meaning of Christ’s suffering on the cross.
One day, looking at the figure of Christ the girl exclaimed: “You must love him very much for all he’s done for you!”
Those words went to Stenberg’s heart. He realized that he had never considered the meaning of Jesus’ death for him.

The story doesn’t tell what happened to the gypsy girl, but Stenberg, in his new-found love for Christ, went on to paint another picture of the crucifixion. Under this picture he painted the words: “All this I’ve done for you; what have you done for me?”

Do we love him as we should, considering what he’s done for us?

He’s done so much for us; what have we done for him?
Have we given ourselves to him body and soul—to love and serve him forever?

That’s what the crucified Christ asks of every one of us this Holy Week.

Strength for the Journey: Hebrews 11:8-11, 13-14, 16: This World Is Not My Home

Did you ever feel like a misfit because of your faith? That’s okay. God’s people have always felt like misfits, because this world is not our true home.

HEBREWS 11:8-11, 13-14, 16: THIS WORLD IS NOT MY HOME

INTRODUCTION

An American tourist visited the 19th century Polish rabbi, Hofetz Chaim. Astonished to see that the rabbi’s home was only a simple room, filled with books, plus a table and a bench, the tourist asked, “Rabbi, where is your furniture?”
“Where is yours?” replied the rabbi.
“Mine?” asked the puzzled American. “But I’m a visitor here. I’m only passing through.”
“So am I,” said Hofetz Chaim.

Christian believers have also often felt like they were only visitors on this earth. Surrounded by unbelievers, we just don’t fit in.
Just like in the old gospel song:

“This world is not my home;
I’m just a-passin’ through.
My treasures are laid up
Somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me
From Heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.”

My grandfather was an immigrant.
He came from Russia as a young man.
He told me about arriving in Kansas with no job and no money and no knowledge of the English language.
He was a stranger in a strange land.
He told me that he had gotten to a small town in Kansas and was sitting in the town square by the well, still wearing his embroidered peasant’s shirt, wondering what to do next.
A man named Weber, who knew his language, befriended him and helped him find work.
It must have been scary to be an immigrant in those days. It still is—scary and dangerous.

I. A story about Abraham

A. Hebrews 11:8-10: “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go to a place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was to go. By faith he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise.”

Abraham’s original country was Ur, of the Chaldeans.
I read about Ur in a book by a famous archeologist. Ur was in what we call Iraq; then it was called Sumeria.
It was one of the most civilized and advanced cities in the world 4000 years ago when Abraham was born there.
The archeologist wrote that they even had flush toilets. Flush toilets are something Charlotte didn’t have on the farm, even when she left home to go to college 65 years ago.

The Bible says that Abraham’s family moved the family to another famous city, Haran, where his father died.
Tradition tells us that Abraham’s father was a maker of idols.
Joshua 24.2 tells us that Terah, Abraham’s father, worshiped pagan gods.

Historians tell us that Haran was a center for worship of the moon god.
We don’t know whether Abraham, in his younger days worshiped idols or the moon, but the Bible tells us that it was at Haran that God spoke to Abraham and told him to take his family and go to a land that God would show him.

So Abraham went out, not knowing where he was going, except that God was going with him.
When Abraham arrived at Canaan, the land that would later be Israel, God promised that Abraham’s descendents would become a great nation, and in his descendents all the world would be blessed.

But, as the text I read you from Hebrews tells us, Abraham dwelt in the Land of Promise as a sojourner in a foreign land—we would call him an immigrant.
Abraham had servants and flocks and herds. The Bible says he was rich. But he was still a sojourner.
He never lived in a house.
He never owned a farm.
Abraham was always a stranger in the land in which he dwelt.
That is why the writer of Hebrews uses him as an illustration of how we disciples of Jesus are in our world.

B. Continuing to read in Hebrews of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and their families: “These all died in faith, not having received what was promised, but having seen it and greeted it from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland….they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city” (Hebrews 11:13-14, 16).

The writer of Hebrews uses Abraham as an example of how followers of Jesus were in the world in his day.
They lived in a world surrounded by unbelievers—who were often hostile to them.
They didn’t fit in.
They often suffered abuse from those around them.
They had a different values, hopes and loyalties.
In a sense, they even spoke a different language—the language of faith in God.
Their lord wasn’t Caesar, but Jesus.

Sometimes when people come to Jesus and begin to live for him, they find that their old friends lose interest in them.
We don’t share the same ideas about what constitutes pleasure—or success.

II. So the Bible often calls God’s people strangers or sojourners or exiles.

A. A psalmist writes: “I am a sojourner on earth; hide not thy commandments from me” (Psalm 119:19).
Another psalmist addresses God this way: “I am thy passing guest, a sojourner like all my fathers” (Psalm 39:12).

St. Peter addressed his first letter to scattered believers in some of the lands we now call Turkey as “the exiles of the Dispersion” (1 Peter 1:1).

St Paul wrote to his friends in the city of Philippi, reminding them that their citizenship was not on this earth. He wrote, “Our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation to that it will be like his glorious body” (Philippians 3:20).

Someone said of Abraham: “He went, not knowing where he was going, but only that he was going with God.”
So it is with us. We go through life—sometimes walking in the dark—but knowing that we are going with God.
And God will bring us safely home.

B. The passage I read from Hebrews says of Abraham: “He looked forward to the city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God” (v10).

Abraham never found that “City that had foundations, whose builder and maker is God.”
He had to be content with viewing it from afar.
Just so, we view our eternal home from afar.
Maybe we are close to it now, and we are looking forward to our arrival.

We read in the last book of the Bible about the Holy City, New Jerusalem that comes down from Heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.
People wonder, will we know one another in Heaven?
Surely we’ll have plenty of company— it will be a great reunion.
Yes, we’ll know one another and we will enjoy the companionship of our Lord Jesus and his family forever.

CONCLUSION

Dorotha told you a story at the beginning of our service. Now I have a story for you. It’s not a true story—although it could be. It is a parable.

In his book A Light Shines Bright in Babylon: A Handbook for Christian Business Owners, Buck Jacobs tells “The Parable of the Janitor and the CEO.” Following is a summary of his story.

A janitor had worked for the same company for 40 years. He did good work.
When people asked him why he did so much more than was necessary he would tell them that he was doing his work for Jesus, his best friend. Some laughed and just passed on but others were curious and let the janitor explain.

In the same company another man had also worked for 40 years. He had risen from salesman to CEO. The CEO was often asked to tell the story of his success to groups and organizations. His story emphasized that in our wonderful country success came from hard work, believing in yourself, and giving your all.

The CEO was active in civic organizations and government advisory panels. He was a member of the board of regents of the university and a member of his church, which he attended regularly, always sitting near the front. But church was not a major interest in his life. He remembered his father’s advice: “Son, two things you cannot mix with your business: politics and religion. They are like oil and water.” The CEO never gave it much thought because he was so busy with his business, his cottage at the beach, his golf and tennis clubs, board meetings and ski trips that there wasn’t much time left for much else, and the time flew by.

It happened that both men died the same day. And, as the scripture promises, each man in turn went to stand before the Lord Jesus and give an account his life.

The CEO went first. The Lord said to him, “My son, you have done well with your life. I gave you intelligence and opportunity. You worked hard and you took advantage of all that I set before you. You accomplished much. But son, all that you built must remain behind. Your homes and cars, your company and clubs were good, but they are not a part of my kingdom. The university you loved and served refused to honor me and it will burn up and be destroyed. Your money is not needed here. My son, you labored long and hard, but unwisely. You have gained the good, but missed the best.”

The janitor was downcast, fearful and in awe. If a CEO could receive no commendation from the Lord, what were his chances?

Then the Lord put his hands on the janitor’s shoulders. “Son, lift your eyes,” he said.
The janitor looked into the face of the Lord.
The smile on Jesus’s face gladdened his heart. “Look around,” said the Lord, “and tell me what you see.”

The janitor turned. To his amazement, he saw crowds of jubilant people coming toward him. Their expressions reflected a pure love and joy that astonished him. He turned to the Lord. “Lord, I recognize only a few. Who are the others?”

The Lord said, “Those you recognize are the ones you told of my love. The others are those they told. They are here now to thank you. Enter into the joy prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

Nearby, angels sang “Glory to God and to the Lamb” as the janitor was reunited with his friends and stepped into Paradise.

Experiencing God’s Love: Psalm 139: God Knows Me Better than I Know Myself

Is the thought that God knows you better than you know yourself scary or comforting? An ancient believer found great comfort in the idea that he was perfectly known by God.

PSALM 139: GOD KNOWS ME BETTER THAN I KNOW MYSELF

INTRODUCTION

How would you feel if you knew that your best friend could read your mind and know what you were thinking at every moment?
That might be very uncomfortable for many of us because we know that we have thoughts that we would be ashamed for others to know.

Many of us take great care to present our “best selves” to each other.
We are so anxious to have other people think well of us that we make every effort to hide our faults and display our virtues.

The only trouble with this effort is that none of us really knows ourselves very well.
Parts of me are hidden from myself.
People spend good money with psychiatrists and psychologists to have them tell them about their deepest thoughts and desires.
But maybe if we knew all about ourselves we would be even more depressed because then we would be confronted with the sin we keep buried within.

Long ago an ancient believer wrote a psalm in which he rejoices because God knows him inside and out—even better than he knows himself.

Read Psalm 139.1-6

I. The writer of this psalm finds great comfort in the knowledge that God knows his every thought.

A. I have read that in Victorian times parents would sometimes put on the wall of their child’s room a picture of a big eye with this Bible verse under it: “Thou God seest me” (Genesis 16.13 KJV).

This was supposed to remind the child that whatever he or she did, God was watching.
The parent hoped the picture of God’s watching eye would lead to good behavior, even when the parent wasn’t looking.
That eye probably frightened more children than it helped.

I remember that that one of the first memory verses I learned in Sunday school was that verse from Genesis: “Thou God seest me.”
I don’t know whether it improved my behavior or not.

B. Theologians explain to us that God is omniscient and omnipresent.

Omniscient means that God knows everything.
Omnipresent means that God is everywhere.

Our psalmist isn’t concerned that God knows everything or that God is everywhere.
What thrills him is that God knows him—inside and out.
What thrills him is that God is here, with him—right now, and always.

C. When I read this psalm, I think about a story of Jesus.

One day Jesus sat down on a well near the Samaritan city of Sychar. He was all alone.
A woman came to draw water.
They had a conversation and Jesus told her about the living water that he would give her that would gush up within her to eternal life.
In their conversation, as recorded in John 4, the woman confessed to Jesus that she had had five husbands, and that she was living now with a man who wasn’t her husband.
Then they talked about worship and Jesus explained that God is worshiped in spirit and in truth.
We don’t have all the conversation, but in the end the woman was so impressed that Jesus loved her, even though he knew all that she had ever done, that she left her water pot and ran into the town to tell her neighbors: “Come see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”
Even though we might think she had a lot to hide, she is excited and happy to meet a man who knew her so intimately.
I think that what gave her such comfort is that she knew that—even though he knew all the faults and mistakes and sins of her past life—he loved her anyway.
This woman had not known that kind of forgiving love before.

The ancient believer who wrote Psalm 139 was comforted to know that his God was so great and wise that nothing about him escaped God’s attention.
He was glad that he was so important to God that God had made a study of him, and God knew him better than he knew himself.

Maybe we have thoughts and actions in our life that we are ashamed of, and we know we can’t hide those thoughts and actions from God, but the great thing is that God loves us anyway.

II. Let’s look more closely at the psalm.

A. “O Lord, you have searched me and known me…” (v1).

Our psalmist realized, as we do, that he didn’t know himself very well at all.
Sometimes we may even lie to ourselves—and sometimes we may even believe our lies.
One of my prayers is that God will show me the sins that I am blind to, so that I come to him for forgiveness and cleansing.
One of my prayers comes from a hymn by Charles Wesley. It goes like this:

“Show me, as my soul can bear,
The depth of inbred sin;
All the unbelief declare,
The pride that lurks within;
Take me, whom thyself hast bought,
Bring into captivity
Every high aspiring thought
That would not stoop to thee.”

But I think there is something else going on here.
Maybe the psalmist has been misjudged and criticized and accused by others.

He finds comfort in knowing that God does not judge him so harshly, because God knows his heart, and God knows his limitations and God knows how much he loves his Lord and how earnestly he wants to please him.

B. “You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways” (v3).

God knows our past, and he knows where we are going.
He understands the road we are on.
He understands the difficulties we have faced and the difficulties we will face in the future.
And our Lord will be with us to the end of the road.

C. “Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely...” (v4).

Sometimes words come out of my mouth that I don’t intend.
They just seem to jump out to embarrass me.
But God knows me better than I know myself.
I never surprise him.
I have secrets from other people, and even from myself.
But I have no secrets from God.

D. “You hem me in behind and before, and lay your hand upon me…” (v5).

God has been with me all the way, watching me, hemming me in, keeping me from danger, and guiding me along life’s road.

When the psalmist says, “He lays his hand upon me,” This is what I think he means:
God chose me, he draws me to himself, he makes me his own, he is by my side forever, and when I wander, he will bring me back.

E. “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it” (v6).

The psalmist trembles at the wisdom of God.
But he is not terrified; he is filled with wonder and gratitude because he knows that God loves him.

Toward the end of the psalm the psalmist says,

“How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
I try to count them—they are more than the sand;
I come to the end—I am still with you” (vv17-18).

As a dear child is always in the thoughts of his or her mother, so we are always in the thoughts of our God.
God always keeps us in mind and is always caring and feeling what we are feeling.

Recently a friend said to me, “I don’t like to pray for myself. I figure that God has more important things to attend to.”
No, God has you in mind as if you were the only person in the world.
God is infinite. He has each of us in his mind as if each of us were the only person in the world.

And God remembers me, even when I am forgetting him.
I may feel myself to be far from God, but he is near to me.

CONCLUSION
Finally, at the very end of the psalm, the ancient believer looks into his heart.
He welcomes God’s searching gaze and says,

“Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my thoughts.
See if there is any wicked way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting” (vv17-18).

Why does he invite God to search him and know him, when he has already professed the certainty that God already knows him so thoroughly?
I think that in these last lines our believer is asking God to show him his heart as God sees it.
We really know ourselves only as we look at ourselves from God’s point of view.

Boldly he asks God to show him any wickedness lurking within and lead him in the ways of God—the way everlasting.”

In these last lines, the psalmist is in a humble mood.
He doesn’t shrink from God’s gaze. He longs for it.
He knows that his only hope is that God will keep his eye upon him and that God will reveal God’s self to himself and lead him to his glorious destiny, which he calls “the way everlasting.”

St. Paul wrote in one of his letters:

“Now we see in a mirror dimly,
but then we will see face-to-face.
Now I know only in part;
then I will know fully,
even as I have been fully known” (1 Corinthians 13.12)

It is sad for the unbeliever to come to the end of life and think, “It is almost over; life will end soon.”
It is not sad for the believer to come to the end of life and think, “This temporary part of life is almost over; real life will begin soon.”