I sat in the barber’s chair a few weeks ago. I don’t know about you, but I love getting a haircut. The place I get my haircut isn’t an ordinary haircut. It is an experience. Many of us pay top dollar for an experience. For me, it is almost like therapy. The initial neck massage before the shampoo. The shampoo and conditioning massage. Another neck massage. Hair groomed, cut intricately, and cleaned up. Neck given shaving cream and shaved. Hair blown dry and feeling clean and refreshed. You are feeeeeeeeeeeeeling good!

But what is even more amazing is that I tell my barber everything. My life, my job, my joy and my pains. Politics, religion—it is all fair game. Last week I told them my about my uncle with cancer, my buying a new house, and so much more. And then I listen around in other chairs and the same thing is happening. Same sharing. Same soul bearing.

Now, I know this doesn’t happen with you…or does it. Why is this the case? Then I finally realized it. It isn’t necessarily just the person cutting your hair. Not just the soothing music. Not the art or décor in the shop. I finally realized what this phenomenon was all about: It was the touch.

The touch. The barber touches us in a touch-less world. The massages, scissor cuts, and shampoos—they touch us. Touch does something special. It is healing. It draws us closer to someone else. It is a statement that we’re all in this together.

Touch. It is the basic of life’s necessities. And we can’t live without it. We have all heard stories of orphanage kids in third world countries like Romania where children were put into mega-cribs without any human contact. Those without human touch--died quickly. Yet, those taken out and given a loving touch, thrived and grew strong. Babies need touch to live and function. The problem is that we live in a world that is afraid to touch. Teachers can’t hug a child for fears of lawsuits. Touch can be frightening for many of us. It makes us vulnerable and uncomfortable. When we touch-- we risk ourselves. We cross the safe barrier and it is hard to go back to comfort. I often wonder why more people don’t hold hands. In Europe, everyone holds hands. They don’t think twice about it. I know a couple in my home church that has been married over 60 years. Every Sunday growing up my sister and I looked for them and watched them in amazement. For every Sunday they do the unthinkable in church…I know…they hold hands in church…into church….in the pews…during hymns…on the way to the altar for communion…and out the church and into the world. Why were we so amazed? It was like they were outcasts and weird and crazy. Like they had the plague. Touch is frightening to many. There is a gospel story about Jesus touching a leper. Jesus puts himself at great risk. There were little or no cures for diseases. And leprosy was considered the unclean of all unclean. Leviticus 13 and 14 tell us the Jewish thought towards lepers. Lepers were unclean. Lepers were outcasts. Lepers were the untouchables. They lived in the outsides of cities alone. Based on Levitical law they couldn’t go 50 paces near anyone and had to yell “Unclean…Unclean” as they approached people. No doubt they hadn’t been touched in years since they were determined unclean by the priest and society. They might not have been seen or been touched by their wife, kids, and extended family. It was like they were already dead—in their heart and soul.

This reminds me of a youth group member Kari 13 years ago. She came to my church where I was a youth director for many years. Kari was a Junior in high school. She heard about our youth group and came one night. She would pop in briefly and leave. Never stay long. Or come close to anyone. Not even to shake a hand. It was like her emotions were dead. She wouldn’t smile or express any emotion, but for some reason she would come back again and again, like she was dying to jump out of her emotion-less state. A few months later it was around Christmas time. And the church was doing an advent drama. I asked Kari if she would read a part of Old Testament prophecy about the Christ child. She initially said no. But, for some crazy reason, she finally said yes a few minutes later. It came time for the advent drama. And it was Kari’s turn to read the lines. It was her moment. And I expected a mouse-like emotionless reading. No one saw her up in the church balcony as she read those few lines. But I did. I watched an emotion-less child become filled with life. She read those lines like her life depended on it. And maybe it did. It gave her newfound confidence. That advent night she was changed by those prophetic lines of hope. Kari told me her entire story. Through her tears and cries she told me she was abused by an uncle over time. She and her sister both. And how sick she always felt. Like an outcast. Alone. Unclean. Never to be loved. She had depression. A weight problem. And hated much about herself. But that night, as she read the prophesy about this Jesus who would be born as the baby messiah, something was born and brought to light in her. For the first time in her life she knew about the love of Jesus. A love that she remembered “loved unconditionally with no strings attached.” The One who loves and touches the untouchable-- or even un-loveable. Kari came to life that year. Over time she served on the youth group leadership team, served on the church council, became a prominent member, and went to a Lutheran college to study youth ministry after she graduated. Today, 13 years later is accepted to go to seminary. She is continuing to heal as a wounded healer and has been a youth director and camp director for the past 8 years. She continues to touch kids with the love of Jesus—over and over again. Because why? She was touched by Jesus. And brought back to life again.

We all want to be touched by Jesus—as worthless, undeserving, and un-loveable as we may feel. And at times we ask Jesus—like the leper…If you choose – Jesus - you can make me clean. And we hear Jesus say the unthinkable: “I do choose. Be made clean!” Like Kari—the healing waters of Jesus’ grace floods our souls as we are willing to be touched by Jesus. Jesus doesn’t care about the color of skin, or prejudices, or judgments of the world. Jesus came to heal the person. The heart. The soul. One person at a time. He didn’t want to be seen as some mass miracle working freak, but to touch and heal the world-- one person at a time. Today, Jesus comes in flesh to touch our human flesh. He touches the untouchable. Those that are contaminated by sin—considered unclean—seemingly dead--and brings them all back to life. That place that Jesus took it as an outcast—a criminal—was on the cross. Forever.

Who in this world is the outcast—the untouchable? Who is it that needs to be touched by a person? Look around you and your world. Is it the young child still feeling the sting of divorce needing attention? Is it the angry man diagnosed with cancer and needing a hand to hold him? Is it the one that isn’t like us or looks like us or behaves like us-- that dreams of a day they are acknowledged? When we seem alone—lost—untouchable—like the leper—Jesus walks with us. When we are hurting or have pain, or at our wits end, Jesus touches us with hope and healing. And today Jesus touches us all—in the bread—in the wine—in the music—in the prayers—in our hearts—that needs to be refreshed and healed. When we are truly touched by Jesus—we want to share this miracle and touch the world. Like the leper who disobeys Jesus and blabbers his healing experience to everyone. But, maybe that is not a bad thing. Maybe we need to not fear—but to whole heartedly extend ourselves with Christ’s healing touch.

Who is it that you need to touch with the love of Jesus today? Do not fear--But be ready. Who knows—God might even use you in a barber’s chair! To the glory of God! Amen.

Rev. Brian Norsman
Fox Point Lutheran Church
February 16, 2003

Norsman@foxpointchurch.org
www.foxpointchurch.org.

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