Luke 13.10-17
10 Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. 11 A woman was there who had been disabled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and couldn’t stand up straight. 12 When he saw her, Jesus called her to him and said, “ Woman, you are set free from your sickness. ” 13 He placed his hands on her and she straightened up at once and praised God.
14 The synagogue leader, incensed that Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, responded, “ There are six days during which work is permitted. Come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath day. ”
15 The Lord replied, “ Hypocrites! Don’t each of you on the Sabbath untie your ox or donkey from its stall and lead it out to get a drink? 16 Then isn’t it necessary that this woman, a daughter of Abraham, bound by Satan for eighteen long years, be set free from her bondage on the Sabbath day? ” 17 When he said these things, all his opponents were put to shame, but all those in the crowd rejoiced at all the extraordinary things he was doing.
Let the words of my mouth
and the meditations of my heart
be pleasing to you,
LORD , my rock and my redeemer.
Jesus was a troublemaker.
I say, “was”. “Is”. Jesus is a troublemaker.
But he’s consistently causing trouble by showing and expecting mercy.
He expects mercy out of the godly, the Temple hierarchy. They don’t appreciate that. They want him to just play by the rules.
He shows mercy to those who are hurting and oppressed and forgotten and lost.
And sometimes that’s not a problem. But sometimes, in the eyes of the Temple hierarchy, he’s in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Like today.
It’s the Sabbath. It’s Saturday; the day of rest. Hebrew law says you don’t work on Saturday. It’s a really big deal, just like not working on Sunday is a big deal to some people today.
And there are really strict definitions of work in the Hebrew law. And there’s room for interpretation, just like in any legal system.
And Jesus is in the Synagogue, doing the every-Saturday church thing because Jesus is a good Jew (don’t forget that). He’s such a good Jew and an amazing scholar (because who knows the Law and the Prophets better than the Word who inspired them?) that he’s in the Synagogue teaching.
Which is a thing that some people do as work now.
So, to our minds, Jesus is in the Synagogue, on Saturday, working.
Now, that would bother us, probably, who are more sensitive to a modern definition of “work” and who are concerned about strict adherence to the Sabbath laws.
But it doesn’t bother first-century Jewish legal experts.
What bothers them is when Jesus happens to glance across the room, mid-midrash, and spot this poor woman who’s standing out specifically because she’s not standing out. She’s hunched over and broken.
And Jesus (all compassion; pure, unbounded joy) calls her to him.
Girl, eighteen years is far too long. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Be free now.
And then, he touches her.
Now, be honest with yourself. When you encounter someone who is in any way less than attractive, disfigured, is your first impulse to touch her?
That’s a terrible bias we tend to have. And I don’t want to explore its source, at least not now, but I want to recognize that what Jesus is doing is exactly what we’ll prefer not to.
This hunched-over, disfigured, dispirited woman; he touches her.
And that, Luke says, is when she straightens up and begins to praise!
Because Jesus touches her.
I thank God that we are past the prudish Victorian era, with formalized emotion and its rules against touch. I thank God that we are past the extreme response of the sexual revolution, that we are now coming into some sort of balance, something between prudish restriction and impulsive liberty.
But some of us are still afraid of touch.
Even though touch is healing. Even though study after study has shown how important touch is. Even though teacher after teacher has learned how powerful a touch on the shoulder is. Even though parent after parent has known how important is a kiss on the forehead.
Touch.
Plenty of people are afraid, at least in the developed world, to touch because of sanitation risks. The advertising world batters us with products to kill away every organic particle that anyone else might breathe or high-five onto us.
That’s something we have to get over
A) because the risk, seriously, isn’t as high as commercials would have us think, and
B) because Jesus shows us that touch is healing.
Seriously, what do we have to be afraid of? I mean, if we really believe what we say we believe, what real harm can a little germ do to us anyway? Remember that it was while Paul was imprisoned, of all things, when he said:
21 Because for me, living serves Christ and dying is even better. 22 If I continue to live in this world, I get results from my work. 23 But I don’t know what I prefer. I’m torn between the two because I want to leave this life and be with Christ, which is far better. 24 However, it’s more important for me to stay in this world for your sake.
We serve a Christ who isn’t afraid to get involved with people. We serve a Christ who touches the lepers, the sick, the unclean. We serve a Christ who tells his disciples to rip the grave clothes off a man dead four days! Gross!
But we serve a Creator who creates for us every moment of our lives, not just the civilized stuff of polite conversation.
We are all human. And God creates us, inside and out, from birth to death, from table to toilet, and loves us in and for every moment.
What more do we have to fear, we who are so much the same in so many ways?
We celebrate saints and prophets who deal with the fear of heeding their call in many different ways. Who deal with the fear of facing different kinds of people who are so unlike them.
Consider Jeremiah, to whom the Lord says:
5 “ Before I created you in the womb I knew you;
before you were born I set you apart;
I made you a prophet to the nations. ”
6 “ Ah, LORD God, ” I said, “ I don’t know how to speak
because I’m only a child. ”
7 The LORD responded,
“ Don’t say, ‘I’m only a child.’
Where I send you, you must go;
what I tell you, you must say.
8 Don’t be afraid of them,
because I’m with you to rescue you, ”
declares the LORD .
And what does God do to give Jeremiah a word to speak? Something we wouldn’t dare today. Something mothers only do with their children when they’re young. Something we reserve only for oral hygenists.
9 Then the LORD stretched out his hand,
touched my mouth, and said to me,
“ I’m putting my words in your mouth.
God is still touching us today. Jeremiah is pretty amazing, but that calling is something we receive today, too. God is still touching our mouths, inspiring us, putting divine words into us.
And if God will so intimately touch us, then shouldn’t we be so bold as to touch others?
After all, touching others is touching what is holy.
Then the king will reply to them, ‘I assure you that when you have done it for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you have done it for me.’
What do you think? Are you willing to put aside the fear and the stigma of touch, of encountering people who might not otherwise be “worth your time”, and be the touch of Christ for them? Because you might just find Christ touching you, too.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
