Deuteronomy 6:4-9: What Does It Mean to Love God with All Your Heart?

INTRODUCTION

In 1945 Rabbi Eliezer Silver was sent to Europe to help reclaim Jewish children who had been hidden during the Holocaust with non-Jewish families.

Some of these children had lived with Gentile families for years. Many were so young they could hardly remember the life before they were rescued.

Here is how he was able to discover the Jewish children.

He would go to gatherings of children and loudly proclaim:

“Hear, O Israel:

The Lord our God is one Lord;

 and you shall love the Lord your God

with all your heart,

and with all your soul,

and with all your might.”

Then he would look at the faces of the children for those with tears in their eyes.

The children with tears in their eyes were those with a distant memory of their mother putting them to bed each night with these words.

This was the first prayer that little Jewish children have been taught since ancient times—long before the time of Jesus.

Mary probably put little Jesus to bed with these words.

It is traditional for Jews to say these words twice daily—just before dawn and just after sunset.

When they say these words they are supposed to say them slowly and distinctly, and they are instructed to put their hands over their eyes so as to avoid any distraction.

And according to custom, these are the last words the Jewish believer will say before death.

The story is told of a Jewish soldier who threw himself on a live hand grenade to save his comrades. And as he did so his comrades heard him say these words.

We read that Jesus quoted these words as recorded in Matthew 22 and Mark 12, and the scribe quoted the words to Jesus in Luke 10.

I. Deuteronomy 6:4-9 is the most important part of scripture to Jewish believers.

A. The entire passage reads:

Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord;

and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,

and with all your soul,

and with all your might.

And these words which I command you this day shall be upon your heart;

and you shall teach them diligently to your children,

and shall talk of them when you sit in your house,

and when you walk by the way,

and when you lie down,

and when you rise.

And you shall bind them as a sign upon your hand,

and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.

And you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.

The Jews call this the Shema Yisrael after the first two words, “Hear, O Israel.”

Usually it’s called simply the Shema, which means in Hebrew, “hear.”

B. The Shema was considered a confession of faith—and a prayer.

In saying it the believer confessed—in a world of many gods—that he or she belonged to the one true God.

The believer professed the intention to love the Lord his God with all his or her being.

Prayer doesn’t have to be asking for something or thanking God for something.

Prayer can simply be affirming a truth about God—reminding myself of what it means to belong to God and to be one of God’s children.

C. Notice how important this prayer is as it is presented in Deuteronomy:

These words are to be upon their hearts.

They are to teach them diligently to their children.

They are to talk of them when they sit in their house, when they walk by the way, when they lie down, and when they rise.

They are to bind them as a sign upon their hand,

They are to be as frontlets between their eyes.

And they are to write them on the doorposts of their houses and on their city gates.

Christians and most Jews think of binding them as a sign on their hands, and having them as frontlets between their eyes and writing them upon the doorposts of their houses as figurative language.

But orthodox Jews came to take the words literally.

Even today orthodox Jews recite the prayer with little boxes containing these words tied above their foreheads and on their left arms. They are called “phylacteries.”

By the door of his house, the Jewish believer has a little box attached to the doorpost called a “mezuzah,” which contains these words. They believe that the Mezuzah protects the home.

When the believer leaves his house, he touches the mezuzah and repeats the words.

II. Why does God say “heart,” and “soul,” and “might”?

A. The “heart” in scripture never means the organ in your chest that pumps blood.

To the ancient person the heart meant the center of your life.

The heart was the part of you that you think with, feel with decide with.

Evil desires come from the heart.

The heart can be disobedient, hard, faithless, dull, and far from God.

Jeremiah said, “The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked” (17:9).

But the heart is also where God dwells with you.

In Ephesians 3:17 Paul prays that God will grant the believers to be “strengthened with might through his Spirit in the inner man”—that means the heart—“that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

The heart is where we keep the Word of God: “Thy Word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee.”

So when God asks us to love him with all of our heart, he means with all our intelligence, all our feelings, and all our will.

B. After it says to love the Lord your God with all your heart, it says, “…and with all your soul.”

I used to think of my soul as the little invisible thing inside me—about the size of a walnut—that flip-flops up to heaven when I die. But your soul in the Bible is the whole you—your whole life.

Jesus said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will you give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29).

In the gospels the words “soul” and “life” translate the same word in Greek.

Jesus says, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life (or “soul”—same word) will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it. For what does it profit a man, to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? (or “soul”—same word).

So my soul is really another way to say myself, my whole self.

C. Then God tells us to love him with all our might. By this we see that our love for God must be complete—with all the powers of our mind and body. With our time and money and energy.

D. Maybe I should remind you that in the Bible love is not mainly a feeling. Love, in the Bible, is a way of behaving.

To love God isn’t to have fond feelings about him.

God isn’t telling us to feel the strong emotion we call “being in love.”

Love is a way of behaving.

To love God means to put him first.

It means that I want to please him in all that I do.

It means obedience and trust and service.

It means loving those whom God loves—my family, my friend, my neighbor, and even my enemy.

CONCLUSION

Do you remember that motto that we used to see on the walls of many homes: “Christ is the head of this house, the unseen guest at every meal, the silent listener to every conversation”?

I may be thinking about whatever occupies my mind, but I am always aware that Jesus is with me.

He is listening to my conversation.

He is sitting beside me while I watch TV, or read a book.

Jesus is my companion.

I’m not thinking about him all the time, but he’s always there in the background of my mind.

And if something good happens, I have the impulse to say, “Thank you, Jesus.”

And if a problem arises, it’s just natural to say, “Help me, Jesus.”

And to keep Jesus in mind we pray every day.

We call to mind scripture. We go to services. We speak of Christ to others.

To help them feel that Christ is present some believers keep a picture of Jesus on the wall.

Others display a scripture verse prominently in their room.

Catholic Christians hang a crucifix by their bed.

Or we may keep our Bible on a table where we will see it often, and where we can, any time we like, pick it up and read.

My grandmother used to sing hymns while she did her housework.

Here is a prayer that I use. It is from St. Columbanus, who died in AD 615:

I beg you, most loving Savior,

to reveal yourself to me,

so that knowing you, I may desire you,

and desiring you, I may love you,

and loving you I may ever hold you in my thoughts.

When we are ever holding Jesus in our thoughts, we are learning to love the Lord our God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our might.

Romans 8:28: Do All Things Really Work Together for Good?

INTRODUCTION:

Have you ever noticed that sincere, earnest Christian believers experience most of the same troubles and tribulations as other people?

Our teeth decay. We get cancer. Our hair falls out. We get arthritis and diabetes and heart disease, at about the same rate as everyone else.

Sometimes our marriages fail.

Christian believers lose their jobs. Sometimes our children die before we do.

We had a nephew who died of cancer. His grandmother wept: “Why couldn’t it have been me? I’ve lived a long time, and he was so young!”

Tragedies happen to us and to those we love—and we wonder.

Why? Why? Why? Why does God let these things happen? It would be so easy for him to make our lives all good by just tweaking it here and there with a few little—very little miracles.

In the early centuries Christian believers had all these problems and the added one of persecution for their faith.

St. Paul warned the believers: “Through many tribulations we must enter the Kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22).

Believers through the ages have taken comfort from Romans 8:28: “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

But is it true? Is it really true? Sometimes when sorrow presses us down, it’s hard to believe that all things work together for good.

I. Often this verse is misunderstood. And when it’s misunderstood, it can really stumble Christians. It can make it hard to believe in the goodness of God.

A. First of all, I want to tell you some things this verse does not mean:

It doesn’t mean that everything that happens is good.

Plenty of things are bad in this world—really evil.

Evil doesn’t come from God.

This world is a battlefield between God and the powers of darkness.

Paul had a painful affliction. He called it “a thorn in his flesh,” but he didn’t say it came from God: he called it “a messenger of Satan to torment me.”

The Bible says: “We know that we are God’s children, and that the whole world lies under the power of the evil one.” (1 John 5:19).

“All things work together for good…” doesn’t mean, as some people say that “everything happens for a reason,” as if God intended every tragedy to happen for some purpose of his own.

Sometimes the “reason” things happen is because of human sin: “He lied to her and broke her heart.”

Sometimes the “reason” something bad happens has to do with the laws of nature. “The car’s brakes failed. It careened into the path of an oncoming truck.”

Another thing Romans 8:28 doesn’t mean is that whatever happens is God’s will.

Lots of things happen that aren’t God’s will.

It’s not God’s will that people sin.

Plagues and tragic accidents aren’t God’s will.

People make stupid mistakes that cause grief and sorrow.

Through no one’s fault babies are born with birth defects.

These things happen because there’s randomness—what we call chance—in nature.

Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus. God weeps with us in our sorrows.

B. Just because we are believers—doesn’t mean that we lead charmed lives.

Imagine a world in which all our prayers were answered in just the way we want.

Imagine if good people never experienced disease, or disappointment, or struggle with work, or relationships, or weakness, or old age.

Imagine if all of us believers lived always tranquil lives—no disappointments, no stresses, no loss or sorrow—and then we would grow very old, still in perfect health, and one night fall asleep and wake up in heaven.

Wouldn’t that be a wonderful world? Or would it?

What would we miss in a world like that?

We would lose our opportunities to gain wisdom.

I walked a mile with pleasure;

She chattered all the way,

But I was none the wiser, for all that she did say.

I walked a mile with sorrow,

And not a word said she,

but, O, the things I learned that day

When sorrow walked with me.

We would miss the opportunity to grow strong in faith through our struggles.

We would lose our opportunity to learn compassion because sorrow is God’s classroom for compassion.

We would miss the opportunity to prove that our faith is real.

C. In a perfect world our lives might even be less joyful.

I once taught in a school with a much older woman who seemed to me to be very wise and good.

Although she was cheerful, she had experienced a great sorrow in her life.

Her name was Goldia.

Goldia had always looked forward to being a grandmother.

But one day her husband and two daughters were killed in an auto accident. She was left alone.

She got great comfort from a poem by Edward Markham, which she told me.

It goes like this:

Defeat may serve as well as victory

To shake the soul and let the glory out.

When the great oak is straining in the wind,

The boughs drink in new beauty, and the trunk

Sends down a deeper root on the windward side.

Only the soul that knows the mighty grief

Can know the might rapture. Sorrows come

To stretch out the spaces in the heart for joy.

D. A woman named Peggy lost her 28-year-old daughter to cancer. As she mourned and suffered she poured her broken heart out to God. She offered herself and her suffering to God just as Jesus did on the cross.

That hasn’t made her suffering any easier, but now everywhere she goes she meets people who have lost adult children to death. Peggy sits next to them on airplanes, meets them in the supermarket, and bumps into them on vacation. She shares their suffering and offers them Christ and his comfort. Her suffering, united with Christ’s suffering has meant salvation for many.

When you are experiencing pain, offer your pain to God. Ask him to use it for the comfort of others.

So often it is people who have known great sorrow or great pain who have great sympathy for others in need and are most useful in the world.

II. So what does it mean that “All things work together for good…”?

A. It means that God in his infinite power and wisdom can somehow fit even disasters into his plans for goodness for the people he loves.

He can weave bad things together to make good outcomes.

There’s a story in the Bible that is often used to illustrate this truth. It is the story of Joseph.

Joseph’s tragedies began while he was still a lad. You know the story.

He was sold into slavery by his jealous brothers.

As a slave in Egypt he was falsely accused of a shameful crime and put into prison—where he languished for several years.

But through a series of improbable events he came into a position of power and authority and was instrumental in saving thousands of lives—both of the Egyptians and of his family.

At the end of the story Joseph’s brothers come to him to beg forgiveness for their terrible deed. Joseph weeps and says, “Fear not for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today” (Genesis 50:19-20).

Sin is sin. It was not good that my friend Jim was a hard-core, career criminal. It isn’t good that he was a thief and a violent man. It isn’t good that he hurt many people.

But it is good that he found Christ. And as a humble, repentant, Christian believer he can go into prisons and tell the good news of the gospel with special effectiveness—because he has been where his hearers are. God has brought good out of evil—not the good that could have been, but good nevertheless.

Many times people are convinced of the truth of the gospel by watching how believers respond to pain and sorrow.

When we become old and pain and sickness come, and many of the things we used to enjoy are no longer available—now is our chance to show that God is real.

You have strength from God. Let people know. The strongest evidence for the truth of God is the courage and hope he gives his people in the midst of suffering.

B. A pastor tells about a woman in her congregation who became engaged to be married.

She was so excited. She told her pastor, “I’m 60 years old, and I’m getting married for the first time!”

A week later, the woman was hospitalized with complications from a cold.

Then she had a stroke. A few days later she died.

When the pastor visited woman’s mother to plan the funeral, the grief-stricken mother’s first words were: “It just didn’t turn out right.”

Sometimes things “just don’t turn out right.”

You have had this experience. I have had this experience. Sometimes it just doesn’t turn out right—not in our lifetimes. But there is another world beyond this. And we have faith that God is able to make things right in the end.

And that is what Romans 8:28 means. God will make it right in the end.

CONCLUSION

One thing more. Our verse ends with words “…to those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

It’s not automatic.

Part of it depends on us. Sorrow can make us bitter; sorrow can make us give up on God.

A proverb has it: “The same sun sweetens the apples and sours the milk.”

Do we respond to trouble by clinging more closely to God?

Do our sorrows make us more determined to live for God?

Does our sorrow make us more sympathetic to others who suffer—more eager to help?

Do our troubles make heaven more real to us and the things of earth less important?

Our troubles can mold us into Christlikeness.

We can share with Christ the sorrows of the world.

A thousand years from now we will look back and say, “It was good. God made everything work out right.”

Philippians 1:20-21: "To Me, to Live Is Christ"

INTRODUCTION:

The apostle Paul was sitting in prison; we’re not sure where—maybe in Rome.

He was writing a letter to some dear friends in the Greek city of Philippi.

It seems that he had only visited Philippi once, but he had found a few people hungry to know God and had left a thriving community of faithful Christian believers there.

When they heard that he was in prison and in need, they had sent him a gift of money, and they had even sent one of their members, a man named Epaphroditus, to serve him while he was imprisoned.

Paul begins his letter by telling them his pleasure in remembering these friends so far away and assuring them he thanks God for all of them and continues to pray for them.

He writes, “This is my prayer for you that your love may overflow more and more in all knowledge and full insight, to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God” (1:9-11).

Later on in the letter he makes this declaration of his purpose in life: vv20-21: “It is my eager expectation and hope that I shall not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (vv20-21).

I. When he says that his eager expectation and hope is that he will not be at all ashamed, he is declaring his intention to be faithful to the end, no matter what happens.

A. He will not be ashamed because he will not have reason to ever look back with regret on missed opportunities.

We know that Paul was always bold—so bold that many times he was arrested.

He had been whipped several times with the standard 39 lashes.

He had been imprisoned on several occasions before now.

Once he was stoned and left for dead.

But he never gave up.

He was determined to live faithfully, no matter the cost. And his sufferings weren’t over when he wrote this letter.

Eventually he would give his life to seal his testimony.

B. When he says that the aim of his life: that “now and always Christ may be honored in my body, whether by life or by death,” the word translated here “honored” is the Greek word megalunō, which means “to magnify,” “to enlarge.”

We see that word in Mary’s song in Luke: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God, my Savior.”

How might Christ be magnified in our lives?

Christ may be magnified by how we handle adversity—does sorrow or pain make us bitter…complaining…despondent?

Or does adversity make us hold tighter to God? In trouble can we find strength in God to be cheerful and trusting?

How can Christ be magnified in our relationships? When we are courteous, helpful, sympathetic, generous—Christ is magnified in our relationships.

Christ can be magnified in what we talk about. Does anything in your conversation reflect your love for God? Do you ever mention your faith?

Paul’s desire was that when people looked at him they would think of the greatness of Jesus.

Sometimes we want to impress others.

Some of us wonder about the impression we make on others.

We want them to think: “She is nice,” or “he is smart,” or “she is pretty,” or he is “talented.”

Paul wanted people to look at him and say, “Jesus is wonderful!”

II. We have talked about verse 20. Now we go on to the next sentence. Paul writes, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

A. Here is what I think Paul means when he says, “For me to live is Christ...”

Paul is a man in love. He is so in love with Jesus that his life revolves around Christ.

I have known people whose life revolved around music. They might say, “For me, to live is music.”

I have known people whose life revolved around business. They might say, “For me, to live is business.”

I have known people whose life revolved around learning. They might say, “For me, to live is learning.”

I have known people whose life revolved around travel. They might say, “For me, to live is travel.”

I have known people whose life revolved—for a time, at least—around a sweetheart. A girl might say, “For me to live, is Johnny,” or a boy may say, ”For me to live is Carolyn.”

For Paul, Jesus is always in the front of his mind.

Paul wants his whole life to magnify Jesus, to make Christ so attractive to other people so that others will want to know him as he does.

That is why Paul was willing to endure hunger, danger, persecution, and pain to bring the gospel of salvation to as many places as possible.

It always costs something to follow Jesus. And it is a price true believers are willing to pay, because of our love for him.

B. Paul says, “For me to live is Christ,” and then he adds, “and to die is gain.”

For an unbeliever death is great loss.

A woman I knew in a nursing home told me once: “I don’t know how people can live without God.” I don’t either. Especially when we get old. How can you live without hope?

For the one who lives for the pleasures of this life, death means the end—the loss of everything, or every hope or expectation.

But death for the believer is gain because death is the doorway we pass through to be with our Savior.

He continues: “If it is to be life in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account” (vv22-24)

Paul says that the only reason he is content to remain in his body on earth is that that means greater usefulness for those he served.

Paul had such a vision of the joy of heaven and the pleasure of being with Jesus and the saints and angels in glory that he longed to depart and be with Christ.

Some of us have had this experience. We’ve had enough of the tribulations of earth. We long to be free.

The older I get, the more real heaven becomes.

Imagine yourself in the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, sitting on the green grass beside the river of the water of life.

Imagine yourself with your dear ones—and with the saints and angels.

Imagine the time when every tear will be wiped away and death will be no more.

And especially, imagine yourself finally meeting Jesus and seeing him face to face.

We used to have a record we played on our Victrola when I was a child. An evangelist named Gypsy Smith sang “The Glory Song.” It was a scratchy old record, but we played it many times. It went like this:

When all my labors and trials are o’er,

And I am safe on that beautiful shore,

Just to be near the dear Lord I adore

Will through the ages be glory for me.

O that will be glory for me,

Glory for me, glory for me;

When by his grace I shall look on his face,

That will be glory, be glory for me.

CONCLUSION

When Paul wrote these words he was assured that he had yet more work to do.

It appears that he did live at least a few more years.

For us, it may be that most of our work is over.

We can look back on lives touched for Jesus, on others we have blessed.

Jesus promised that there will be rewards for faithful service.

If we have been faithful in the trust Jesus gave us, we can look forward to his words: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your master.”

God means for us to look forward with joy to our resurrection life with Jesus.

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.