Jesus Crossed the Line
Jesus crossed the line of social separation. He went into Gentile territory (Mk. 7:24), listened to the plea of a Gentile mother (Mk. 7:25-28), and cast a demon out of her daughter (Mk. 7:29-30). He healed social outcasts, such as the deaf (Mk. 7:31-37). He fed the hungry (Mk. 8:1-9). Jesus crossed the line of social separation to minister to the needs of people.
Jesus loves everybody. He loves the demon-possessed, the deaf, the dumb, and the hungry. The Lord loves people with a drinking problem, unwed mothers, couples living together outside of wedlock, people who are divorced, convicts, and women who have had abortions.
Jesus meets the needs of all. He is the Savior for all humankind. As someone has said, Jesus is a heart-fixer, mind-regulator, and burden-bearer for all who come to Him. He is the mercy-dispenser in our mess. There is a song that says, “He looked beyond my fault and saw my need.”
Some people feel unloved, unworthy, and unwanted. Jesus loves the unwanted. Some people feel they are not on the “A list,” not in the “in crowd,” not invited to the party. Jesus loves the unwanted. He is going to throw a big party and all are invited. If you have ever been kicked out, locked out, or knocked out, you need to know that Jesus loves the unwanted.
Jesus’ love is like a mother’s love. Erma Bombeck wrote, “Every mother has a favorite child. She cannot help it. She is only human. I have mine—the child for whom I feel a special closeness, with whom I share a love that no one else could possibly understand. My favorite child is the one who was too sick to eat ice cream at his birthday party—who had measles at Christmas—who wore leg braces to bed because he toed in—who had a fever in the middle of the night, the asthma attack, the child in my arms at the emergency ward.
“My favorite child spent Christmas alone away from the family, was stranded after the game with a gas tank on E, lost the money for his class ring. My favorite child is the one who messed up the piano recital, misspelled committee in a spelling bee, ran the wrong way with the football, and had his bike stolen because he was careless. My favorite child is the one I punished for lying, grounded for insensitivity to other people’s feelings, and informed he was a royal pain to the entire family.
“My favorite child slammed doors in frustration, cried when she didn’t think I saw her, withdrew and said she could not talk to me. My favorite child always needed a haircut, had hair that wouldn’t curl, had no date for Saturday night, and a car that cost $600 to fix. My favorite child was selfish, immature, bad-tempered and self-centered. He was vulnerable, lonely, unsure of what he was doing in this world—and quite wonderful. All mothers have their favorite child. It is always the same one: the one who needs you at the moment. Who needs you for whatever reason—to cling to, to shout at, to hurt, to hug, to flatter, to reverse charges to, to unload on—but mostly just to be there.”
Be like Jesus. Cross the line. Reach out to people who need a kind, loving touch.
© G. Michael Cocoris 6/21/2012.
Jesus loves everybody. He loves the demon-possessed, the deaf, the dumb, and the hungry. The Lord loves people with a drinking problem, unwed mothers, couples living together outside of wedlock, people who are divorced, convicts, and women who have had abortions.
Jesus meets the needs of all. He is the Savior for all humankind. As someone has said, Jesus is a heart-fixer, mind-regulator, and burden-bearer for all who come to Him. He is the mercy-dispenser in our mess. There is a song that says, “He looked beyond my fault and saw my need.”
Some people feel unloved, unworthy, and unwanted. Jesus loves the unwanted. Some people feel they are not on the “A list,” not in the “in crowd,” not invited to the party. Jesus loves the unwanted. He is going to throw a big party and all are invited. If you have ever been kicked out, locked out, or knocked out, you need to know that Jesus loves the unwanted.
Jesus’ love is like a mother’s love. Erma Bombeck wrote, “Every mother has a favorite child. She cannot help it. She is only human. I have mine—the child for whom I feel a special closeness, with whom I share a love that no one else could possibly understand. My favorite child is the one who was too sick to eat ice cream at his birthday party—who had measles at Christmas—who wore leg braces to bed because he toed in—who had a fever in the middle of the night, the asthma attack, the child in my arms at the emergency ward.
“My favorite child spent Christmas alone away from the family, was stranded after the game with a gas tank on E, lost the money for his class ring. My favorite child is the one who messed up the piano recital, misspelled committee in a spelling bee, ran the wrong way with the football, and had his bike stolen because he was careless. My favorite child is the one I punished for lying, grounded for insensitivity to other people’s feelings, and informed he was a royal pain to the entire family.
“My favorite child slammed doors in frustration, cried when she didn’t think I saw her, withdrew and said she could not talk to me. My favorite child always needed a haircut, had hair that wouldn’t curl, had no date for Saturday night, and a car that cost $600 to fix. My favorite child was selfish, immature, bad-tempered and self-centered. He was vulnerable, lonely, unsure of what he was doing in this world—and quite wonderful. All mothers have their favorite child. It is always the same one: the one who needs you at the moment. Who needs you for whatever reason—to cling to, to shout at, to hurt, to hug, to flatter, to reverse charges to, to unload on—but mostly just to be there.”
Be like Jesus. Cross the line. Reach out to people who need a kind, loving touch.
© G. Michael Cocoris 6/21/2012.
