A Touch

As I was reading in the Gospel of Mark today, I was reminded of a story; and as usual, when that happens I need to write it down.

The passage was the gospel of Mark, chapter 1:29-45.

“And immediately after they had come out of the synagogue, they came into the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John.

Now Simon’s mother-in-law was lying sick with a fever, and immediately they spoke to Him about her. And He came to her and raised her up, taking her by the hand, and the fever left her, and she waited on them.

And when evening had come, after the sun had set, they began bringing to Him all who were ill and those who were demon-possessed. And the whole city had gathered at the door.

And He healed many who were ill with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and He was not permitting the demons to speak, because they knew who He was.

And in the early morning, while it was still dark, He arose and went out and departed to a lonely place, and was praying there. 
And Simon and his companions hunted for Him; and they found Him, and said to Him, “Everyone is looking for You.”

And He said to them, “Let us go somewhere else to the towns nearby, in order that I may preach there also; for that is what I came out for.”

And He went into their synagogues throughout all Galilee, preaching and casting out the demons.

And a leper came to Him, beseeching Him and falling on his knees before Him, and saying to Him, “If You are willing, You can make me clean,”

And moved with compassion, He stretched out His hand, and touched him, and said to him, “I am willing, be cleansed.”

And immediately the leprosy left him and he was cleansed.

And He sternly warned him and immediately sent him away, and He said to him, “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, for a testimony to them.”

But he went out and began to proclaim it freely and to spread the news about, to such an extent that Jesus could no longer publicly enter a city, but stayed out in unpopulated areas; and they were coming to Him from everywhere.”

*A story came to mind as I read certain verses from this passage and the remembrance that I saw firsthand what a touch can do toward the spiritual healing of someone.  

When I was growing up, we lived next door to a family of boys. Theirs was a rough home life with a mousy little mother and a loud obnoxious father, who was chronically unfaithful, and habitually abusive toward his wife and children; we saw this first hand. 

The youngest boy in the family was a year younger than me, and during the course of our growing up years, we joined the other kids in the neighborhood playing ball in the vacant lot across the street and riding bikes all over town. But as we grew into our Jr. High and High School years, the differences in our lives became apparent, and the childhood friendship waned and ended. I’m not proud to admit this, but he was a boy, after all, and my friends were mostly girls. He became coarse and rough, and yet, looking back, cowardly and needy…..of male companionship.

As his older brothers grew up they ran with the rougher crowds, smoking, drinking, and when the drug culture really took off, that as well.

In the midst of all that Billy seemed lost. Always his mother’s baby, he was struggling to find a place. The guys in school didn't like him, didn't feel comfortable around him, and mocked, teased and picked on him, while at home…..well, I can’t imagine at home. 

After he graduated, he joined the military, and the last I had heard, had settled on the west coast.  My mother moved to another part of town away from his parents but continued to run into Bill’s mother here and there. 

Eventually, my mom told me that his mother had started attending one of the churches in town, and we were all glad to hear this. 

But several years later not long after I married, my mom shared with me that Bill had come back to town, and was living with his folks. He was ill, apparently with AIDS, and had come home to receive his care and treatments close to his family.

This didn't really surprise me. Bill had turned to the gay lifestyle for all the obvious reasons they give, but for all the good it did to analyze the reasons and whys, he was now dying.

One weekend when we were home Mother and I were headed to my sisters for dinner on a Sat. morning, we stopped by the grocery store in that small town I grew up in and when we pulled up to the curb to park the car, Mother commented that Bill’s mother was sitting in the car next to us, and sure enough as I got out of the car to run into the store, Bill came out of the store with a carton of cigarettes.

We stopped and looked at each other, grinning and confirming that yes, we were who we thought the other one was. He was a shadow of his former self, frighteningly thin, and pale as a ghost. When I stepped forward to give him a hug, he seemed surprised but eagerly responded when he realized I meant it. There we were, two play mates from childhood, seeing each other after years and years of life.

As we pulled apart, I asked how he was doing, and he admitted that it wasn't too good, but he was hanging in there. He struggled to look me in the eye, so I went over to the car and bent down to tell his mother hello, and as I did I noticed tears in her eyes as she smiled at me and said hello. Bill got into the car, and as I told them each goodbye, she reached out and took my hand squeezing it and brimming over and whispered: “Thank you.” 

When I got out of the store and back into our car, my mother was beyond upset. “You wash your hands as soon as you can!”  she said. I assured her that you could not get AIDS from touching someone, but she was adamant, “I don’t care, you wash up anyway!”  I could tell it scared her to death.

The above passage of scripture reminded me of this story today as I read it.

Vs. 32 “And when evening had come, after the sun had set, they began bringing to Him all who were ill and those who were demon-possessed. And the whole city had gathered at the door.”

Why wait till sunset, under the cover of darkness? Because in that time, those who were ill, or considered possessed were considered unclean, and therefore untouchables. The only times they were able to be out and about was under the cover of darkness when everyone else was home in bed.

Then in verse 40: “And a leper came to Him, beseeching Him and falling on His knees before Him, and saying to Him, “If You are willing, You can make me clean.”

I have checked this translation with several others, and they all say the same, “You can make me clean.”

Healing did not seem to be the issue so much as the whole idea of cleanness; Cleanness meant restoration, acceptance, inclusion, and relationships.

“You can make me so I am acceptable to the rest of society, so I will be included, and can have friends and family again.”  I wonder if that is what he was really saying when he asked Jesus to make him clean?

The next verse is what says it all though:

“And moved with compassion, He stretched out His hand, AND TOUCHED HIM, and said to him, “I am willing; be cleansed.”

Jesus touched the untouchable.

Imagine the feeling of that man who had not had a human touch in years when he felt someone touch him for the first time.

Bill did die of AIDS, but not before he accepted Christ as his Savior. For you see in the story of the family, that small church, that his mother had started attending a few years prior, hired a new pastor; a guy new to the area who knew nothing of the town, or the people, or the stories that went with them.

When he found out that Mary, a part of his church, had a son who was dying, he went to call on them……every week……and toward the end, every day. He called on this family who for years had sat in a shadow of reputation and gossipy assumptions, but who desperately needed to be told of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Every week he went and ministered Jesus to them, and before Bill died, he prayed and received Jesus as his Savior,  and not long after  Bill’s death, his dad started attending church and eventually walked the aisle to the altar and gave his heart to Jesus as well.

I’m glad the preacher at the church had greater faith in God than he did in the mistakes and sorrows and reputations of people. I’m glad he did not know the stories, or if he did he ignored them and went out and ‘touched’ them anyway.

This story is a constant reminder to me of God’s grace and power and that time is not our enemy if God is on our side.  It is also a reminder that prejudice and bigotry are born out of ignorance and assumptions, something the church should not tolerate. It also reminds me to check that log, before I go fishing for splinters.  But mostly it reminds me how desperately some people need the “touch of Jesus”.

*names have been changed 

Social Ill's

Abortion, Civil Rights, Aids. They are coming to the surface in every area; the news, education, our personal lives.  Yet when I read scripture, they don’t seem to be addressed generally, but in specific incidents where the person is more important than the issue.

That is the way God intended it, but unfortunately we as the Church and as individuals try to ride it on both sides. We fail when we deal with any social issue from the perspective of the culture around us, but if we address is as Christ wanted us to, then perhaps the culture around us is affected and altered, just as it was in Jesus day when he brought God into the center of the issue.

As I hear more and more about these current issues painted with the broad stroke, I am reminded of people and the stories of their lives where the issue became personal, and policy didn't seem to matter at the time of having to deal with it.

Once again a story—

I accepted Christ when I was 17 years old, living in a small town of about 1500 where there were no black people, there were two “beer joints”, and one stop light. Anything that happened that would have been considered a social issue was NEVER brought to the light of day. Oh yes, there was gossip, and innuendo, but the facts, and truth, seldom came out.

I lived in what some would have considered a Utopian society on the outside that affected my thinking and my life. Yes I was naive, to put it mildly.

When I graduated High School and planned to attend college at one of the big state universities that was four hours from home, I had absolutely no idea what I was headed for. They might as well have dropped me in the middle of New York City.

To say I was “exposed” to sin is an absolute understatement. Sex was prevalent, smoking and drinking, the casual use of drugs, poured in on me and I had absolutely no idea how to deal with any of it. Not wanting to appear as naive as I was, I tried to fit in where I could, to a certain point, but there was a point where the confusion rained down and I couldn't seem to rationalize the issues in my mind.

I met many girls who professed to be followers of Jesus, who had grown up attending church just like I had, but for some reason were going out on Fri and Sat nights with their boyfriends and sorority sisters and getting drunk, high, and not coming home. They would attend Bible study on Wed. evening in a dorm room, and go party on Sat. night. They didn't get up and go to church on Sunday.

I would say I eventually distanced myself from them, but the truth of it was, that just like my friends back home, who I found out years later where doing much the same thing, they simply excluded me, and left me behind.

I continued to attend Bible Study on our floor and the gal who led it was actually the older sister of one of the girls who lived next door to me, and had attended one of the big churches in Wichita. They were fun, light hearted girls, who were in a sorority, and had lots and lots of friends, and people to hang out and do things with. Our Bible Studies were light, nothing too meaty, but always social, and fun, and you came away feeling good…….yeah.

During this time I got a job; a part time one at the Student Health Center. I filed papers, and files for a few hours a week, but it supplemented my money and it required no skill except knowing the alphabet.

One day as I was filing, the leader of our Bible Study came to the window to check in for an appt. I saw her, but she didn’t see me. Things were much different back then, there were no computers at every desk, a select few had them and otherwise, things were done manually with paper forms and paper documentation. The forms the kids filled out were given to the Dr. to mark with diagnosis, and given to the computer entry person to put the information into the computer, where the same slip of paper was pasted into their file and I filed it. I really never was privy to personal, confidential information; or at least I wasn’t supposed to be.

After my friend checked in, I commented to one of the ladies that I worked with that I knew her and who she was. Wondering aloud what she was there for and hoping that she was O.K.

As I continued to file over the next few hours, a fresh pile of paper work was brought back to be entered in the computer, pasted in the files, so I could file them away. When my co-worker started to go through the papers, she asked me about my friend, “didn't you say she leads your Bible study?” she asked. When I replied that she did, she asked me if she was married. I said, “Oh no!, She is only 20 years old, she is in XYZ sorority.”  “Well”, the lady replied, “she is pregnant.” 

HIPPA hadn’t been passed yet.

This surprised me, but I wasn't shocked. My Jr. year of HS, a girl got pregnant out of wed-lock, and the students had gotten together a petition to demand that the school board allow her to remain in school. This was nothing new to me.

But the thing was my Bible Study leader never had that baby. School continued for the next 6 months, and she never gained weight, began to show, and never had a baby. Her younger sister never said anything to any of us about her sister going to have a baby. In fact she continued to lead our Bible Study, although not as regularly, but she was there.

I had three older sisters who had children, I knew the process of pregnancy, and I knew that if she was truly pregnant, and I had seen the slip of paper that got pasted in her file and the Dr. had signed it, she would have eventually started showing signs, which she never did.

It took me awhile to realize what had happened, and how it had probably been handled.

A former roommate of mine, also a professing Christian, had an abortion just a few years later, and her sister explained to me how she had driven up to Manhattan and picked her up, taken her over to KU, had the abortion, and then stayed with her for the weekend. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that this is what had probably been done with my Bible Study leader too.

  

I was confused. Abortion was something that I had heard about, but was not openly spoken of.

But here was a beautiful sweet young girl, who was teaching others how to read and study the Bible, but obviously wasn't internalizing any of what she was reading and teaching.

At first I wanted to blame the boy, but as I got older, and had my own issues with guys, I realized that she was equally responsible and therefore to be held as accountable as any guy.

As I continued through college and later in life, I have encountered several girls who have shared that in their younger years had abortions. Girls who went to church all their lives, and who even led, or taught Bible studies and Sunday School classes. These girls, I figure needed love, and were looking for it in the arms of a guy whom they had misread, and found themselves in a predicament that they simply couldn't face. The rejection of a guy who they found out or knew wouldn't want to share this responsibility with them, the facing parents who they knew would be disappointed and devastated by the news, and the altering of their futures and lives for the rest of their days; this was something that the abortion industry assured them could be fixed, so they did it.

I never knew what happened with too many of these girls. I don’t know how it impacted them and their lives and futures, but I know how the knowledge of them making this particular choice after saying they were Christians, and trying to be someone that supposedly didn't believe in and would never do such a thing, impacted me. My own response is all I can be responsible for.

I didn't turn from God, but I began to see a much broader picture of things than I had before. I began to see the grey areas that so many people live in, and I began to step into those areas myself.

Because of the personal stories, and affects of the social issues that I've seen and encountered, I have a hard time when I hear the politicians take something so personal and try to make it a blanket issue that will be dealt with on a grand scale.

The individuality of the individual is lost, and person by person needs are never met.

Yes, the church has failed, we as individual Christians have failed to show the love of God to people in a way that they won’t go searching for it in places and people that would and will continue to only hurt and scar them for the rest of their lives. 

When politics and social issues collide with the church, something is lost. Read the Gospels. Over and over the religious leaders who were trying to appease Rome that they might keep their “institution” intact, clashed with Jesus. Not over the issue, but over the treatment of the individuals involved. For Jesus saw the stray, the wounded, the sick, and downtrodden as one person at a time and ministered and healed them as such. Oh yes, He did miracles on a grand scale, feeding 5000 is no small thing, but overall when you read the Gospels, they are a record of the one on one encounters of people with the Living God. 

When the church becomes so much of an institution that it fails to teach and stress one on one mentoring, discipleship and relationship, it isn't the reflection of Jesus anymore, but the very institution that Jesus constantly warned the church leaders about.

Eventually that very institution conspired with Rome and had Jesus killed because they saw Him as such a threat to their way of doing things that they couldn't let it continue. Somewhere along the way, the relationship that God wanted with his people took a back seat to the institution of God.

Small victories are won in the trenches of relationships. The kingdom of heaven started with 12 men and a hand full of followers who without mass communication and technology went out and shared the power and impact and results that knowing the Risen Christ had on their lives. They lived it before people, and it changed the world.

There is no reason for our impotence, except without relationship WITH Christ, we can’t really have relationship with anyone else FOR Christ.

Perhaps this is what our Bible study leader didn't know either. Sharing what Jesus can do and reading the Bible is good, but having a relationship with Jesus is what enables and empowers us to resist the desires that draw us into sin. Demonstrating relationship with Christ is what shows the world that we are different, we approach things differently.

Prayer, relationships, prayer, Bible reading, prayer, fasting, prayer………relationship with God.

A Gift of Time

Can you remember the last time you were simply handed extra time with someone one you loved? 

Yesterday, Audrey went home to Phoenix, but not until we had made the hour and a half drive to the airport did she receive the e-mail telling her that the flight had been cancelled and she wouldn’t leave for another 4 hours.

After she checked her bags and overheard a heated exchange between the passenger in line in front of her did she realize that her flight was delayed. As we sat and she read the e-mail and checked the website, another lady, sitting next to her began to bemoan the delay. 

                “My daughter lives 10 minutes away! She just left! We’ve said our goodbyes and I’ve hugged the grandbaby and cried, I just don’t know if I should call her, I don’t know if I can go through all that again!”  

Audrey and I glanced at each other and I told her I was an hour and a half away; not quite as convenient as 10 min. I didn’t mention this to her to “one up” her complaint. I was trying to help her see that her situation could be much worse; she actually had much to be thankful for. 

After chatting with the lady a bit more, we encouraged her to call her daughter, grab that time with that baby, and eat up every extra second she had been handed. You could see her mind recalibrating as she began to nod. The furrow between her eyebrows disappeared as a grin developed on her face and she began to dial her daughter. She grinned at Audrey as she walked away and said “I’ll see you later.” 

Audrey and I conferred and decided what we would do next. Her bags were already checked, and she had her boarding pass. When the time came I could drop her at the curb with her carry on, and head home while she simply strolled through security, and waited at the gate……..WOO!HOO! We were free to go and enjoy an additional 3 hours together we hadn’t counted on. We were thrilled!

As we left the airport, we talked about the differences in people’s reactions to this inconvenience. Do they see them as blessings or curses? Audrey and I chose blessings.  We could have complained about the aspects of how it all would alter and change our day, and our plans, but instead we rejoiced in the fact that we would get 3 more hours, just the two of us, to shop, eat lunch together, and chat it up.

It is the end of the year. A time when we often hear people bemoan the rapid passing of time. Yesterday reminded me that I am given gifts of time every second of every day………how I view them, usually determines how I use them, and if I make them count. 

Looking toward a new year I am reminded that my perspective of time is somewhat skewed anyway. In 2 Peter 3:8 the apostle reminds us:

"‘But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day." 

After reading this again, I am reminded that time is a gift for which I need to be more thankful, and mindful of how I'm using it. As I begin 2014 I am going to place this scripture in a prominent place to remind me of a day when I was handed 3 hours to spend with someone I love and what a precious gift it was. 

Happy New Year!

What Christmas is all about!

He IS coming!

I like decorating for Christmas.

I like baking for Christmas. 

I like planning and gifting for Christmas.

I like Christmas. 

Anticipation

Preparation

I guess that is why when I read or hear people say that it is all just too much, and cut and slice and reduce and abbreviate and try to make it less than what it is; what it should be, I’m sad.  I read so much on the internet right now by people who are stressing and complaining about the holiday preparation, the burden of it. No time to do it, to hurried, to stressful, too expensive, TOO MUCH WORK!! 

It upends us. It messes with our routines, and our schedules. 

Nothing has changed. It messed with schedules when Jesus was born over 2000 years ago too. 

Zechariah and Elizabeth had settled into a routine of NOT having children. 

Joseph and Mary had settled into the ritual and preparation for betrothal and subsequent marriage. 

Then……

There were questions—then a silencing. 

There were doubts—then a Word. 

There was faith—then deliverance.

And there was birth—then Rejoicing!

If Christmas upends you, if it stresses you, if it all seems too much, stop and think about Elizabeth, and Mary, and Zechariah and Joseph. Maybe we are too settled into our routines; maybe Christmas comes every year to jostle us out of those routines, those rituals of time to remind us who IS time; really.

For someone important is coming.  

But in the midst of all that, I can’t forget that He is already here. In the midst of all that, He IS all that.

Because if He isn’t, then all that is just decorating and baking and……burdensome.   

You can’t stop His coming anymore than Elizabeth and Zechariah, or Joseph and Mary could.

 He is coming. He is HERE!

“Now when these things begin to happen, look up and lift up your heads, because your redemption draws near.”-- Luke 21:28