Over Christmas break, I found myself wide awake in the middle of the night, listening to the unfortunate chorus of two family members simultaneously vomiting in separate bathrooms. The norovirus had officially invaded our home, despite my futile hopes that we might escape unscathed. The smell, as you can imagine, was less than ideal.
It’s funny how fear of contamination kicks in so quickly, isn’t it? We instinctively recoil when we think something—or someone—might make us sick. But what happens when that fear isn’t about germs, but about people? What happens when we pull back from others because of stigma, judgment, or discomfort?
A Man Who Risked Everything
There’s an ancient story about a man with leprosy—a brutal, disfiguring disease that didn’t just affect the body but the soul. Leprosy wasn’t just a health issue; it was a social death sentence. People with leprosy were forced to live in isolation, shouting “Unclean!” to warn others to stay away. It’s hard to imagine what that kind of loneliness must have felt like.
But one man decided he’d had enough. He approached Jesus—a well-known teacher and healer at the time—and took a risk. Kneeling before Him, he said, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.”
Let’s pause there. Think about what it took for this man to approach someone in public. The stares, the whispers, the disgusted faces. The overwhelming rejection. Most people wouldn’t have even looked at him.
Modern-Day “Untouchables”
We may not have leprosy today, but let’s be honest: we have our version of untouchables. People we avoid, whether consciously or unconsciously. Maybe it’s the person experiencing homelessness holding a sign on the corner. Maybe it’s the colleague everyone whispers about or the neighbor who seems “too much.”
It’s easy to keep our distance, isn’t it? We’re busy. We’re overwhelmed. Or maybe we just don’t know what to say. But here’s the thing: distance doesn’t solve anything. It just reinforces the divide.
“Disdain and disgust fester in distance, but healing comes through proximity.”
A Different Kind of Response
When the man with leprosy approached Jesus, the expected reaction would have been disgust. Most people would’ve stepped back, covered their faces, and shouted for him to stay away. But Jesus? He did something radically different.
He reached out and touched him.
Let that sink in for a moment. Before saying a word, Jesus closed the gap. He touched the untouchable. And then He said, “I am willing. Be clean.”
In that moment, He didn’t just heal the man’s disease; He restored his humanity. The touch wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, social, and spiritual. It said, “You matter. You belong.”
Why Proximity Matters
Here’s something fascinating: studies show that our brains often react to certain people with immediate judgment or disgust before we even consciously process it. When we see someone who’s homeless or struggling, our instinct might be to look away. It’s not always intentional—it’s just human nature.
But the good news? That reaction isn’t the final word. Science also shows that the more we engage with people, the more those gut reactions change. The more we get to know someone, the more we see their humanity. Compassion grows through connection.
The Power of Small Steps
You don’t have to be a healer or a hero to make a difference. Sometimes, it’s as simple as choosing proximity. Smiling at someone instead of looking away. Starting a conversation instead of walking past. Offering a small act of kindness—a coffee, a meal, or just a listening ear.
“To touch the untouchable is to reclaim the broken.”
In our community, we’ve started taking small steps to bridge these gaps. For example, we have a mobile shower trailer for those without access to basic hygiene. At first glance, it might seem like a small thing. But to the people using it, it’s about dignity. It’s about being seen as a person, not a problem.
Imagine a Different Kind of World
What if we became known as people who close the gap? People who choose connection over avoidance? Imagine a world where no one feels untouchable, where love crosses every barrier.
It starts with us. With small choices, small steps, small acts of courage. By saying, “I am willing.”
“We’re learning to see the image of God in each other by drawing close.”
Mother Teresa famously said that when she cared for the sick and dying, she saw Jesus in every person she helped. At first, she admitted, it wasn’t easy. She felt disgusted. But over time, that faded, replaced by love.
When we choose proximity, we don’t just help others. We transform ourselves. We start to see the world—and the people in it—through a different lens.
Your Move
Here’s the invitation: Take a step toward someone you’d normally avoid. Smile. Say hello. Ask a question. If you’re looking for ways to get involved, connect with our team. We’re building opportunities for people to serve and make a difference in real, tangible ways.
You don’t have to fix everything. Just start where you are. Because healing—for others and us—comes through proximity.
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Join the Conversation
This blog is part of a larger journey. Over the next seven weeks, I’ll be exploring how shame, judgment, and division affect our lives—and how we can find belonging and restoration. I’d love for you to join the conversation.
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