A Healing Touch

2 Kings 5:1-14

Mark 1:40-45

Psalm 30

What do you think about these stories of physical healings?  Are they hard to accept?  Do you believe that while these physical miracles happened then that they don’t happen now?  What about the idea of the Laying on of Hands that brings about that healing?  Is that weird?  Strange? Incomprehensible?

About one quarter of the gospels are concerned with healings in Jesus’ ministry.  The gospels record 26 individual healing miracles and 14 healings of larger numbers of people.  There is more record of the healing ministry in the gospels than any other topic or experience.  All who came to Jesus for healing were healed.  He made no distinctions, turned no one away, and found no case, we are told, beyond his power to heal.  And John tells us in John 20:30 that the words of Jesus recorded in his gospel recorded only a few of those healings Jesus performed.

We also know that Jesus expected his followers to share in this healing ministry.  Matthew 10:1 says “Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits. To cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness.”  In Matthew 10:7-8a Jesus commanded his followers to “cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers and cast out demons.”  In Luke it is said that the disciples “went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere (Luke 9:6).”  And the disciples said to Jesus in Luke 10:17b, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us.”

We are given examples throughout the gospels and even other parts of the Bible on ways in which this healing is to take place.  The first and more common way, though, was through touch.  This touch included breaking a lot of different rules, touching lepers and dead bodies, something that was expressly forbidden by Old Testament law.  Touch was an important part of Jesus’ ministry, but more an important part of his healing. 

In many churches across the nation and across the world now, healing ministries are resurfacing as we recognize that illness and injury are not just physical issues but that they have spiritual components as well.  More and more churches now hold services where prayers for healing are offered, usually accompanied by a laying on of hands for individuals and groups, other churches are developing teams that take on an even bigger approach to healing ministries, some churches even hiring “parish nurses” whose job it is to work towards healing at all levels –physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual.

Still, in the face of all of this, many people remain uneasy when we talk about the idea of praying for healing, and especially of laying on hands for healing. 

When I searched through some of my books for stories about healing, I found almost none.  This was especially true of healing that came from touch.  Even the books that follow the lectionary passages (which therefore cannot avoid scriptures that talk about healing since a quarter of our gospel passages do), would carefully sidestep the issue altogether.  One exception to this was adult Christian Education curriculums focused specifically on healing.  One such curriculum (Ian Price, A Sensual Faith: Experiencing God through our Senses. (Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada: Wood Lake Boosk, 2000)) contained the following story:

It was Friday, the morning I was due to visit the geriatric ward of a large regional hospital where I was a minister.  I was anxious to get it over with as quickly as possible.  I found it difficult to talk with these elderly people.  There was a nurses’ aid at the hospital – a very practical person.  She was middle-aged, overworked, a gruff no-nonsense type of person.  Yet as she plodded around that ward on her tired feet, trembling arms were held out to her, faces turned towards her warm homely face, quavering voices called her by name.  And she, knowing the heart hunger, the loneliness of the old, was lavish with her touch.  She patted a cheek, pushed hair from a forehead, or sensing a really special need gave a hug.  As I watched her, I thought, if it works for her, perhaps it will work for me.  The response shook me to the soul.  Eyes that I thought dull as marbles kindled, wrinkled hands returned my clasp.  As I was leaving, I noticed an old German woman.  Her hand, brown-flecked, dry as a leaf, lay upon the chair.  I touched it.  It was cold.  She looked up in recognition with eyes I’d always thought of as vacant.   And in response to the deepest need in all of us, she said, “I’m lonely.  Hold my hand."

There are certain parts of our call, of our faith, with which we remain uneasy.  Healing can be one of those.  Believing in the healing power of prayer and touch feels superstitious somehow, or scary, or contrary to what we know about science.  But it is part of our call as Christians to reach out to one another, with our prayers, with our hands, with our voices, with our faith.  The stories of Jesus’ healings are not just stories to tell us about who Jesus was.  They are also stories that tell us about who we are called to be as followers of Jesus.  We are called to be people who offer healing to one another.  And we are called to be people who accept healing from each other, who believe in the power of other people to touch us emotionally, spiritually, and mentally.  But also, because we are not divided people, but people whose emotional, spiritual and mental well-being connect deeply with the physical, we are also called to accept that healing prayers and touch can affect us physically as well.

Of course, there is a dangerous side to all of this as well.  And we know this.  We’ve all heard of people who say if you didn’t heal it’s because you didn’t have enough faith.  We’ve all heard of people who say “If you don’t really believe, you won’t be healed.”  “If you have enough faith, you will be made well.”  “Just believe and accept the healing that is there for you.”  These are dangerous ideas. Instead of offering God’s grace and mercy, that thinking adds to the burdens of those in need of our healing prayers. 

I also think that one of the things that stops our acceptance of healing ministry is that we think the healing must be total, miraculous, above and beyond scientific explanation, if it has occurred as all, and I don’t think that is true or accurate.  Sometimes “healing” looks like making peace with where one is.  Sometimes healing looks like enough ease of pain to make living bearable.  Sometimes healing looks like letting go of expectations or hopes.  Sometimes healing is just a bit of comfort from someone who loves us in a time when we need that comfort.  Healing looks different for each person, but we are still called to be part of asking for healing, praying for healing, supporting each other in reaching out for healing at all levels.

It may help us to remember that even Jesus was resurrected with his wounds.  He was “healed” from death, but as the stories of his resurrection tell us, the scars of that experience continued.  And that, too, tells us that healing looks different for each person, at each time and in each place. 

We, in this place, within these walls, also offer some healing ministries.  We have had grief support groups, and I am always open to starting another one.  We have had care-giver support groups of various kinds.  Our women’s support group and even our Friday men’s group and our quilting groups are places of listening, places of healing.  When we hug each other, when we hold hands to pray, that care can provide healing.  When we visit and send cards and listen and love one another, we offer care which can give healing.  But I also know there is a fear here of something more.  In my last two congregations we would have, once a year, a service of healing prayer in which people would come with whatever was bothering them and we would hold their hands and offer individual prayers for each person.  But I know that this feels scary, and I think it’s because that idea of hands-on healing is so threatening. 

So I’d like to ask you if any of you have had the experience of experiencing healing through someone else’s touch?  Again, I’m not talking necessarily about freedom from illness or miraculous cures.  I’m talking about a sense of deep healing from the care and touch of another person. 

There is a There is a Thompson Twin's song called Lay Your Hands On Me.  While most pop songs that mention touch have a sexual connotation to that, I invite you to listen to these words in a very different way, not as sexualized but as truly about healing touch. 

 This old life seemed much too long

With little point in going on

I couldn't think of what to say

Words just vanished in the haze

I was feeling cold and tired

Yeah kinda sad and uninspired

But when it almost seemed too much

I see your face

And sense the grace

And feel the magic in your touch...

 Back and forth across the sea

I have chased so many dreams

But I have never felt the grace

That I have felt in your embrace

Oh I was tired and I was cold

Yeah with a hunger in my soul

When it almost seemed too much

I see your face

And sense the grace

And feel the magic in your touch

Probably the most powerful story we have in our gospels about healing touch is the story of the woman with the hemorrhage in Mark 5:25-34: "A woman who had had a hemorrhage for twelve years, and had endured much at the hands of many physicians, and had spent all that she had and was not helped at all, but rather had grown worse— after hearing about Jesus, she came up in the crowd behind him and touched his cloak. For she thought, 'If I just touch his garments, I will get well.' Immediately the flow of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction.  Immediately Jesus, perceiving in himself that the power proceeding from him had gone forth, turned around in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” And his disciples said to him, 'You see the crowd pressing in on you, and you say, "Who touched me?"' And he looked around to see the woman who had done this. But the woman fearing and trembling, aware of what had happened to her, came and fell down before him and told him the whole truth.  And he said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your affliction.'"

Perhaps many of us find this story bizarre and unintelligible. For, as the disciples said, others were crowding around. How does a touch move energy in this way?  How is it possible for Jesus (for anyone) to feel a drain of his power from a touch? How can that be healing? I used to be one of those confused by this, although, as I reflect back there have been rare people who've reached out to hug me who have felt like, in doing so, they have literally been a drain on my energy.  I think the reason we are not aware of the power in touch is because we don't spend time being conscious of it or giving it any thought at all.  Most experiences of physical touch, especially platonic hugs in our culture, are very short, which does not allow for any kind of awareness of energy exchanged. In my own experience, most of the time hugs that are longer have also felt like mutual exchanges of affection or energy.  When it comes to hugging one's children, or kissing the wounds of one’s kids, I think there is an unconscious expectation that we are giving more in the hug, more energy, more care, than we are receiving because our children need that from us.  We don't think about it much, therefore. It is normal, natural, unconscious, but still a real exchange of power or energy, that can, at times leave us tired. But we aren't very conscious about power leaving one and going to another through touch. 

Our animals seem more aware of this than we are.  I know many of us have had the experience of being sick and finding our pets snuggled up next to us as if the warmth of their bodies and the healing in their touch could make us well.  They intuitively seem to understand this, much more than we do.

For myself, the only times I had even had even a small sense of this were the rare times when, in hugging someone who was at the bottom of their energy, I have left the exchange feeling drained afterwards; or those times when I've felt that my pets cuddles really were speeding along my recovery from illness.  But I had never before experienced healing touch personally... until I met David.  Again, no, this is not about sex.  But I will tell you, with a deep honesty, that I had never before felt the kind of hug, the kind of touch where my cells felt like they were being healed, nurtured, fed, rejuvenated before I had been held by David. His hugs do that to me.  Not every time.  And I can't tell you why or when they are different.  But there are times when the healing feels so deep, so real, that it moves me to tears.  I don't know if this is a gift he has, or if it is a gift he has for me. He has acknowledged that sometimes he, too, feels the "power drain from him" and it leaves him tired, though it has never stopped him from reaching out.  I wish I were not the occasional source of that drain on him, but at the same time, I am so very grateful that he has given me this healing touch that I obviously deeply needed.  I am grateful for the healing, but I am also grateful for the insight it has given me into the power of touch, the reality of healing touch, the need for that connection that can rejuvenate, rebuild, and restore us. 

I want to acknowledge that of course there is another side to this.  The worst damage that can be done to another involves touch as well: rape, assault, abuse can destroy not only bodies, but souls.  That, too, must be named.  Touch is powerful - for either good or evil, it is powerful.  Therefore we must touch with respect, with permission, with consent, ALWAYS.  Because it is so powerful, we must, must, must be especially aware and careful of how we touch one another.  But I believe this is true of all of our deepest gifts.  They are given to us to use for good.  But the amount of good they can do is only equaled by the amount of damage they can do if used for harm.

The power of touch is immense.  So, I’d like to end this time by inviting you, as you are comfortable, to touch a person near you – take their hand, touch their shoulder, again, as you are comfortable and I’d like us to take a moment to pray together:

“Loving, Healing God, may we be carriers of your healing presence and grace.  Make us channels of the love and wisdom of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.  May we listen with your ears, may your wisdom guide our words and reveal to us that which we need to see.  May we bring your loving presence to all whom we touch, speak to, hear and care for. Right now we especially ask for your healing care for each of the people whom we are near or touching at this moment.  We ask for this healing in Christ’s name and according to your will.  Amen.”

The Power of Touch ("The Power of..." Part III)

         There is a Thompson Twin's song called Lay Your Hands On Me.  Some of the lyrics that I find especially meaningful:

 This old life seemed much too long
With little point in going on
I couldn't think of what to say
Words just vanished in the haze
I was feeling cold and tired
Yeah kinda sad and uninspired
But when it almost seemed too much
I see your face
And sense the grace
And feel the magic in your touch...

 Back and forth across the sea
I have chased so many dreams
But I have never felt the grace
That I have felt in your embrace
Oh I was tired and I was cold
Yeah with a hunger in my soul
When it almost seemed too much
I see your face
And sense the grace
And feel the magic in your touch

        I understand that these words written by pop artists are probably intended to refer to a more sexualized touch that how they strike me, but they can be read either way, so I'm asking you readers, for the moment, to put aside that other understanding of these words and to stay with me in a very basic look at the power of touch to heal, to transform and to comfort.
        In many of our faith traditions there are rituals of healing, almost all of which involve some kind of touch. While many Western cultures have been mostly uncomfortable with touch (and really only seem to talk about or celebrate it in a sexualized context), other cultures still celebrate and emphasize the power of healing touch.  We are getting better: we now recognize the healing in massage and while acupressure has not received the same acceptance yet, it is moving in that direction.  But touch is something we still don't discuss very openly.

       In the CE Curriculum, A Sensual Faith by Ian Price (British Columbia, Canada: MediaCom Education, Inc, 2000), Dr. Tony Nancarrow shared this story:
      “It was Friday, the morning I was due to visit the geriatric ward of a large regional hospital where I was a minister.  I was anxious to get it over with as quickly as possible.  I found it difficult to talk with these elderly people.  There was a nurses’ aid at the hospital – a very practical person.  She was middle-aged, overworked, a gruff no-nonsense type of person.  Yet as she plodded around that ward on her tired feet, trembling arms were held out to her, faces turned towards her warm homely face, quavering voices called her by name.  And she, knowing the heart hunger, the loneliness of the old, was lavish with her touch.  She patted a cheek, pushed hair from a forehead, or sensing a really special need gave a hug.  As I watched her, I thought, if it works for her, perhaps it will work for me.  The response shook me to the soul.  Eyes that I thought dull as marbles kindled, wrinkled hands returned my clasp.  As I was leaving, I noticed an old German woman.  Her hand, brown-flecked, dry as a leaf, lay upon the chair.  I touched it.  It was cold.  She looked up in recognition with eyes I’d always thought of as vacant.  And in response to the deepest need in all of us, she said, “I’m lonely.  Hold my hand.”

        From a Christian faith perspective, our gospels tell us that Jesus did a great deal of his healing through touch.  The synoptic gospels also share an interesting story about power claimed through touch: healing occurring through one person claiming the healing power of another by touching them. The story of the woman with the hemorrhage in Mark 5:25-34:

A woman who had had a hemorrhage for twelve years, and had endured much at the hands of many physicians, and had spent all that she had and was not helped at all, but rather had grown worse— after hearing about Jesus, she came up in the crowd behind him and touched his cloak. For she thought, “If I just touch his garments, I will get well.” Immediately the flow of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction.  Immediately Jesus, perceiving in himself that the power proceeding from him had gone forth, turned around in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you, and you say, ‘Who touched me?’” And he looked around to see the woman who had done this. But the woman fearing and trembling, aware of what had happened to her, came and fell down before him and told him the whole truth.  And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your affliction.”

      Perhaps many of us find this story bizarre and unintelligible. For, as the disciples said, others were crowding around. How does a touch move energy in this way?  How is it possible for Jesus (for anyone) to feel a drain of his power from a touch? How can that be healing? I used to be one of those confused by this, although, as I reflect back there have been rare people who've reached out to hug me who have felt like, in doing so, they have literally been a drain on my energy.  I think the reason we are not aware of the power in touch is because we don't spend time being conscious of it or giving it any thought at all.  Most experiences of physical touch, especially platonic hugs in our culture, are very short, which does not allow for any kind of awareness of energy exchanged. In my own experience, most of the time hugs that are longer have also felt like mutual exchanges of affection or energy.  When it comes to hugging one's children, I think there is an unconscious expectation that we are giving more in the hug, more energy, more care, than we are receiving because our children need that from us.  We don't think about it much, therefore. It is normal, natural, unconscious, but still a real exchange of power or energy, that can, at times leave us tired. But we aren't very conscious about power leaving one and going to another through touch.  

        Our animals seem more aware of this than we are.  I know many of us have had the experience of being sick and finding our pets snuggled up next to us as if the warmth of their bodies and the healing in their touch could make us well.  They intuitively seem to understand this, much more than we do.

         For myself, the only times I had even had even a small sense of this were the rare times when, in hugging someone who was at the bottom of their energy, I have left the exchange feeling drained afterwards; or those times when I've felt that my pets cuddles really were speeding along my recovery from illness.  But four years ago, my own experience changed my understanding of all of this.

       Before I tell you my story, I want to say that I've always been a very affectionate person.  Still, when I took the "love language" test in the book The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, I was surprised to find that, according to the test at least, my primary love language was physical affection (again, this is not primarily about sex: this is about how we understand that we are loved and it turns out I mostly understand that through hugs and other physical expressions of care). What this reflects, though, is the reality that in my almost 50 years of life I've experienced a great deal of physical affection. I've given a lot of hugs, I've received a lot of hugs.  I am very affectionate with my children and with my friends. (I am less so at church only because we've been trained in our "boundary" classes to always allow parishioners to initiate hugs lest we overstep personal space or invade in a way that is harmful.)  I value and enjoy massages.  I even took a number of massage classes at one point thinking that I might become a massage therapist.  I believe in the healing power of touch.  

      But despite all of this, despite a great deal of touch  I had never before experienced healing touch personally... until I met David.  Again, no, this is not about sex. This is not going to be a TMI situation.  But I will tell you, with a deep honesty, that I had never before felt the kind of hug, the kind of touch where my cells felt like they were being healed, nurtured, fed, rejuvenated before I had been held by David. His hugs do that to me.  Not every time.  And I can't tell you why or when they are different.  But there are times when the healing feels so deep, so real, that it moves me to tears.  I don't know if this is a gift he has, or if it is a gift he has for me. He has acknowledged that sometimes he, too, feels the "power drain from him" and it leaves him tired, though it has never stopped him from reaching out.  I wish I were not the occasional source of that drain on him, but at the same time, I am so very grateful that he has given me this healing touch that I obviously deeply needed.  I am grateful for the healing, but I am also grateful for the insight it has given me into the power of touch, the reality of healing touch, the need for that connection that can rejuvenate, rebuild, and restore us.  

       I want to acknowledge that of course there is another side to this.  The worst damage that can be done to another involves touch as well: rape, assault, abuse can destroy not only bodies, but souls.  That, too, must be named.  Touch is powerful - for either good or evil, it is powerful.  Therefore we must touch with respect, with permission, with consent, ALWAYS.  Because it is so powerful, we must, must, must be especially aware and careful of how we touch one another.  But I believe this is true of all of our deepest gifts.  They are given to us to use for good.  But the amount of good they can do is only equaled by the amount of damage they can do if used for harm.

       The power of touch is immense. I encourage us all to be more aware of the reality of that power. May we strive always to use it for good!

(I apologize for the bizarre formatting in this article.  I've tried to edit it and the program is simply not allowing me to do so...).

Understanding, Learning and Growing through Touch

So, for those of you who read the notes I had on this, I again apologize for the confusion.  But here is the "real" article, rather than just my scatty notes:
       
        On our vacation this summer, we did most of the usual Northern CA touristy things.  I wanted to re-introduce children who had been too little to remember the area when we left to those things that had been enjoyable and educational to me about growing up in the Bay Area (and that we hadn't already done, like Muir Woods and Golden Gate Park, etc.).  We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium (though I have to admit, we have been there many times), Carmel's beach and art galleries, to Hearst Castle and the Marin Marine Mammal Center, to the Bay Model and Marin Headlands, to Columbia, Moaning Caverns and Half Moon Bay, Filoli Gardens, Black Diamond Mines, Meekham Arboretum and even the Oakland Zoo. We went to the Drive in Movie theater and the It's It factory, we took the train up to Old Sacramento and went to the Train Museum.  We took the Ferry from Vallejo to Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf. Some of us went to Santa Cruz. We hiked down from Mt. Diablo on a long night hike and we spent two days hiking around Yosemite, up the falls, around Glacier Point, etc.  We heard a talk in Yosemite by Mountain Climber Ron Kauk and spent time afterwards talking with him about Restorative Justice.  We were active, busy, learning, seeing, experiencing.  
       Everywhere we went I was struck again and again by the reality and realization that those things that were touched, not just seen or heard, but touched and experienced physically - those were the things that had the most impact on us.  The things I held or experienced (hiking, breathing in the trees' scent, feeling the waterfalls spray on my arms and face), those are the things that will remain with me.  The things I just saw or heard?  Not so much.
       In education we talk a lot about those who are visual learners vs. those who are audio learners.  I remember taking a test in one of the education classes at seminary on which kind of learner I was.  Interestingly, while they said that most people are visual learners, and a few less are audio learners, they also acknowledged that there is a small group of people that are something else.  I was part of that "something else" and came up as a "kinetic" learner.  It's true, I am.  I learn by doing, by being in a place, by moving and acting.  
       As we walked around all of these special places, I was struck by how much all people, and especially children, actually learn more through touch.  In every Museum we went to, and every outdoor place and every garden and every...well, every place we went, the young children especially were trying to climb and touch and handle and learn through their hands and bodies.  They yearned to explore, to feel, to hold, to climb on and around everything we saw.  
       What was equally true, though, was that as much as all of them wanted to touch and explore and experience, the universal mantra and the signs on everything instead yelled at these young people constantly, "Do Not touch!"  "Do Not climb!"  "Do Not Pick Up!"  And as I watched the kids with more rule-abiding parents work hard to restrain their kids and keep them from doing what was natural, learning through touch; and as I watched the kids whose parents were paying less attention take off and climb and touch and handle all those forbidden things with wonder and joy and curiosity, I found myself deeply troubled.  Do we take away from our kids their best methods of learning, of living, and being part of this world?  Do we, like we used to do by forbidding left-handers to use their left hands, harm our children by denying them the natural ways of growing that they, by instinct, thrive on?  Is the reason most of us are labeled "visual" learners simply because we've been so denied our natural and deeply primary way of learning that we have, in fact, abandoned it in many cases?  
       Touch is so incredibly meaningful in all of our lives.  Our family watched Temple Grandin last night.  And again, I found myself reflecting on the importance of touch.  As a person with autism, Temple did not like people to touch her, but she did want to be "hugged" by something cocoonish that she made.  Touch remained incredibly important. Avoiding it may have been avoiding a kind of intimacy with that which she could not understand that therefore felt threatening.  But touch also calmed her, when done correctly.  My eldest child reacted to the traumas in her life by putting up a physical barrier.  She allows me to hug her and even invites it from me, but she has put up a wall against all others, a physical way of refusing to connect with other people.  In contrast, my younger two climb all over each other and me and the world every opportunity they have. However, my son, with his sensory integration disorder, has to choose any touch that he experiences.  If someone approaches him and touches him without him seeing it coming, it hurts him.  For myself, when my world flipped upside down I found that the person who had done the flipping became "untouchable" for me - that a touch from him felt (feels) like a burn. The harm I had experienced became embodied in this physical reaction.  In contrast, there have been times when I have been held that it literally felt that the holding was melting away all the pain in the world. The healing that can be done by touch is real.  
        Touch has the ability to heal, it has the ability to hurt, it has the ability to teach and it has the ability to harm.  It reflects our feelings, our fears, our intimacies and our needs.  To deny its importance is to deny something central to our humanity.  
         So I find myself returning to the place I started. Some of our cultural centers, especially children's museums and science centers, are coming to understand more fully the importance of touch and are allowing places where kids can interact with what they see.  But I think we are too slow in this movement, and still too cautious about touch.  To touch is to understand, to know, to experience, to connect with.  
         As I reflect back on our vacation, I will especially remember those things that involved all of my senses as well as my breath and my movements.  I deeply value the hikes where rocks were touched, birds heard, trees and places smelled, beauty seen and body challenged.  I am grateful for the long and strenuous hikes, climbs and descents.  I am grateful for the hands I shook, the humans I touched and with whom I was able to connect. I am grateful for the opportunities my kids had to do the same.  And I pray we can continue to move forward in our honoring of touch as a way to understand and to connect, not only to one another, but to all our world.  

Wednesday's Sermon - healing

It remains a challenge for me to "post" my Wednesday sermons because I only use an outline and it is much more interactive sermon that Sunday mornings.  But since it was requested that I try to post this, I'm doing my best to recreate what I said last night:

Healing

Mark 1:29-45

            What things did Jesus do in his ministry?

            Teaching, preaching and healing.  Anything else?

            Why healing?  Do you think it was to get people’s attention so that they would pay attention to him?  Do you think it was so people would like him, come to listen to him?  Was he trying to be liked? 

            Jesus spent a lot of time touching, caring for, listening to, and engaging people that other people rejected.  Those with leprosy were outcasts.  They couldn’t live with their families and it was assumed that someone in their family or the person themself, must have done something wrong and that is why this person was sick.  Disease was seen as punishment.  Some people still have this thinking but they call it Karma.  While some have a different understanding of what Karma is (so I’m not knocking the idea itself), others believe that while it may not be clear why some suffer and others don’t, they must have done something to deserve it, either in this life or in a past life.  But Jesus first confronted it with words like “the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous.” and “He replied, “Do you think the suffering of these … proves that they were more sinful than all the others?  No, I tell you!”  But he went much further than just declaring that it wasn’t their fault that they were afflicted.

            He touched, he talked to and he healed any who were in need – the rejected, the outcast, the condemned, the judged, the dismissed.  He touched them, included them, treated them as the incredible and beautiful people that they were, regardless of how others treated them.

            I have a ten dollar bill here.  If I mangle it and squish it and stomp on it, if I make it dirty or even filthy, what is it then worth?  It is still worth ten dollars.  The appearance, the condition, the outward attributes of this money don’t change it’s worth.  Well, Jesus was able to see that this is the same with people.  He saw beyond the outside of the bill.  He saw beyond the dirt, the scrounge, the disease.  He saw beyond the vocations, the judgments, the rejections.  He saw beyond their mistakes, their sins, their choices.  He saw beyond all of that to who they WERE.  And who they were is the same as who you are – you are a child of God.  Worthy of infinite value. 

            I came across an article in Sojourner’s Magazine that was talking about Henri Nouwen.  Henri Nouwen was an amazingly gifted priest, professor and writer.  I love his books, I love the way he thinks.  He has a brilliant as well as deeply faithful and spiritual mind.  But after teaching for many years, he was invited to become pastor to a community of people with intellectual disabilities.  He soon discovered that they didn’t care how brilliant he was, and all the wonderful things he had written and taught just didn’t mean that much to them.  He told the story in one of his books, Life of the Beloved, of one particular woman, Janet who one day asked Henri for a blessing.  When he tried to bless her with the sign of the cross on her forehead she became very upset and said, “No, I want a real blessing!”  He didn’t know what to do with that, but that evening at worship, he mentioned that Janet had asked for a real blessing and she marched up to the front and gave him a huge hug.  In that moment, he found the words that were needed.  “Janet, I want you to know that you are God’s beloved daughter.  You are precious in God’s eyes.  Your beautiful smile, your kindness to the people in your house, and all the good things you do show us what a beautiful human being you are.  I know you feel a little low these days and that there is some sadness in your heart, but I want you to remember who you are: a very special person, deeply loved by God and all the people who are here with you.”  She gave him a satisfied smile, but as Nouwen then turned away, he found himself bombarded with the others in the community also asking for blessings.  Henri gave each a hug and affirmation that they are loved as they are.  And Henri walked away a changed man.

            I am reminded of this clip.   The man who did this did one for men as well, but I’m just including the one for the women here:

            This is a beautiful sentiment.  But the reality is that it is a different thing when that kind of blessing comes from someone who really knows you and really loves you, when the blessing is genuine because it is real.  One of our lines that we sing is “This is what I’m sure of, I can only show love When I really know how loved I am. When it overtakes me, Then it animates me, Flowing from my heart into my hands.”

            Jesus not only healed bodies of the outcast, of the oppressed, of the disadvantaged, of the physically broken.  He healed their souls by showing them, reminding them, acting in a way that said beyond a doubt that they were loved and valued, that they were worthy, that God still saw them as more important and beautiful than anything they could imagine.  We are invited to do the same.  As we are called to follow, we heal others by showing them how loved they are.  Go into the world, affirming, uplifting, and healing one another.  Amen.