The Culture of the Rubber Glove

The scriptures are vast, deep and wider than can be explored fully in the scope of one’s natural life. As such, I find myself camping out in familiar places. There are certain passages that have become for me life passages - places of scripture that I go to regularly or rather come to me at peculiar times. This morning I woke thinking of the story of Christ’s encounter with the Leper. Not sure why this passage has always been one that feeds my soul, but it does, regularly.
In Luke 4, it begins, “While Jesus was in one of the towns, a man came along who as covered with leprosy.”
And of course we can imagine the scene. Here comes this guy who is visibly…not well. Not well at all. His appearance is so disgusting and the fear of infection so great among the crowds that we, if we were there, would be ill-advised to remain in close proximity. So we, like all the others, scatter. If we do not leave the scene altogether, we place ourselves at a significantly safer distance. No one wants to become sick.
While wellness on this side of the Jordan is illusory at best, advocating for it has become the high-pitched craze of our culture today. Certain individuals become so consumed with this trend that they become self-appointed ambassadors of the cause - the notorious, yet volunteer health police. A man tries to lose weight by drinking low-calorie drinks only to be lectured about the ill-effects of aspartame and sodium. You can’t drink a glass of old fashioned homogenized milk without the fat brigade looking at you funny. Everyday there is a new report that regular activity is dangerous, normal foods are deadly, certain necessary medicines are cancer-causing poisons. Educators seem the most eager to jump on the wellness bandwagon, and our children become the convenient emissaries of the crusade. Sometimes I hate to see them coming. Daddy, you know that cigars will kill you don’t you Daddy! Dad, cheeseburgers will kill you! Daddy, you know that fried food is bad for you. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…and fill in the blank.
Sick people these days thus are not looked at sympathetically. Sick people, often, are getting what they deserve. If only they had done this, that or the other, they wouldn’t be in this condition. Or if only they had abstained from this, that or the other they wouldn’t be ill. But let’s open our eyes. While healthy eating may contribute to a longer life, and I am not to be mistaken for making a theological case for my appreciation for the finer qualities of fast-food, we nevertheless all die. Each and everyone of us. Sickness catches up with all of us at some point and escorts us mercilessly to the grave, despite the volume of asparagus we may choose or fail to consume.
So we, if we were caught up in this story, would have admittedly been the first to flee. And the least likely to stick around during this person’s cry for help. We do not want to be around those who are sick. And most certainly not around those with infectious and terminal diseases. We are the culture of the rubber glove. We do not want our hands dirtied with the sicknesses of this world. And so we back-peddle. We retreat. But we do so at great cost to ourselves. Keep reading.Jesus did not retreat. By standing there, Jesus not only communicated that He was willing to risk infection on behalf of this man, but the fact that He did so serves as a metaphor of His willingness to internalize our infection and restore us all to the true state of health.
The more that I ruminate on the human condition and the older I get, the more I realize that there are only two types of people in this world. There are those who are not well. And then, there are those who know they are not well. The good fortune of this leper is that he knew how bad off he was. He knew that he was sick. He knew he needed help. The crowd of people who retreated were suffering with a much more deadly disease - the delusion that they were well. But Jesus knew they were sick. He knows that we, down to the last person, are deeply diseased.
There were many people in the crowd that day. But only one was touched by Jesus. It was the one who knew he was not well. If everyone there was thinking soberly, they would have all clasped the arms of the leper and proclaimed in unison with him, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” They would have identified themselves with the leper. And they would have felt the touch of Jesus!
Moreover, those of us who fail to see our own sickness thus see ourselves in relationship with the world in a skewed way. We are tempted to see ourselves as somehow better than the bum in the street or the single-parent in the project. If the church saw things rightly there would be a flood of missionaries in the streets identifying with the least and the lost. If the church saw things rightly, we would peel off our rubber gloves, roll up our sleeves and become like Jesus: touching the untouchable and changing the world!Lord help me to identify the leprosy within, so that I might experience afresh the healing touch of Jesus. And Lord make my hands willing to also touch the sickness of this world, so that I might be with Jesus in the ongoing work in His name!
by Mo LeverettRebirth International