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Getting CleanLuke 17:11-19Ever had a nickname? Nicknames are fun. Some nicknames are so cool! George Herman Ruth Jr., otherwise known as “Babe Ruth.” There’s “The Duke”--John Wayne. Some people have multiple nicknames: “Ole’ Blue Eyes, The Sultan of Swoon, Chairman of the Board”--Frank Sinatra. John Wesley, founder of Methodism, was nicknamed “Jacky” by his parents. Our own church denomination is the product of nicknames. First, they called us “Holy Rollers” because of our enthusiasm. Then there was “Bible Moths” because we always had our noses in the bible. Then they called us “Methodists” because we always seemed to have a method to our Christian discipleship. Of course, that’s the nickname that stuck. Then there are those nicknames you wish you never had, and you’re glad when people finally stop calling you that. And no, I will not tell you my nickname. (“Van ‘give ‘em the’ Dickens”)Some things are best left unsaid, you know?(“Vander-kasnooterbabyboy”)I mean, whatever I was called when I was young was back then. This is now.(“Vander Dutch Wannabe”)Enough!In the New Testament, several disciples of Jesus had nicknames. James and John shared the nickname “Boanerges,” which, means Sons of Thunder. Thomas was called Didymus, which means “Twin.” The prophet Elisha was called “Baldhead.” He didn’t like that much. Can I tell you about another nickname? We find it in today’s scripture. Some nicknames are innocent and funny. Others are not so funny. It was true then as now. Sometimes, entire groups of people are given derogatory nicknames for reasons that are no fault of their own. It was certainly true in Jesus’ day. Jesus himself was called a glutton and a drunkard. But perhaps of all the terrible nicknames anyone or any group could have, the worst was to be called a leper. “Unclean! Unclean! Stay away! Unclean!” They had to put their hands over their mouths when they cried out, “Unclean!” Even the air they exhaled was considered unclean. Standing at a distance, away from the rest of society, never to be within normal walking and talking distance, not to mention ever touching anybody again, they were the lepers, medical outcasts, social outcasts, religious outcasts. In the fullest sense, they no longer belonged. Today, a more accurate phrase for them might be “the walking dead.” There was no place in society for them where they were welcomed. Severed from all family contact, declared unclean by the priest, they were considered cursed by God, forbidden to worship in the synagogue, forever shunned, cut off, banished for life.Rather than subject another person to the curse associated with leprosy, they remained at a distance, calling out to those on the road, “Unclean! Unclean!” lest they be approached. It was a requirement that they did this, Leviticus, chapter thirteen, for anybody who wants to look it up, but it was a requirement they readily complied with, for you see, it was one thing to have leprosy, another to be punished by God for a wicked sin the world believed they had to have committed. They wouldn’t want this type of rejection to be inflicted on their worst enemies, therefore “Stay Away! Unclean! Unclean!” “Don’t be cursed like me.”The New Revised Standard Version of the bible refers to them as “ten lepers.” Interesting, the New International Version from which we read this morning reads, “ten men who had leprosy.” That’s the precise Greek translation. It may be trivial, but hey, let’s give them as much humanity as we can. After all, these were men, human beings, who happened to have an incurable disease. They were not freaks. They were not a side show. They were more than their condition. They had likes and dislikes, favorite colors and dreams. They were somebody’s son or daughter, or grandmother, or grandfather. They had siblings and parents. They may have believed in God, even if it was the God they were told was punishing them in this cold, cruel world, and yes, they had leprosy. And because of it, society robbed them of any dignity they might have otherwise had. There was simply no room in the world for their kind. People who accidentally approached them, once they heard the words, “Unclean!” would quickly look away until the outcasts disappeared in the distance. Society made it dreadfully clear: Never look upon them. Never approach them. Stay away. To be leprous was the worst condition possible.It’s interesting, that in Jesus’ day, leprosy was not as clearly defined as it is today. Today, we call it Hansen’s Disease. It’s a very specific, communicable bacterial illness affecting the nervous system, where one loses feeling in certain parts of the body, including the extremities such as the hands, feet. In Jesus’ day, leprosy was a catch all for any number of skin-related diseases, including eczema, dry skin, athlete’s foot, a fungus, boils, or staph infection. In the Old Testament, it wasn’t even limited to the human body. It could affect your clothes, the walls of your home, mold or mildew, it was all considered unclean.The Hebrew word for leprosy, sara’at, literally means “unclean,” or “defiled.” It is from this word that we get the Greek word “lepra,” which means “scaly skin.” Of course, “unclean” and “scaly skin” is not the same thing, but like many things, if you use one word to mean something else long enough, it tends to stick around. If you call a Navajo or Pueblo or Sioux an Indian long enough, it doesn’t seem to matter anymore that they never came from India. Point is, it didn’t really matter what the precise nature of your skin disease was. It was a religious connotation, wherein the priest, the rabbi, declared a person “unclean.” You were unclean because that’s what the church said you were. And as long as you were unclean, it didn’t matter if you had Hansen’s Disease, or eczema or a “fungus among us,” the end result was the same. You were no longer welcome here. “Unclean! Unclean!”Can you imagine what that must have been like, to be declared unclean, by the church no less? Imagine living in those days, growing up in a home where people loved you, where you felt nurtured and accepted. Imagine going to worship, to market, to wherever people gathered, where they talked about Joe’s cow that got out of the barn and trampled on Aunt Martha’s clothes that were hanging out to dry and how the cow was found in the village square with Aunt Martha’s undergarments hanging from the cow’s horns. Imagine laughing about that, or the hundred other things people laughed about when they gathered simply because they enjoyed laughing together, being together. Imagine discovering something different about yourself that nobody else knew because it’s been kept under wraps, where nobody can see it. Imagine being the only one who knew that and knowing that the minute, the second someone finds out, it won’t be long before the whole world knows, and you’re forever be declared unclean, untouchable, unwelcome. Imagine being in that situation. Can you imagine the fear, the panic, your whole life passing before your eyes, as you realize that this situation, this condition, is irreversible, that it’s not like a cut that will heal and go away, but rather a part of you. It’s your skin, your own body.Imagine living in those days. Perhaps in your case, in your case, it may not be all that bad. Maybe it’s just a little rash. Maybe some olive oil rubbed in it will do the trick, but somebody noticed it and so, rather than it be found out the wrong way, you go to the people in charge and let the news come from you. Bad news doesn’t travel well second hand. Better to just own up to it and let the chips fall where they will, right? Sure enough, later that day you get a knock on the door and it’s the Leprosy Committee and the priest, who come in and examine you from top to bottom, and determine, “You know, you know, it doesn’t look like it’s all that bad. We see how you’ve been treating it. Tell you what. As long as you are discrete about it and keep it out of sight, we’ll consider it’s not really leprosy, at least not right now. It’s just a minor blemish, a little problem. Keep using the olive oil and let’s hope it’ll go away, just a temporary thing. Who knows, in no time, you may right as rain. Have a good day, and always, peace be with you.”Great. Everything’s fine, you think. A few months later, you dare to take a look and realize it’s back. In fact, it never really went away. You thought it was gone, but nope, it’s still there. Now you’re nervous. What will people think if they find out? What will your boss think, your friends, your family, your church? At first, you try to convince yourself, “Oh, but they know me. It’s still me. Surely, they’ll think, ‘That’s just George. You know George. He’s one of us. He’s part of the family. He’s been part of our community all his life. It’s no big deal. We still love good old George. And after all, it’s the first century, for heaven’s sake. We don’t hide these things anymore. Lots of people are like George.’”Only, you know that this is not how they will react. The minute that committee comes back and sees it the way you see it, the way you know it is, and that it’s not going away, you know good and well they’re going to have a different attitude than the one they had the first time they saw you. Oh yes, this time, you’re going to get labeled. You’re going to get a whole, new name. “Leper.” A stigma. And that name, “Leper,” “Unclean,” will stay with you the rest of your life. Unwelcomed. Unaccepted. Damnation in the fullest sense of the word, complete with the endorsement of God.“But I’m still a productive member of society. I have skills. I’ve been trained. I can still make a difference. I don’t deserve to be cast aside. I don’t deserve to lose my job over this. I don’t deserve to lose the love, the warmth, the friendship that I’ve enjoyed all these years, that makes my life worth living. Why has God done this to me? Why am I being punished? Why am I being treated differently just because of this? I know what people say. I’ve seen what people do to people like me.”So, you keep it quiet, you keep it hidden, and you hope and pray that nobody asks you about it anymore. “Please don’t ask. Please don’t ask me, because if you do, I may have to lie about it. The thought of trying to be open about it is just too much. I can’t dare to hope that way anymore, that the world will welcome me and love me and accept me regardless. I dare not dream that much anymore. Those days are gone. I know what happens. I’ve seen what happens to people like me. It’s one thing to be this way, another to face a world that condemns you for it. It’s too much. So just don’t ask.” You keep quiet as long as you can, but like all secrets, the truth finally comes out, and the worst that can happen comes toppling down on you with the full force of inevitability. In less time than it takes to explain it, they take away your home, your money, your food, your job, your friends, even your church. Everything you hold dear is ripped out of your arms. In sheer desperation, you find others who have received the same death sentence. They say misery loves company. And there you have it: ten lepers, or ten men who had leprosy, depending on how you look at them. Two thousand nineteen years ago, on a lonely, dusty road, on the edge of a forgotten village, ten men in torn, raggedy clothes came upon another man whom they recognized as a healer, a miracle worker. In an act of sheer desperation, they did the unthinkable. Instead of screaming out “Unclean! Unclean!” they shouted, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” Just saying those words, instead of “Unclean!” was in violation of the Leviticus law, but they said it anyway.We’re like that when it comes to prayer sometimes, I think. Afraid to ask God for what we really need. On that day, these ten men said what they had been wanting to say for a long time. “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” Give me back my life.”You know, sometimes, you say the right thing to the right person at the right time. In the fullest sense of the word, Jesus “saw them.” He didn’t turn his face away, he didn’t run the opposite direction. He looked upon them with those eyes of compassion and cured them. Bear in mind, he didn’t require them to repent of their sins because that’s not what he saw in them. He didn’t shame them or brand them. He didn’t tell them they were cursed by God. No! He loved them for the men they were and gave them what they needed. “Go, show yourself to the priest so he can declare you ‘Clean again.’” Oh, he cured them of their skin problem, whatever it was. But more than this, he removed the curse that came with the stigma; and the fear that haunted them. That was the real curse. Those ten condemned men had a monkey on their back they couldn’t shake, and in the blink of an eye, Jesus cut that monkey off. He cured them of the curse.There are a lot of people who roam the world half alive, either from an illness or some stigma leaving them feeling unclean, unwelcomed.The good news is, Jesus sees you. He has compassion and knows your situation perfectly, and will give you exactly what you need, and he calls us to see people with those same eyes of love and mercy.Interesting, in Luke’s account, the one man with leprosy who turned around, the one human being who was healed, who then praised God and fell at Jesus’ feet, was a Samaritan. Here was a man who had a double curse. He was cursed because of his leprosy, and he was cursed simply for who he was. But he was the only one who turned around and gave thanks, and for this, he was the only one who was commended. “Go your way; your faith has made you well.”There are countless people enjoying their lives without any stigmas, who have nothing to dread, who enjoy success and health and happiness and acceptance as if it’s candy and who never utter a single word of thanksgiving; others who lift their voices and say, “Jesus, Master, have mercy,” for whom the slightest ounce of compassion is cause to lie at the feet of the Master and kiss his feet. It is for them that the Master reserves his blessing.Holy healer, who sees us for who we are, and loves us beyond imagination, hear us when we pray, for ourselves and for all who suffer or fear the worst, as well as those who feel alienated and cut off. Grant us wholeness to serve you in all that we do. Help us to learn from those who experience your mercy and give thanks. May we too be merciful and grateful, and therefore blessed. In Jesus’ name, Amen. ................
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