Herman Wise Had Freckles
Mark 1:40-45
A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, ‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’ Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’ Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. After sternly warning him he sent him away at once, saying to him, ‘See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.’ But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.
Herman Wise had more freckles than anyone had ever seen and he had red hair and in the summer, Herman was just one large freckle. I didn’t care. Herman was my friend and from the second through the sixth grade, every chance we had, Herman Wise and I threw a baseball back and forth to one another until our hands were sore.
There is something special about those friendships we make in our early years. They’re different from the relationship that we call friendship later in life. Kids talk to each other. Kids share what they think and with they feel with their hearts. Those friendships are forged in fire of honest naivety. I believe with all my heart that we learn how to treat one another based upon how we treated others and were treated by our childhood friends.
Valentine’s day will soon be upon us. Hallmark has done all in its power to try to elevate this holiday to Christmas and Mother’s Day as far as cards are concerned. There are some here today who were proposed to on Valentine’s Day. I had a gentleman in a previous congregation who sheepishly told me he love Valentine’s Day because he remember that in was on that day, he kissed a girl for the first time – even better he shared, she kissed him back.
I wish I shared that gentleman’s enthusiasm for the holiday. I wish I could find a way to get excited about hearts and flowers, and cupid but I have difficulty getting past Herman Wise and his freckles.
I think that many of you can share the memory of what Valentine Parties were like when you were in elementary school. I think most of us have decorated boxes for our friends and loved ones to put Valentine Cards in. Most of us remember that we could get 15, 20, 25, cards that all essentially said, Be My Valentine. Hopefully, I’m not the only one who remembers the little heart candy that came in various colors and in varied ways, said, “I love you.”
I remember, that in the third grade, we had our Valentine Party in Mrs. Scott’s room. Early in the morning, we would slip our cards into boxes that had the recipient’s name on it. And late in the day, we would gather our box, eat cup cakes with red, pink or white icing, drink some kind of punch, and open our box and read the cards that our class mates had sent us.
We all knew that most of the cards would be just like the cards we had sent but we always hoped that there might be one special one -- one that was not just different but from someone who held a different place in our heart. At the end of the day, we gathered up our book satchels and our Valentine boxes and started home.
Herman and I walked together and he was unusually quiet. I was as oblivious and chatted on and on about the party and the cake until I noticed that Herman was crying.
“Hey! What’s the deal? Why are you crying?”
“Just shut up!,” he yelled back at me.
At eight-years-old I had zero pastoral skills. I didn’t know what to say but eventually, Herman I sat on the curb by the Courthouse and he showed me the cards he had gotten. Several of the little girls in our class had managed to make up their own cards for Herman. The made fun of his hair, his freckles, his looks in general and one made certain to draw a blue heart telling him he had used up all the red.
At 8 or 9 years old, these young ladies had already no room in the heart for someone who was different. Already they saw the world as Madison Avenue want the world seen and everyone else finds a No Vacancy sign on their heart.
I emptied my cards in the drain there on the corner and I took Herman’s and tossed his as well. We never spoke of it again.
Our scripture this morning is about a man who was desperate for love. Certainly, the text says that he is a leper and that tells you of the lack of love in his life. Lepers, were shut out from society. They could only live of other lepers, they had to wear bells on their clothing to warn others of their very presence. They could not work, eat with others nor could the worship at the Temple.
It’s hard for us to imagine what it was like for lepers. It’s seems unfathomable for people to treat other the way the healthy treated the lepers in Biblical times. The reason it’s hard is because we simple ignore the lepers today.
It was in the early eighties and we finally had a name for the disease. What had been a type of cancer was now AIDS. Initially, most of those who had the disease were gay men and as the disease progressed, doctors and nurses, technicians and other hospital personal would refuse to treat them. Special hospices were opened to care for these men and most died there alone, rejected by society and rejected by their families. I works with those early cases and it was my job to start the central lines and provide the IV fluids and nutrients. These were not people praying for a cure for they knew that one was not available. They were praying that someone would sit and talk, hold their hand and say “I love you.” Instead they saw only rejection and reticule and listened as one of the most prominent preachers in America told us good Christians that this was God’s punishment for the life style they lived.
The story this morning is but one of many healing miracle stories in the Bible. Jesus was approached in different ways, by people, in different circumstances, but they all had two things in common: first, they needed someone to love them, and second, Jesus demonstrated his love in the healing process.
They leper say to him, “If you chose.” Jesus said I chose. I chose you. I chose to offer you the best that I have. I chose to make you whole and in your whole enable you to love and for others to love you.
Jesus reached out his hand and touch the leper. He didn’t have to but Jesus understood that the man had not been touched in long time. Jesus understood that the man asked to be made clean but what the man hungered for more than anything was for someone to love him and he knew that as long as he was a leper, love’s day could not dawn.
What is the question that we must address out of the “Cleansing of the Leper”? How is this relevant for us just six days before Valentine? Each of us will have to answer for ourselves but for me, I understand how easy it is to love my wife and my son. I know how easy it is to express my love you as my friends and neighbors. I understand how easy it is to drive to the Hallmark story and find a beautiful card that will express my love to any number of people in any number of ways. But I also understand how difficult it is for me to drive to the Galveston County Jail to visit a stranger. I know how hard it is to tell a stranger who looks different from me and from those I know and say, “I love you.” I know how hard it is to love those who have intentionally tried to hurt me or hurt those I love. But I also know this, that if I am to be faithful as I carry his name, if I am worthy to be called a Christian, then friends, I simply must chose to reach out and touch others with the words, “I love you.” I must make room in my heart for one more.
And one last thing that might be important for me this week is to go back to doing what I used to do – not give a card. You see for many years, I wouldn’t participate in Valentine’s Day. I’m sure I was a lousy boy-friend in High School. It wasn’t until after I married Nancy that I bought another Valentine’s Day Care. And maybe that’s what I need to remember to do this year. Tell my wife I love her enough to share with others. Maybe this year I can be man enough, no make that Christian enough to make room in my heart for someone who needs a warm plate of food, a hot cup of coffee, or a new pair of shoes. Maybe, just maybe, if I can make room for just one more, I can work up the courage to chose to say, I love you to a complete stranger.
Some time during the summer between the sixth and seventh grade, Herman Wise moved and I’ve never heard from him again. But I’ve never forgotten the lesson I learn so long ago and I’ve never forgotten Herman.
