He Knows My Separation
Scripture Reading: Luke 17:11-19
Meditation
Living outside of a village, in the borderland between Galilee and Samaria, is a man who bears a double curse. By birth he’s a Samaritan and by lot he’s a leper. He’s not morally responsible for either but both his lineage and his disease bring with them the sentence of a ceremonial curse—separation.
According to strict social and religious norms, Jews aren’t supposed to associate with Samaritans. The Jews consider the dogs of Samaria to be religious half-breeds, a defiled mix of Jewish and mongrel blood spilled over from the Assyrian captivity.
Fueling the animosity between the two is the fact that the Samaritans had adopted the foreign gods of the Assyrian invaders and had mingled them with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The result? They offered up polluted worship to Yahweh. The Samaritans even went so far as to build their own temple on Mt. Gerazim, spurning Jerusalem as the true place of worship.
So despised are the Samaritans that pious Jews traveling from Galilee to Jerusalem make the long journey around Samaria instead of taking the chance of defiling themselves by passing through Samaritan territory.
Because of his debased lineage, the Jews in the area label the Samaritan an ‘outsider.’ They forbid him to worship in Jerusalem. Ceremonially they separate him from God, severing him from the hand of mercy, and cutting him off from the gift of grace.
As if spiritual segregation isn’t enough, the man’s leprosy widens the span of the man’s separation. According to the Levitical Law, whoever has an infectious disease is declared to be ‘unclean’ and is to be separated from the rest of the community.
“The person with such an infectious disease must wear torn clothes, let his hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of his face and cry out, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’ As long as he has the infection he remains unclean. He must live alone; he must live outside the camp.”1
As part of their religious duties, the priests serve as public health officers in the community. They police the community for anything that could cause the ‘chosen and set apart ones of Israel’ to become unclean. The sanctity of the community has to be protected at all costs. The good of the many outweighs the needs of the one. For the sake of ceremonial holiness, the unclean thing has to be cast out.
Because of his disease, the leper is designated by society as one of the ‘unclean.’ His peers have sequestered him from the rest of the community, mandating that he live outside the village, isolated and alone in his pain.
But where there is misery, there is company.
Living outside of the village with him is a colony of lepers, a community of outcasts made up of both Jews and Samaritans. What social barriers race had erected, leprosy has now torn down. The hideous disease has made them equals: equal in pain, coequal in despair. Leprosy is their common bond. Piece by piece, each one of their lives is falling apart. Men who were once alienated from one another by race, are now kin—brothers in misery.
Their disease has removed them from their proper place in society. They are the ‘marginal people’: individuals forced to stand at a distance around the rim of the community—part of the periphery, never the center.
Besides eating away at their lives, their disease has devoured their faith.
They have given up praying for such specific requests as an arrest of the disease’s cancerous appetite, restoration of digits and reformation of the face, a return to the family and the life they once had, or the warmth of a compassionate touch.
Their only cry is for mercy.
And where there is a plea for mercy, heaven’s Son answers.
When it’s time for Jesus to go to the cross, he intentionally steps over the border between Galilee and Samaria and marches his way through the Samaritan territory toward Jerusalem. He ignores all of the existing social prohibitions and comes near to those who are far away. His grace extends beyond Judaism.
Salvation is walking through Samaria.
When the lepers see him coming, they run out to meet him. Per the requirements of the Law, they keep their proper distance but bridge the required ceremonial gulf by yelling over and over again,
“Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”2
Jesus raises his hands to shield his eyes from the sun. After getting a good look at them he cups his hands, places them around his mouth, and shouts back,
“Go, show yourselves to the priests.”3
Such a command is good news. Standing before the priest is the first step toward regaining a good standing within the community. The ten, not yet healed, go quickly to the priests. It’s only while they’re on their way that they all become clean. Toes and fingers are restored. Flesh returns to their faces. Numbness wears off and sensations surge throughout their bodies.
When they realize that they are healed, one of them—the Samaritan—stops in mid stride. He turns around, leaving the other nine running toward the priest, and returns to Jesus. All the way back, he shouts his hallelujahs.
This time there will be no separation between him and Jesus. He will not stand a shout away. Jesus has made him clean. Worship has to be given face-to-face. The Samaritan rushes to Jesus’ feet and kneels as he worships, continually thanking him for his mercy. Sweet mercy.
Perplexed that only one had returned out of the ten, Jesus asks,
“Were not ten healed? Where are the nine? Can none be found to come back and give glory to God except this outsider?” Then he said to him, “Get up. On your way. Your faith has healed and saved you.”4
The man with the double curse receives a double blessing: health and salvation. Christ has come near. Mercy has closed the gap. There is no longer any separation between man and God.
Reflection
In what ways are you shouting from a distance for Jesus to help you?
When was the last time you cried out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on me!”?
How are you like the one leper that returned to give thanks? How are you like the nine that kept running?
What act of Christ has stopped you in your stride, turned you around, and brought you back to his feet shouting gratitude and glorifying God?
Prayer
Father,
Like the Samaritan leper, my life is falling apart.
Sin’s cancerous appetite has consumed every part of my being: body, emotions, relationships, and faith. I confess that I am full of sin and am suffering the just consequences of my transgressions. Therefore, I do not presume to utter, and am long past asking for, any specific request. My only plea is for mercy. As I stand at a distance and shout out, I pray that the eyes of your Son might look upon my condition and that, when he sees my need, he will come near.
During this day, show me all of the ways that Christ has stepped into my territory. Assure me that he went to the cross to bridge the gap between my sin and his salvation. Whenever he removes the leprosy that eats at my life, may my legs sprint toward him. While others run along on their own way, happy to be healed but not grateful to God, bring me to your Son. When I approach him, open my mouth to give thanks, not from a distance, but face to face.
In the name of Christ I pray. Amen.
1Leviticus 13:45-46 2Luke 17:13 3Luke 17:14 4Luke 17:17-19
All Scripture references in the meditation are marked by italics and are taken from the Gospel reading for the day. Those verses quoted outside of the chosen reading for the day are noted. All Scripture quoted in this post is taken from THE MESSAGE: Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 2000, 2001 & 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. All rights reserved.