I sat tonight with the “one.” Well, there were really 9, but I’m going to flip this for the sake of analogy.
Nine individuals – different ages, different genders, different faith traditions, different organizational affiliations, different nationalities – sharing one thing in common; the One. Two things in common really – the One they serve, and the cause for which they serve Him today; the eradication of Ebola and it’s horrors and ravages. It was the International Fellowship in Sierra Leone. South Africa, Ireland, England, Holland, Sierra Leone and America met in a tiny living room in Freetown for Bible study and prayer.
In reality, it was an international-cosmic wrestling match. Nine people sharing a common struggle. That struggle was not the battle against Ebola. Oh, they shared that too. But, the struggle this evening was with God. Why, O Lord? How long, O Lord?? And along with Habakkuk, we wrestled through hard questions. A God who is good, yet allows such bad? A God who is sovereign and powerful, yet for now refuses to halt a plague? A God rich in mercy, who has yet to demonstrate it here?
Hard questions – but necessary ones. And appropriate ones. Maybe they grate on you. If so, maybe you haven’t yet wrestled hard. Habakkuk wrestled (Hab. 1-3) – and God won. Job wrestled (Job 13:15) – and God won. God always wins. But in the wrestling, we win too. He loves when we wrestle with him, argue, yell even. It gives us the opportunity to hear His side.
But one of the questions that came out of this evening was the issue of laborers for the harvest. This is a conversation we’ve had frequently in our organization, and we are not alone. When I read the numbers of deaths from Ebola, I know that 9.5 out of 10 of those deaths went into a Christ-less eternity. People are dying like flies, and they are going to hell. This has serious implications for Christ-followers. Of course, the millions who die around the world each year without ever having heard the Gospel always has serious implications for Christ-followers. It’s why Christ’s last words to us on earth are so weighty.
When we follow the command to “Go and make disciples,” we do it not out of obligatory duty. Instead, we go out of deep, compassionate gratitude for our own rescue! We were once destined for eternal damnation too, but the mercy of God, through the testimony of one of His followers, brought us to the saving grace of His Son. Someone told us.
There once was a man in ancient Israel, destitute and outcast from his community. Leprosy had long since robbed him of his humanity, at least in the eyes of others. He had become an anathema – ugly, disfigured, putrid. It was his job to keep others safe – from himself. He was obliged to call out “Unclean!” wherever he went. Hope had departed the day he found the first white spot those years ago. His wife took their children and ran. His house was condemned and destroyed and he was relegated to the streets and gutters. His only food was what others didn’t want and deigned to throw his way.
But one day, a spark of hope ignited. He saw an old friend. Almost missed him really, until the man called out his name. In shock he turned. Why was someone speaking to him? And how did he know his name? He had been called “that leper” for so long, he had nearly forgotten it himself! He finally recognized the man as one of his begging buddies. He too had had leprosy, but he now appeared to be well! What manner of witchery was this?!? This doesn’t happen. He said a man named Jesus had come to his town, and when He saw him passing, he called out for help, on the off-chance Jesus might be kind-hearted and throw him some food.
Food indeed!! Jesus stopped and touched him, telling him that he had been made clean. And he was. The leper could not believe it – would not believe it. You know what they say about things that sound too good to be true… But there before him stood his friend. “Go to Him,” he urged. “He will heal you too, and you can be free!”
A few days passed, accompanied by some sleepless nights. The leper couldn’t get this out of his mind. Could this really be? Freedom from this prison of rejection and death? He had heard that this Jesus was coming their way. Maybe it would be worth a try. But he was scared to go alone. In the morning, he talked to his begging buddies. They gathered each morning to decide who would stand where for the day. They rotated out the spots that were known to be the most lucrative. This morning he told them about their friend, the former leper. They were as skeptical as he.
“Why not?” they decided. “What could it hurt?”
So they went. All ten of them. They found Jesus as he was coming into town. He smiled at them. He called out to them, “Go show yourselves to the priest.” And they turned away, disappointed. “See,” they told their friend, “he wouldn’t even come near us. He’s just like the others.” They left disappointed. The leper was perplexed. He remembered his friend, the one who had told him about Jesus, and wondered what had gone wrong. It must be because I’m a Samaritan, he thought. Suddenly, he stopped. He stared at his hands, stubby fingers restored to full-length, and his feet, ten toes where there had been only portions of three. He was amazed! Could it be? Had he too been healed?? As the realization of what had just occurred sank in, he was overcome with gratitude. He left his friends, still grumbling and disappointed, having not yet realized what had transpired, and found Jesus again.
Trembling, he fell at Jesus’ feet and thanked him with loud praises. Jesus asked him, “Weren’t there ten of you who were healed? Where are the other nine? Rise and go your way, your faith has made you well.” And rise he did – his life forever changed.
A changed leper, in gratitude tells another leper where to find cleansing, freedom, life. In his own gratitude, he tells others. And so it grows. Life. Wholeness. Healing.
In the battle against Ebola there are few believers. There are thousands of health care workers, humanitarian aid people and relief personnel throughout West Africa working to cure, heal, prevent, feed, and care for those whose lives have been ruined by Ebola. But only a handful of them are followers of Christ. Why is that?? I really don’t know.
What makes 265 Cuban health care workers – communists – risk their lives to save others? What makes atheists and those jaded and hurt by the Church give up their comfort to rescue the sick, the dying, and the orphans? For some it could be money. If you go with the right organization, you can make a boat-load of money in Ebola work. But ultimately, it is the Imago Dei. Each one of them, regardless of their view of God, was made in His image, and His common grace drives them to act out His compassion.
What makes Christ-followers afraid to go? Decide the risk is not worth it? Decide that the shore is better than the sea?
We have so much more than common grace! We have saving, healing, restoring grace! I can assure you that the nine people I sat with tonight were not there for the money. They were there as grateful lepers. Having been rescued and healed and changed, their gratitude drives them to tell others. In the midst of their grueling, laborious, sorrowful days, in spite of the painful wrestling with injustice and overwhelming grief, they breathe out grace and tell others where to find hope, knowing that the next person Ebola strikes may have never heard of the love of Christ.
But why so few?
My fellow ex-lepers, where are the other nine??