|Main Street, Beit Shean|
Wherever He went --
in villages, cities, or the countryside --
they brought the sick out to the marketplaces.
They begged Him to let the sick
touch at the least the fringe of His robe,
and all who touched Him were healed.
~ From Mark 6
It's a true story.
But Jesus told another about a man who'd been accosted
and left bleeding on a road.
On a road with plenty of space
for the 'holy' men to cross to the other side
before they became unclean with the touch of bleeding death.
Unlike those men, our Jesus waded in among the ruined.
He let His clothes and Himself be grasped at by the desperate;
by the ones dragged and carried to Him;
the ones who limped to Him;
and the ones who crawled along the way,
trying to stay out from under the trampling feet of the healthy.
There were, I am sure, those who had earned their misery.
They had done what ought not to have been done,
and were suffering in themselves the due penalty for their sins.
And there were those who had been sinned against by others,
or failed in some way by those who ought to have been more careful.
He was a magnet for them all.
For the broken and the damaged.
The ones forbidden from the sanctuary.
The ones forbidden from society.
The fringe of His robe would be where the dirt collected.
Where the dust of His feet was kicked up in a cloud.
Maybe I can touch some of the dirt that touched Him.
I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,
and He turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
and steadied me as I walked along.
He has given me a new song to sing,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see what He has done and be amazed.
They will put their trust in the Lord.
~From Psalm 40
I was so foolish and ignorant;
I was like a beast before You.
Nevertheless I am continually with You;
You hold me by my right hand.
You will guide me with Your counsel,
and afterward receive me to glory.
~ From Psalm 73