Matthew 8 - "Staying in Touch"
Phil Campbell
MPC, 17th August 2003.
In Sydney, they've got a great new way to collect bad debts. And it's working wonders.
It's called sending a stinky. And it works like this. The usual way is, if you're 30 days overdue you'd getter a sticker on your account in the mail. Saying please pay overdue amount, or we're counting on your fast payment or something like that. 60 days overdue, you get a red sticker. Saying urgent payment required. 90 days, maybe a phone call threatening to call in the lawyers.
Sending a stinky works far better. And here's what they do. You leave a bill unpaid too long, and some creditors have apparently taken to paying a smelly street person... to move into the foyer of your office building. And they'll be there. Every day. Rain, hail or shine. Until you pay off your account.
Now apparently it's proving very effective. And they say it's a win-win situation. Great for the street person who's picking up an extra twenty bucks a day. Great for the creditors. Who get incredibly fast payment of their overdue accounts.
Sending a stinky.
Interesting, isn't it though... how it plays off our society's discomfort... with certain types of people... in certain types of conditions. Friendly reminder notes won't make you pay. Threats of lawyers won't make you pay. But there's something about an unwashed, unkempt, hair-mattered bag lady that makes you screw up your nose. And pay anything... to not have her around.
See it in other ways as well. Have you noticed on the right hand side at the corner of Stafford Rd and Gympie Rd at Kedron; the building on the corner, there used to be an alcove at the side where one or two homeless people used to shelter. They've fenced it off. To make it inaccessible. So that homeless people would have to go somewhere else.
We don't want to know them. We don't really want to care for them. We just want them somewhere else. Handy if you want to pay him $20 to send someone a stinky. But not for much else.
And the last thing you'd want to do was touch them. Or hug them. Or even be in the same room.
Which was exactly the attitude the leaders of Israel had to the kind of people you meet in the first encounters of Jesus as he finishes the sermon on the mount. There's a leper. The uncleanest of the unclean. Segregated and kept out of town. Who nobody would touch. Because if you did, you'd be called unlcean yourself.
There's a Gentile. A Roman soldier. Who while the Jews would fear him, while they'd even begrudgingly obey him... what a Jew would never do was touch one. Or eat with one. Or go into the house of one. Because Gentiles are unclean. If you brushed against one in the market place, there was a defined washing ritual to go through when you got home. And then a woman. Sick with fever.
So here's Jesus, fresh from the sermon on the mount, fresh from talking about the sort of mercy God wants to see in the hearts of his people, fresh from saying, if you're hungry for righteousness, just ask and seek and knock. And the first person to rush up to meet him isn't Harry M. Miller to sign him up for a speaking tour. But a leper. Who nobody else wants to know. Let alone be with.
Here in Matthew chapter 8 we're at the start of a collection of miracle stories. Which on their own are astounding. People marvelled at the authority of his words as a teacher at the end of chapter 7. Now they're going to marvel at the authority of his words in another way. In a most surprising way. That again antagonises the powerbrokers of Israel.
Take a look. Because all it takes is a word. And Matthew very clearly wants us to see the authority of Jesus in the way that it only takes a word for amazing things to happen.
Jesus comes down the mountain trailed by huge crowds. And the leper's waiting for him. And angles in front of him and kneels on the ground. And asks him. I mean, there's already an assumption that Jesus can help him. And he says Lord, if you are willing... you can make me clean.
And you can see straightaway the power of the word Jesus speaks in the way he answers. He says, I am willing. So be clean. And immediately. Immediately, verse 3, he is cured of his leprosy.
And Jesus says to him, "Keep it quiet. But do what the law of Israel says to do. The law of Moses."
You know, every now and then you hear about a law that hasn't been used for a while. Until two months ago, the little town of Rolling Hills in California had a council ordinance banning immoral conduct. There was a $250 fine, or three months in jail. And since the law was passed in 1957, it's never been applied.
Well, I reckon here's another one. Because in the book of Leviticus, Moses said if you've got leprosy and it gets better, take an offering to the priest, get him to check over your skin; sacrifice the offering and you're counted clean again. Trouble was, with leprosy, nobody ever got better.
Until now. With a word. So Jesus says in verse 4, do what the law says. And show yourself to the priest and offer the gift Moses commanded, as a testimony to them. A testimony, I'd guess, evidence... of who it is they're dealing with. When Jesus comes to town.
You'll notice when it comes to the Centurion, the main point is the same. That Jesus, with a word, has authority.
And the Centurion can understand that. He comes asking for help. My servant's at home paralysed and in terrible pain. And he says to Jesus, just say the word. And I know he'll be okay.
Middle of verse 8. Just say the word. And I know my servant will be healed. Because I'm a man under authority myself, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, go and he goes... and that one come and he comes. I say to my servant, do this, and he does it.
So I can see, he says, it'll be the same way with you. You can command anything. And it'll do it. You can say be clean and a leper's clean. You can say be still and a storm will be still. You can say to my servant even if he's in the house up the road, get up, and he'll get up. Even if he doesn't hear the words.
Go down to verse 10. Because he's got it absolutely right. Jesus says, "Go! It will be done just as you believed it would." And as he speaks, that's exactly what happens.
But do you notice in the bits we've skipped over in our first quick walk through the passage, there's something more going on.
And it's significant. Because while all it takes is a word to do the job, a word is not all Jesus offers. In a way that's worth noticing.
Princess Diana; you know one of the reasons people loved her was the way she got involved. So she'd visit an AIDS hospice. And you might remember the mixture of horror and admiration when she was photographed holding the hand of a dying AIDS patient. A Princess... actually touching... someone with the world's most feared and shunned disease.
And do you notice there's something similar going on here? And it's not just an accidental detail when Matthew says it back in verse 3. The Leper's on his knees, he says, if you're willing you can make me clean. And Jesus, against all the best medical advice... against all the best religious advice... against all the rules of what's ceremonially unclean and what isn't... against all the social conventions about who's nice to be with and who you wouldn't be seen dead with.... Jesus reaches out his hand. And touches him.
And it's worth pausing for a minute and actually looking at those words. Because I reckon with this leper it'll be the first time he's been touched by another human being... since he noticed the first white patch appearing on his skin years before.
And the Pharisees, if they'd been watching, would have been aghast.
Happens again down in verse 15. Peter's mother-in-law in bed with a fever. And verse 15, he touches her hand; and the fever leaves her, and she gets up and begins to wait on him.
Now with the Centurion it's different. But can you see the equally incredible intention of Jesus. When Jews are banned by the Pharisees from crossing the threshold of a Gentile's dwelling what's the first thing that comes to mind for Jesus when he's asked to come and help.
You can see the emphasis in the way the story's set up. Verse 6, the problem is, the servant's paralysed, so he can't come to Jesus. And he's lying at home. At the Centurion's place. A no-go zone.
Which Jesus is going to completely ignore. So verse 7, he says, I'll come and heal him. Without a moment's hesitation. And total disregard for the barriers and the rules that let you shut yourself off from compassion. And it's almost like the Centurion himself is taken aback; I don't deserve to have you come under my roof. Just do it with a word.
Can you see it's like Jesus is getting his hands dirty... getting involved. In a way no Pharisee would ever get involved. He's got the power he needs to heal with a word from a distance. But he wants to heal with a touch from up close. No matter how stinky the situation. No matter how unclean.
The bible commentator W.J. Dumbrell says, the Pharisees valued a holiness they defined by their seperation that keeps them far away. In contrast to Jesus... whose holiness is demonstrated by compassion. That comes close.
And the contrast couldn't be more clear.
Will you notice, when evening comes that day, and it's still the day of the sermon on the mount, Peter's house is surrounded by desperate crowds. The crowd of listeners on the mountain has been surrounded by a crowd of desperates. Because word is out. People who have given up hope. Who nobody else can help. Who nobody else wants to know. Verse 16 paints a sad sort of picture; but a picture of compassion. "When evening came," verse 16, "many who were demon-possessed were brought to him, and he drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick."
Which Matthew points out is exactly what you'd expect God's servant to do. Who was promised so long ago by the prophet Isaiah. The one who Isaiah said would come to take up our infirmities. And carry our diseases. And join us in our weakness. And ultimately, in the words of Isaiah 53, be bruised for our transgressions. And wounded for our iniquities.
This is him. And so you'd expect when God's servant came... that he wouldn't be aloof. And distant. And uncaring. But that he would get his hands dirty. And connect... with the unclean world. Even with the ones that people like the Pharisees consider right out of the ballpark. Like a leper. Or a Roman. Or a woman with a fever.
A little bit later, just over the page, Jesus says to the Pharisees, you need to learn what this means... I desire mercy. Not sacrifice. And yet even watching him, they still don't get it.
These chapters of Matthew, they're telling a story. We're breaking it up week by week. But it's a longer story. Of opposition... from the very ones who should have welcomed him when he came. Of hardness of heart... where you'd expect to find mercy. Of lack of faith where you'd expect to find faith. And faith where you wouldn't.
Which means those passing words Jesus speaks to the centurion are significant.
We skipped over them. So go back.
See, the Centurion has great faith... that Jesus is the one with authority to put things right. Authority to bring blessing with a word. He says, just say it... and I know it's done.
The end of the sermon on the Mount, the Israelites listening, we're told they're amazed at his teaching. Now Jesus is amazed. Astonished. In chapter 8 verse 10. At the faith of this Gentile soldier.
And he sounds a warning again. Same kind we heard last week. That if the people of Israel don't want to be the people of God, if the people of Israel don't want to put faith in their messiah and be what they should be... then the vacancy sign's going to go out. And all sorts of people are going to be invited in. And the hard hearted Israelites will be out in the dark.
Which is what Jesus is prompted to say in verse 10. Astonished that a Roman soldier gets it... when the religious leaders of Israel don't.
He says, I tell you the truth, I haven't found anyone in Israel with such great faith. I say to you, verse 11, that many will come from the east and the west... and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the Kingdom of Heaven. They'll come from anywhere and everywhere. But the subjects of the Kingdom... will be thrown outside in the darkness. Where there'll be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
The Centurion... has got a faith that Israel so far hasn't. An attitude to Jesus... that's the exact opposite of the attitude the Pharisees and scribes have got. Who instead of welcoming and celebrating the one who comes with compassion... they're determined to keep on with their hard hearts and their flashy religious rituals. As if that's enough. Keep on shunning the suffering. Avoiding the stinkies around them. Patting themselves on the back for their seperation from the unclean. And ultimately, plotting the death of their messiah.
They'll be gnashing their teeth in the darkness. While people from all over the place who are hungry for righteousness and thirsty for mercy will be joining the party in the Kingdom of Heaven.
Which I wonder, leaves you where?
A passage like this leaves us some simple points to ponder. First of all, faith. For Gentiles like us. Which will look like absolute confidence in the Jewish Messiah who takes up our infirmites, who suffers for our transgressions... at the cross. That's where Isaiah's pointing us. And that's where the story's heading. That we're invited to have the faith Israel should have had.
And I guess invited to have the compassion Israel should have had as well. That was so powerfully modelled by Jesus.
So there's that homeless guy ahead of you in the queue in McDonalds, scraping together his last few coins to buy a cup of tea. You watch him grabbing as many free sugar packets as he can possibly tip in the cup. Just to stretch his dollar as far as he can. Do you turn the other way? Or buy him a meal to go with it?
Do you sign the petition to get rid of Tim the homeless guy on the corner down at Toowong? Or does your heart turn to how you can help him?
Do you do your best to avoid contact with anyone who's not the clean living pure person you are? Or do you get your hands dirty. And get involved?
Now here's a bit of encouraging news. A research project by the University of Chicago says there is a measurable difference. Between Christians and the rest of the world. They've found people who attend church perform more acts of kindness each year than people who don't. Christians in the survey clocked up 128 acts of kindness a year. Compared to 96 for the rest of the population. Things, the survey says, like giving food or money to a homeless person; returning money to a cashier if you get too much change; letting a stranger go ahead in a line; offering your seat on a bus; helping a stranger. Or helping a friend who's feeling down or depressed.
The survey said, it's probably because people like that go to church services where they keep getting told what they've got to do.
Mind you, the last thing Jesus is looking for is people who just do stuff because someone's hassling them from the front every week. Or even worse, people who are keeping score. Clock up your 128 for the year and you're done. But a people who are actually merciful from the heart. In a way that just keeps overflowing. A people who have seen a compassion so costly that it took Jesus all the way to the cross as he took our infirmities and paid for our transgressions. And are hungry to have exactly that sort of compassion for ourselves.