St Luke the Evangelist

A sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on October 13, 2024 by Revd Richard Carter

Reading for address: Luke 5: 12-25

St Luke, known as ‘the Beloved Physician’ (Col 4.14) is believed to be also the author of both the Gospel of Luke and also Acts of the Apostles. Traditionally many have surmised that Luke could have been a medical doctor shown by the great concern the Gospel has for the sick and its use of medical language. It is believed Luke was a Gentile by birth (Col 4.11-14) a Christian by conversion and a Companion of Paul, accompanying him on his missionary journeys. But we really learn most about the character of Luke by the books he wrote. He is as one ancient writer put it ‘the scribe of the gentleness of Christ’.

Luke shows us how Jesus the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost. At every step of his life, Jesus in Luke’s Gospel addresses the lost, the poor and lowly: Jesus’ birth, his witnesses, his miracles; his teaching; his parables; his relationships all focus on those in need. It is only Luke’s Gospel that tells us the story of the Lost Sons and the Good Samaritan. It is Luke’s Gospel that recognises the foundational role of woman as models of discipleship: Luke gives a very special place in his Gospel to women. The story of Christ’s birth is told from Mary’s point of view. He shows how she becomes the model for all believers in her readiness to obey the will of God. It is in Luke that we read of Elizabeth, of Anna, of the widow at Nain, of the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet in the house of Simon the Pharisee and he gives us portraits of Martha, Mary and Mary Magdalene.

Compassion for the sinner and the lost is at the heart of this Gospel. It is the Jesus of Luke’s Gospel who weeps over the doomed city, that was soon to crucify him, and who on the cross prays, ‘Father, forgive them, they do not know what they are doing’, and promises the repentant thief a place in paradise. It is this Gospel which in the words of Mary’s Magnificat pulls down the mighty from their thrones and lifts up the lowly. It is in Luke’s Acts of the Apostles that those fearful disciples locked in an upper room are empowered by the Holy Spirit at Pentecost to become the witnesses of the crucified but risen Jesus to the ends of the earth. If you want to hear more about that inspiration then you should read or watch Sam Wells’ lecture from last Monday.

In today’s Gospel of healing this theme of Christ’s intense compassion and love for those on the edge is explored. First Luke’s Gospel tells us of Jesus’ meeting with a man covered with leprosy. It is perhaps difficult for us to fully realise the implications of leprosy – the fear and the shame. A leper was an object of horror in Jesus’ society, not only because of the terror of the disease itself and its mutilation of the skin and body, but because it rendered the sufferer unclean – excluded from worship, social interaction- one who must be removed from society and who simply by touching another could make another unclean too and feared as ‘spreaders’ of disease. This was not just an individual disease this was a social disease. And of course a sickness of this nature also carried implication of sin and God’s condemnation and punishment. In our Gospel I am struck by the courage of the leper who though looking at the ground – unable to look into the face of Jesus, still cries out, ‘If you choose you can make me clean.’ In this cry for healing there is also the realization of a faith that others have not grasped. That it is within Jesus’ gift to bring salvation to this man if he so chooses. And the remarkable response of Jesus is this, ‘I do choose. Be made clean.’ These are words not just addressed to a leper. They are words addressed to each one of us who hear this Gospel but fear that we too are somehow excluded. Now as much as then. Jesus chooses us. He chooses to turn to see us, to hear us, and to save. ‘I do choose you. Be made clean.’ All of us need to hear the healing in those words. The orientation of God towards us. What these words are saying is that no one, no one, however outcast, or condemned, however rejected and fearful, or unworthy they may feel, is outside the saving power of Jesus. Jesus is extending the kingdom of God. Jesus is orientated – towards you- and in recognition of our need of him – we are open to that love too. And now the next words. Jesus stretches out and touches him. Touches the one who is unclean and by implication is ready to make himself unclean too for the sake of us – each one of us. That reaching out breaks through fear and taboo, prejudice and isolation. This is Jesus ready to touch us in the place of our greatest need and shame – to show us that we too – the whole of us, our bodies, our stories, our past, our greatest fear – is not outside of God’s love – Jesus does choose. He chooses us. Imperfect though we are. The healing of our souls begins with Jesus’ acceptance of us as we are. Look towards your own wounded heart – it is there that Christ chooses you. So often religion has driven us away from healing – believing that we are condemned rather than chosen – judged rather than accepted. Julian of Norwich describes God’s acceptance in this way: ‘In your eyes you do not stand. In God’s eyes you do not fall. I see both to be true but God’s insight is the deeper,’ says Julian. It is the recognition of our total need of God that we realise we have been unconditionally chosen by God not because of our righteousness but because of God’s righteousness – his grace made perfect in our weakness.

Today’s Gospel reading includes another story I have always loved. Here is a paralysed man whose friends do not give up on him. He is going to meet Jesus not through his own strength but because of the faithfulness and perseverance of his friends. They are the ones who carry him into the presence of Jesus. And I love their ingenuity because helping someone come into the presence of Jesus is never easy. There are a lot of people who get in the way. These friends are blocked by the crowd and must find another route. They manage – I should imaging with much effort, care and strain to carry his bed up onto the roof and then are courageously caring enough, or desperate enough to break the roof open – to overcome the barriers that get in the way of healing and to believe in Jesus enough to go to such lengths. Those who carry the paralysed man are part of the miracle – they are instruments of grace. And for a moment I invite you to reflect on who it has been in your own life – who somehow despite resistance and opposition have carried you into the presence of God’s healing love. God’s forgiveness – the presence of Jesus.

And now I invite you to remember or to reflect on something perhaps even harder. How in your life have you had the tenacity, or the courage, or the attentiveness, or perhaps the time and compassion or empathy, or simply the faith, to help carry another into the place of Jesus’ presence – into the presence of the Love which heals. Notice that that role of carrying does not mean that you yourself have to carry out the miracle – that belongs to God – but each one of us is called to be carriers – to open up the opportunities for God’s grace.

But the miracle here does not end with the breaking open of the roof or with the tenacity of friends.

Imagine this man on his bed being lowered down from the roof. Swinging before a crowded room – a room full of those as we will soon see who are ready to condemn and judge. This paralysed man must feel so exposed. So incredibly fearful of rejection. It’s like your worse nightmare in which there you are – naked as it were and powerless – paralysed with fear before your accusing – longing to hide forever rather than to be so publicly shamed. And Jesus – the one in which you have put your hope at this moment seems to be the one you fear most – for what if he too judges and condemns you. Where else can you go. Perhaps this is our vision of hell.

But look at our narrative – the paralysed man lowered in the midst of his accusers – powerless, suspended – almost as though crucified. And Jesus takes his side. Whatever anyone else in the room thinks, or says, or believes, or accuses him of, Jesus sees the faith of his friends and he calls the paralysed man, ‘Friend…Your sins are forgiven.’ Imagine hearing those words. Because these too are words addressed to us. Friend. Jesus no longer calls us servants he calls us friends. And in the place of our greatest fear and exposure he unbinds us and sets us free. Notice the way the Pharisees judge, just as the world often judges – where the saving love and compassion of God is seen as blasphemy. For them religion is not about healing but about control. But notice too the way that Jesus is not daunted by their accusations. Instead Jesus speaks not just through word but by the transformation and the forgiveness he brings. ‘Stand up and walk.’ This is not an act of magic – this is the empowerment. It is when all that has held us captive is released. It is being unbound and set free. We often think of healing like a restoration –  or like an operation or form of invasive surgery that may or may not work. But what we see here and what Jesus’ healing involves is not restoration but resurrection – new life – a love that is eternal. In restoration we still have to go through the process of loss again but in resurrection we are healed inwardly – because we are set free by an eternal love.

The final simple action in this narrative is also profound. The man who has been lying on a pallet now stands before them – he is no longer someone they can look down upon but stands eye to eye – head to head as it were. He is no longer their victim. No longer his own victim. He is no longer afraid but able to take control of his life. He is equal to them. He picks up his bed and we are told he went home. I believe in the miracle he has discovered that home and what that home is. Before he was homeless and now he makes his home with God. The last words of today’s Gospel reflect that he goes home ‘Glorifying God’. No longer locked in the past but celebrating God’s love now.

I wonder if we too today, after this service, of healing and anointing and laying on of hands may realise that we too can stand up and go home, no longer afraid – but glorifying God.

I wonder if you have ever seen that act of standing up, that act of Christ’s empowerment, when we realise we are no longer defined by our fears or our incapacities or those things that make us feel isolated and alone. But that in Christ’s love we are inwardly healed and whether we stand, or sit or kneel or lie down we are equal and we are loved and we are free.