He Will: Be Clean

A sermon preached at Covenant Presbyterian Church of Fort Smith, Arkansas on October 13, 2024.

While he was in one of the cities, there came a man full of leprosy. And when he saw Jesus, he fell on his face and begged him, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.” And Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, “I will; be clean.” And immediately the leprosy left him. And he charged him to tell no one, but “go and show yourself to the priest, and make an offering for your cleansing, as Moses commanded, for a proof to them.” But now even more the report about him went abroad, and great crowds gathered to hear him and to be healed of their infirmities. But he would withdraw to desolate places and pray. On one of those days, as he was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there, who had come from every village of Galilee and Judea and from Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with him to heal. And behold, some men were bringing on a bed a man who was paralyzed, and they were seeking to bring him in and lay him before Jesus, but finding no way to bring him in, because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the midst before Jesus. And when he saw their faith, he said, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” And the scribes and the Pharisees began to question, saying, “Who is this who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” When Jesus perceived their thoughts, he answered them, “Why do you question in your hearts? Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he said to the man who was paralyzed—“I say to you, rise, pick up your bed and go home.” And immediately he rose up before them and picked up what he had been lying on and went home, glorifying God. And amazement seized them all, and they glorified God and were filled with awe, saying, “We have seen extraordinary things today” (Luke 5:12–26).[1]

We might assume that Jesus’ followers lost count of the miracles he performed. In Capernaum alone, we are told, all the sick people were brought to Jesus and he healed them.[2] As his fame grew throughout the region, the sick surrounded him and he healed them, but we are not told about every person. If we were told of everything Jesus did, as the apostle John says, “the world itself could not contain the books that would be written” (John 21:25). So, when we are told something, we should take note. There is purpose in its presence and placement.

Such is the case in our passage today, where a man “full of leprosy” approached Jesus. And this was a problem. According to the ceremonial law anyone with a chronic skin disease was considered “unclean,” meaning he could not participate in worship but also, in the case of this diagnosed disease, and he was quarantined outside the city,[3] away from friends, family, and fellowship with others, often for life. Should he need to enter this city out of sheer necessity, according to the law, he was required to “wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head hang loose,” and as he walked through the city he was required to cry out, “Unclean, unclean” (Lev. 13:45-46). Though the law was given by God for the common good, you can imagine the societal stigma and shame that could accompany it.

Yet, somehow this man had learned of Jesus’ arrival, and so in tattered clothes and with his shaggy hair, crying out, “Unclean, unclean!”, he made his way to Jesus. The closer he got the people would have parted, clearing the path to his final destination, Jesus, before whom he fell on his face and begged, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.” It’s such a short statement but so rich with meaning. He refers to Jesus as “Lord,” the Greek word kyrie, which at the very least connotes complete submission. He asks, “if you will,” not “if you can.” He does not question Jesus’ authoritative power of disease but rather pleads for his mercy. He submits himself fully to the will of the Lord Jesus. He uses the language of the law, not “You can heal me” but “You can make me clean.” His desire goes deeper than his skin’s disease: He wants to be restored to the covenant community, to live his life and worship his God with his people. And he pleads that Jesus do something that no one else can. He longs to be healed, to be made clean, but even so he surrenders himself to the will of the Lord Jesus.

Commentator Dale Ralph Davis says, “Here is not some unclean human specimen for our condescending pity but a schoolmaster to bring us to Christ and to show us where all true faith in Jesus must begin.”[4] He who was isolated and ostracized had the audacity to come to town and approach the Lord Jesus, threatening to contaminate the cleanest of clean. Was it desperation, conviction, recklessness, all the above? It was faith. He believed that Jesus could, if he would, make the unclean clean. “And Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, ‘I will; be clean.’ And immediately the leprosy left him.”

The Compassion to Cleanse

According to the ceremonial law, if someone were to come into physical contact with a leper, that is someone diagnosed by a priest as having a chronic skin disease as defined in the law, then the one touched would become ceremonially unclean. Physical contact was to be avoided, according to the law, and Jesus was not ignorant of the law. And yet, he “stretched out his hand and touched him. And in that moment, when the clean touched the unclean, the unclean became clean.

Was it necessary for Jesus to touch him? After all, Jesus spoke the healing words, “I will; be clean.” If Jesus rebuked both demons and disease by his word alone, why did he touch this leprous man? As you think about this question, think about the leprous man’s perspective. How long had it been since this man had been touched by someone? His wife could not kiss him. His children could not hug him. He could not shake the hand of a friend. Who knows how long? But on that day, Jesus touched him and made him clean.

At the most basic level, this miracle reveals Jesus’ compassion. The leprous man was indeed made clean, but it began with physical contact. Jesus knew everything that man needed in that moment, starting with a loving touch. Jesus calls us to the same. As “God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved,” the apostle Paul says, “we are to put on “compassionate hearts” (Col. 3:12).

Your neighbor doesn’t need your condemnation, but he does need your compassion. As Christians, the apostle Peter says, we are to be “harmonious, sympathetic, affectionate, compassionate, and humble” (1 Pet. 3:8 NET). Your neighbor doesn’t need your castigation, but she does need to see your compassion.  

But, as I said at the beginning, when something that Jesus said or did is revealed to us in one of the Gospels, we must understand that it is not there merely as a matter of record. Though leprosy could serve as a physical and social death sentence for the sick, the disease was only skin deep. The defilement of sin, however, runs the course of our entire being, eating away at our humanity, and rendering us unclean for eternity. In our sinful state, we are “dead in [our] trespasses and sins” (Eph. 2:1). We are ostracized from God, his people, and the fellowship he intended. But just as Jesus chose to touch the leprous man, so he chose to become like us. He touched us by becoming like us that through faith in him we might become like him.

The Prerogative to Pray

According to the law, the requirement to be restored legally required presentation to and examination by a priest, and so Jesus sent the man on his way to “go and show ... and make an offering.” I would imagine he ran. But in his going and showing, Jesus said, there was to be no telling. Yet still the word got out and the crowds came to hear and be healed, and as they did, Jesus’ time to rest and pray was challenged. But not circumvented. Luke tells us that “he would withdraw to desolate places and pray.”

Don’t miss the significance of this short statement: The eternal Son of God incarnate withdrew to pray. The language connotes an ongoing practice of private prayer, and the context leads us to deduce its necessity. He chose, as we would say today, to “disconnect” to spend time with his Father. And so should we. Just as Jesus “would withdraw to desolate places and pray,” let us withdraw from our devices and distractions to a daily time of prayer and fellowship with our heavenly Father, that in it and through it we too may be strengthened to serve. Private prayer is essential to the fruitful Christian life.

The Authority to Absolve

We don’t know how often or how long Jesus would spend away in prayer, but we do know that he returned to ever-increasing crowds. As they grew, these crowds were comprised of believers, followers, enthusiasts, and doubters. On one occasion, Pharisees and lawyers, the religious watchdogs of the nation, came to listen and observe the phenomenon that was Jesus of Nazareth. On that day, as they heard Jesus teach, they also observed a descending man, on a bed, dangling down right before Jesus. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, horizontally but also vertically. A group of men, unable to reach Jesus because of the crowd, ingeniously devised a way to open the building’s roof and lower their paralyzed friend directly to the Great Physician. When Jesus looked up, he surely saw the descending bed but more importantly he “saw their faith,” an expression inclusive of the paralytic. They believed that Jesus could heal the man, and so they went to great efforts to hear Jesus say, “Rise and walk. Surely, they were surprised to hear instead, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” They weren’t the only ones surprised.

Why does Jesus respond this way? Is it a veiled reference to the man’s sins as the cause of his paralysis? And if so, why are we not all paralyzed? No, the answer is found not in the man but the purpose of Jesus’ miracles. This was a significant teaching moment in Jesus’ ministry: Don’t miss the lesson.

Jesus’ miracles were essential to his ministry, as a tangible witness to the presence and power of God. But miracles were not the point of Jesus’ ministry, as powerful as they were. Miracles were not an end in themselves but were a revelation and validation of Jesus’ identity. He could have said, “Rise and walk” first, but there was an eternal point to be made first: Jesus’ ministry from start to finish was the salvation of sinners. If Jesus had forgiven the man’s sins but not healed his paralysis, the man would have received the greatest gift that Jesus could give. He might not have ever walked but his soul would have jumped for joy for eternity.

But Jesus also responded this way to confront the unbelief of the lawyers and Pharisees, who immediately took offense, asking, “Who is this who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” Of course, they were exactly right. No one can forgive sins but God, and to equate yourself with God is blasphemy. Their doctrine was right, but their deduction was wrong. “Who is this?” This is the “Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, “God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God.” Because of who he is, what he does is not blasphemy but glory. Because of who he is, he has the authority to absolve.

He also has the authority to confront unbelief. Apart from faith in Christ, doctrine is dead. The hardened hearts of the Pharisees and lawyers knew much about God but not enough to be saved by the Son of God. And so, to their unbelief, Jesus asked, “Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’?” Of course, anyone can say anything, but is it true? What validates the truth? Here is the reason for Jesus’ miracles: “‘But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins’—he said to the man who was paralyzed—'I say to you, rise, pick up your bed and go home.’ And immediately he rose up before them and picked up what he had been lying on and went home, glorifying God”. He walked away forgiven, enabled and empowered to glorify God and enjoy him forever.

Luke tells us that “amazement seized them all, and they glorified God and were filled with awe, saying, ‘We have seen extraordinary things today’” (26). And indeed they had, but there was something more extraordinary to come. Upon a roman instrument of suffering and shame, he who had the authority to absolve sin became sin for us “so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). In his prerogative to pray, he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt. 27:46). In his compassion to cleanse, he cleansed us of our sin and made us clean forever. He who said to the paralytic, “rise, pick up your bed and go home,” arose from the dead, that we might be raised to new life, that we might walk in it, living our lives as testaments to the healing forgiveness we have received by God’s grace through faith in the one who made us clean.

[1] Unless referenced otherwise, all Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version (Wheaton: Crossway Bibles, 2001).

[2] Luke 4:40

[3] Lev. 13-14

[4] Dale Ralph Davis, Luke: The Year of the Lord’s Favor (Fearn: Christian Focus Publications, 2021), 94.