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 “What’s
a bathroom break?” you ask.
Simply
put, a bathroom break is a small, easy-to-read chapter that’s designed to
drive home a key Love Jesus, Hate Church point in a single sitting—
long before your legs fall asleep and go numb (if you know what I mean).
So
grab a seat and let’s see if we can flush out some Love Jesus, Hate
Church truth from the life of Jesus and hold it up and compare it to
the life of the church today.
Should
be quite an eye-opening experience.
Latex Gloves and Hands-on Ministry
Throughout
the earthly ministry of Jesus we find Him meeting the needs of people in
ways that don’t seem to make much sense today— in ways that aren’t
politically correct, esteemed, encouraged, modeled, or even taught by the
modern church. How? Jesus met the needs of hurting people with His own two
hands.
Oh
yuck!
Oh yeah.
Jesus had this nasty habit of touching the people He ministered to. Not in
the aloof and detached, Reach Out and Touch Somebody Southern
Bell kind of way. No, Jesus literally touched people with His own hands.
Flesh to flesh.
He
was an active participant in the lives of those He changed.
Did
you ever wonder why?
He
refused to insulate Himself from those the world had forgotten, the
discards of society— the throwaways. Jesus intimately involved Himself in
the lives of those to whom He ministered.
How different from the church today.
Puzzled?
Well, think about it for a moment.
Puss-Oozing
Sores: The first miracle recorded in Matthew has Jesus healing a man with
leprosy with a human touch. Matthew clearly records that Jesus “stretched
out His hand and touched him.”
Why?
I mean, what’s the purpose or point of that? Why didn’t Jesus just say the
word or think the thought or wave His hand or… anything? Why did He have
to heal this man that way?
What about the stench of rotting flesh or the risk of contagious
infection? What about the opinions of the crowd and the personal scorn and
reproach He would bring upon Himself by actually doing something so
disgusting, so unsettling and so frowned upon by society?
Couldn’t Jesus have healed this man another way?
Answer: Of course.
But He chose not to.
Again, did you ever wonder why?
Maybe Jesus was more concerned about the
whole man He was about to heal
and not just his physical body. Maybe Jesus understood that, from the day
the Priest pointed an accusing finger and screamed, “Unclean!”— this man
had never felt the embrace of another human. His family, his friends and
the church of his day all rejected him as something unworthy of ministry,
unworthy of human involvement. Something unclean.
But not Jesus.
Maybe Jesus wanted to give this man the one thing he longed for more than
life itself. Maybe Jesus wanted to show him that someone cared— that God
still cared. And maybe He wanted to express this love with a simple touch.
Just like the church today, huh?
Yeah, right.
Soured Buttermilk: Later in the same chapter we find Jesus at the bedside
of Peter’s mother-in-law who was suffering with a fever. What does He do?
He ignores the sick, sweet smell— you know, the smell of soured buttermilk
that probably filled the room, takes her hand and heals her of her fever.
Why couldn’t Jesus have stayed with the rest of the disciples in the
living room watching the Atlanta Braves on TBS? Why did He have to go into
her room and take her hot, sweaty hand and heal her? Couldn’t there have
been an easier way?
Let’s quickly look at a few more.
Cold Flesh: Jesus touched the lifeless hand of Jarius’ daughter as He
spoke the words, “Talitha kum!” (which translated means, “Little girl, I
say to you, arise!”) before giving her back to her grieving parents. Why?
Why did He have to take the little girl by the hand? Couldn’t He have
given her back her life in a way that we felt more comfortable with?
Why does Jesus always have to make things so hard?
Dead Eyes: Jesus reached out and touched the eyes of two blind men and
instantly restored their sight. See the whole scene here— Jesus actually
placed His hands on the infected, empty eye sockets of two homeless street
people and gave them back their sight.
Ugh.
Why? Why did He have to touch their dirty, nasty, crusty eyes?
Couldn’t there have been another way to heal these blind men? Maybe a
cleaner, safer, more “socially acceptable” way?
Tongue and Spit: Mark records that Jesus put His fingers in the ears and,
after spitting, He touched the tongue of a deaf-mute man with His spit
before healing him.
I mean, come on! Isn’t that kind of nasty? Extreme? We’re talking about
overkill here!
Couldn’t Jesus have chosen another way to heal this man?
Once again, why does He always seem to make it so hard?
Rubbing Dirty Heads: But Jesus’ hands-on involvement wasn’t only reserved
for the outcasts who needed healing— the health care rejects. The
Scriptures also state that He took little children in His hands and
blessed them by laying His hands on them.
Why? Because we have this nagging tendency to want to touch, hold and
embrace the things we love, and to keep our hands safely stuffed deep in
our pockets around the things we don’t— whether they’re family, children,
friends or blind beggars.
And, like us, Jesus touched the things He loved.
Latex Gloves and Body Condoms
But that doesn’t really play too well in the church today, does it?
Nope. Did you ever wonder why?
It seems our current brand of
churchanity will talk itself blue in the
face about being the “hands and feet” of the Lord just as long as we can
do so in the comfort and safety of our padded pews. Oh, we can sing a few
choruses of the ol’ “Here I Am, Send Me…” mission song and preach about it
when we begin to feel guilty. But if we’re brutally honest with ourselves—
that’s pretty much as far as the “hands and feet”, “walk like Jesus
walked” and “I want to be like Jesus” kind of ministry crap goes.
Why? Because we’ve been taught to minister
only within the context of the
sterile, germ-free, antiseptic environment we’ve created for our own
comfort and ease. We want to bring people to our buildings, dress them up
in attire acceptable to us, teach them the proper etiquette we practice
and then, “Praise God!” minister to them in the name of the Lord.
Really?
What we end up with is a full-blown case of “do what I say and not what I
do” style of ministry.
So what’s with the latex gloves form of ministry? What’s with the attitude
that “we want to minister to your needs just as long as we don’t get our
hands dirty?” Where are those who are willing to touch the lives of others
the way Jesus did— without latex gloves or a body condom? Where are those
who are more concerned about people than clean carpets, potluck suppers or
choir specials?
How can we sing praise and worship songs to the Father and yet refuse to
minister to the least among us He has placed in our midst?
“You know, that’s just not
my ministry.” Really? Then what is your
ministry?
“I just don’t feel comfortable with
those kind of people.” Really? What
kind of people do you feel comfortable with? And when did your comfort
become the object of what Christ died for?
“God didn’t
call me to get my hands dirty in ministry.” Really? What did
He call you to do? Did He call you to sit on your fat butt and take up pew
space? Is your calling to be entertained on Sundays? Are you called to be
a religious Black Hole— you know, to be full of total darkness and sucking
up all the light around it?
Is this the purpose God has for your life? Didn’t think so.
But it’s exactly the kind of ministry that causes people to
Love Jesus and
Hate Church.
Makes me sad when I think about it. Does it you?
It should.
Postscript
Our bathroom break is now over.
Now, if you can tell the age of a giant redwood by counting the number of
its rings, you should be able to tell how long this bathroom break has
taken you by counting yours.
Until next time.
Flush.
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