“Compassionate Indignation”

Mark 1:40-45

                                                                                         

Anger isn’t always a bad thing.  Jesus got angry.  When he drove the moneylenders out of the Temple he was most definitely not gentle Jesus, meek and mild.  He was mad.  He was deeply offended by behavior that made a mockery of the house of God.  He wasn’t rebelling.  He wasn’t playing the part of some bomb-throwing anarchist.  He wasn’t some chic radical indulging himself in the popular protest of the moment.  He was simply being the man he was born to be: God’s Son, who lived out God’s will, and on occasion displayed God’s righteous anger.

It doesn’t come across immediately, but in today’s text from Mark Jesus was angry.  Some translations say that Jesus had pity.  Some of the ancient Greek texts use the word anger instead of pity.  Today’s reading from the New International Version gets it right.  Jesus had compassion.

Various translations try to capture the essence of compassion with terms like “deeply moved” or “heart-sorry.”  Jesus was moved to the very core of his being by the leper’s plight.  He had a holy fire burning in his gut.  Leprosy was an affront to God.  It was destroying that man physically, spiritually, and emotionally.  It cut him off from all human contact.  He couldn’t even worship in the Temple or synagogue.  All of that moved Jesus deeply.

But there was more going on.  Leprosy was a symptom of something much deeper and darker: evil.  Once again Jesus was confronted with the hateful power of Satan.  Once again Jesus responded.  Evil in all its forms was contrary to God’s will for creation.  It was at war with God’s purposes.  Evil makes God angry.

It made Jesus, the incarnation of God, angry.  His was a righteous anger, a righteous indignation.  His compassion for that leper contained a component of anger.  Jesus wasn’t just dealing with a disease.  He was dealing with the fruits of evil.  His anger, his indignation, was compassionate in that it led to healing.  It was also righteous in that it once again moved him to drive out evil.

There was another level of anger at work here.  The traditions, laws, and even piety of the day prevented that leper from living a full life just as much as did his leprosy.  He was untouchable.  He was ritually unclean.  But Jesus touched him, but not because he took delight in breaking the religious laws of his day.  Jesus himself had declared that he had come to fulfill the law not abolish it.  After the healing Jesus ordered the man to go do what the law required in order to authenticate his healing.

In touching him, however, Jesus broke the letter of the law.  Jesus was more concerned with the spirit of the law.  As one commentator put it Jesus wasn’t attacking the Torah; he was upholding it.  It was God’s will that the man be healed.  God’s will is God’s law.  Jesus had no patience with the overzealous enforcement of piety.  Such self-righteous, paint-by-the-numbers enforcement was what really broke God’s law.  Why?  Because it was contrary to God’s will.  We do not contradict God’s will without risking God’s wrath.  Jesus’ anger was aimed at the evil in men’s hearts that led them to impose that kind of a spirit-killing, legalistic piety.

Backing up.  That leper knew that Jesus was his only hope.  He dared approach him, which was in itself taboo, because he fully trusted in Jesus’ power to heal him.  Risking rejection he placed his entire future in the hands of Jesus.  He bet it all on the incarnate power of God.

Then he went and did a silly thing.  Instead of quietly going to the priest to have his healing authenticated, what did he do?  In direct disobedience of Jesus’ command he went and told everybody what Jesus had done.  That’s not such a bad thing in itself.  It’s natural to want to publicly praise God for his wondrous acts of grace and mercy.  But by going public the man made Jesus’ life and ministry more difficult.  Crowds of people, seeking not so much a Messiah as a wonder worker, hounded him.  They forced him into a self-imposed isolation.

There are some lessons to be learned.  One, when it is obvious that following Jesus requires us to go against our own natural inclinations, we do what Jesus says.  If he says be quiet about what just happened, then we stay quiet.  We might feel the need to sing God’s praises to the rooftops.  But obedience trumps feelings every time.

Lesson two: there is evil in the world and in our hearts.   It manifests itself in many ways.  Every culture is saturated with evil, as is every political and economic system on Earth.  Neither democracy nor capitalism, as we exercise them, represents an ultimate expression of God’s will.  Any Christian who believes that one political party or another is really interested in the cause of Christ is naïve.   

The church, the Body of Christ, is infected with evil.  Those who seek to protect its purity in the name of orthodoxy are not totally pure in their motivations.  Neither are those who rant and rave about justice delayed being justice denied.  Orthodoxy can harden into a rigid legalism that gets in the way of the Gospel message.  Justice that isn’t tempered with God’s righteousness and governed by the boundaries set by Scripture is not really justice.  It is a form of permissiveness that is itself defined that other form of legalism we call political correctness.   

We cannot trust anything of this Earth to faithfully represent the will of God.  This side of Judgment Day the Devil will always make his inroads into even the best of who and what humanity is.  That’s not cynicism; that’s a biblical and theological reality.  We Calvinists refer to it as total depravity.

Lesson three: imperfect followers of Jesus that we are, it is still incumbent on us to do all we can to root evil out of our lives, out of the church, and out of our culture.  We can’t do this on our own.  Only as we are guided and empowered by the Holy Spirit, and then only after prayerfully seeking discernment, dare we speak or act for God.  Just as Jesus exercised the power and authority of his Father, so must we prayerfully exercise that power and authority in his name.

Doing so will often involve the exercise of compassionate indignation.  There is evil going on in the world that should make us angry.  There is suffering in the world that requires both a healing touch and the expression of righteous anger.  There are some injustices – real injustices – which should deeply move us to work for God’s righteousness.  Sometimes systems, governments, and institutions need to be confronted, even those systems, governments, and institutions that we hold sacred.

And then there’s the other side of this compassion business, healing the hurts of humanity.  We have our own cultural lepers in this time and place.  Some of them are dirty and smelly.  Some of them have diseases of which we’re deathly afraid.  Some of them live on the wrong side of the tracks and even the wrong side of the law.  Some are junkies, addicts, and alcoholics.  We have our modern versions of the prostitutes and tax collectors with whom Jesus mingled.  There are those, sometimes in our own families, who are engaged in behaviors or lifestyles that the church cannot sanction.  Conventional wisdom, cultural taboos, and ingrained piety tell us that we cannot touch them, hug them, welcome them into our churches, or involve ourselves in their lives.  

Whoever they are, whatever they’ve become, they are creations of God, people for whom our Lord and Savior bled and died.  Jesus touched lepers.  Jesus ate and drank with sinners.  Jesus conversed with shady ladies whom no one else dared approach.  Jesus broke the ungodly religious rules of his day.  Was he a troublemaker or rabble-rouser?  No.  He was simply being who he was, doing what he was called to do.   He was proclaiming the Good News of God.  He was living out and teaching the will of God.  He was fulfilling the spirit of God’s law in terms of its original purposes.  He was healing people and casting out demons.  He was exercising the compassionate indignation of God.  He was standing against all that was evil in the world.  Ultimately, he was seeking and saving the lost.

Who are the lepers of our lives?  Who are our untouchables?  Whoever they are we can have only one legitimate response to them and their plight: a compassionate indignation that leads us to offer them healing in the name of Jesus.  Amen.