Once he was approached by a leper, who knelt before him begging his help. “If only you will,” said the man, “you can cleanse me.” In warm indignation Jesus stretched out his hand, [and] touched him.
Mark 1:40–41, NEB
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I was in an emergency room late one night last week.
Victims of Satan filled the halls. A child—puffy, swollen eyes. Beaten by her father. A woman—bruised cheeks, bloody nose. “My boyfriend got drunk and hit me,” she said, weeping. An old man—
unconscious and drunk on a stretcher. He drooled blood in his sleep.
Jesus saw the victims of Satan, too.
He saw a leper one day … fingers gnarled … skin ulcerated … face disfigured.
And he got indignant … angry.
Not a selfish, violent anger. A holy anger …
a controlled frustration …
a compassionate disgust. And it moved him. It moved him to action.
I’m convinced that the same Satan stalks today,
causing the hunger in Somalia …
the confusion in the Mideast …
the egotism on the movie screen … the apathy in Christ’s church.
And Satan giggles among the dying.
May we never grow so “holy,” may we never be so “mature,” may we never become so “religious” that we can see the footprints of Satan and stay calm.