And it came to pass as he was in one of the cities, that behold, there was a man full of leprosy, and seeing Jesus, falling upon his face, he besought him saying, Lord, if thou wilt, thou art able to cleanse me.
In one of the cities, a man with a disease that shut him out of normal life meets Jesus. He has no doubt about what Jesus can do. His whole plea hangs on whether Jesus wants to.
Luke never says which city this was. One writer sees a reason for that silence:
The name of the city is not mentioned, because leprosy is a picture of the corruption of sin, and that sin is in every city.
Luke adds a word the earlier Gospels leave out. He measures how far the disease had gone:
Nowhere could He show His power better than in cleansing the leper. And here was a man in that terrible state of isolation — "a man full of leprosy." This is Luke's description, going beyond the earlier Gospels. The disease was not in its early stages. It was showing itself in all its dreadful reality.
Leprosy did more than make a person ill. It shut a man out of the place where God lived among His people:
In Israel the rules for cleansing a leper give us a moving picture of how God cleanses a sinner and brings him back into His own presence to worship and serve Him. Leprosy was a remarkable picture of sin. It made a man completely unfit for the presence of God. His place was "outside the camp." Whether he had few spots or many, the verdict was "utterly unclean." So all he could truly say of himself was, "Unclean, unclean." The disease was deeply defiling. God alone could make a leper clean, and fit to come into the camp.
He calls Jesus "Lord" and falls on his face. Yet his plea starts with an "if":
Even the leper, who did pay Him homage then, only faintly grasped the grace that was in Him: "Lord, if You will." Why question? Why doubt? Why had He come, and come Himself, the Holy One, to live among a people of unclean lips? A man, yet the King, the Lord of Hosts! ... The leper, wretched as he was, acknowledged His power without hesitation.
Another writer asks where that doubt came from, and names who put it there:
The malice of Satan and the cruelty of man had sown in that poor heart distrust of the heart of Christ. That is what you find here. "Ah," he says, in effect, "I do not question Your power; I have seen that, I have witnessed Your great works" ... "but," he says, "I doubt the will, I doubt the love, I doubt the interest. I know You can do it. But I question whether You have enough readiness of heart and willingness of mind ... to give me, in my misery, the mercy I know You have."
Leprosy was an evil only God could remove. So the reply the man got told him who Jesus is:
Verse 12. Christ was the display on earth of God's power and character — of grace. The leper's case that follows is a striking witness to this, for leprosy was an evil that none but God could remove. But God was there in grace. Leprosy presented sin in the aspect of uncleanness. A man full of it saw Jesus, fell on his face and begged Him: "Lord, if You will, You can make me clean." He recognizes divine power in Jesus, but he has not full confidence in His grace. He seems worn down by misery. Almost in despair he says, "If You will." But He who alone on earth had the right to say it answers, "I will." That was God only — not in heaven, but come down as man and among men.
- Full. Luke alone calls the man full of leprosy — not an early case, but the disease at its worst. Nowhere could Christ show His power better.
- Outside. Leprosy shut a man out of the camp and out of God's presence, leaving him nothing to say of himself but "Unclean."
- Only God. Leprosy was an evil none but God could remove. That is why this case shows who Jesus is.
- The doubt. The leper never questioned the power; he questioned the willingness. Distrust of Christ's heart, not of His hand, was his real disease.
- The will. He came saying "if You will" and met the only Man on earth entitled to answer "I will" — God come down among men, in grace.
And stretching forth his hand he touched him, saying, I will; be thou cleansed and immediately the leprosy departed from him.
A man full of leprosy fell at Jesus' feet with one doubt — not about His power, but about His willingness. Jesus answered by touching a man no one else would touch, and with words that settled the question forever.
Luke records that the man was "full of leprosy." That condition shaped how he came to Jesus.
He was so full of leprosy that he felt too repulsive to count on the kindness of Jesus. He was sure of His power but not so sure of His grace. So he came with the words, "If You will…" — which showed him wholly full of leprosy and partly full of doubt. The grace of the Lord instantly rose to its full height. All power was in His word. Yet He stretched out His hand and touched him, as if to wipe the last lingering doubt out of his mind forever and set him completely at ease.
A word alone would have healed him. The hand served another purpose.
"He stretched out His hand and touched him, saying, I will; be clean." This was by no means necessary for healing. But love does not stop at meeting man's needs. It uses them to show the great grace of God. Under law such a touch would have made Him unclean. But we will never understand the Gospel unless we see this: as man He chose to come under the law, yet He stood above it.
The word Luke uses means more than a light brush of the fingers. It carries the sense of taking hold.
haptomai (from hapto, "to connect") means "to touch freely, handle." This was the touch the Lord gave to the leper, and it did not defile Him (Luke 5:13). This was also the grasp of faith of the woman who touched the edge of His garment, and she was healed (Luke 8:44-47).
Under the law of Israel, uncleanness spread by touch. With Him it moved the other way.
If a man touched a leper he was unclean and put out of the camp. But He cannot be defiled. … Holiness undefiled and undefilable carries to sinners the love they need.
This cleansing did what the law of Moses never did.
Here we see that grace brings cleansing — a cleansing the law did not bring, though the law made provision for the priests to recognise any cleansing that the power of God brought about at any time. Here was the power of God at work in the fullness of grace, and it was a lovely sight indeed!
The leper had said "if You will." Jesus takes up his own word and turns it into a declaration.
He added words, recorded in all three Gospels, of the utmost weight — "I will; be clean." No one on earth but He was free to speak so. His Person gave Him the right. He who could truly say "I am" had the right to say "I will." In anyone else born of a woman, those words would be not only presumption but sin. He who says in John 8, "Before Abraham was, I am," could speak them.
The cure had no stages. That is the point of the word Luke chooses.
"Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean." Man is far advanced in medicine now, but he cannot do this. He cannot bring about a result like this at once. There are stages of cure and progress, just as there are stages of disease. Here the whole order of things changed in a moment — that is the mighty power of God.
This man's condition speaks to anyone who feels too far gone to ask.
No man full of sin or full of leprosy ever had to wait longer to be cleansed. The Priest, our Saviour, is just waiting for such men.
- Doubt. The man was sure of the power and unsure of the willingness — full of leprosy and partly full of doubt.
- Touch. The hand was not needed for the cure. Love went past the need to display the grace of God.
- Undefiled. Anyone else who touched a leper became unclean. Here holiness that nothing can defile brings the sinner the love he needs.
- "I will." Only the One who could say "I am" had the right to say "I will." In anyone else those words would be presumption and sin.
- Immediately. No stages, no gradual cure — the whole order of things changed at once. The man full of the disease did not have to wait.
And he enjoined him to tell no one; but go, shew thyself to the priest, and offer for thy cleansing as Moses ordained, for a testimony to them.
Jesus heals a leper, then gives him two orders that seem to pull apart: tell no one, but go and show yourself to the priest. Why silence a man with news like that? And what was the priest meant to think when a healed leper stood in front of him?
The Lord had just done something no one could miss. Even so, He asked for no publicity, and sent the man to the priest instead.
The Lord charged the man to tell no one (v.14), for He does not want advertising. But as the law instructed, the former leper was to show himself to the priest and offer a suitable sacrifice for his ceremonial cleansing. This would be an unquestionable testimony, which priests could not honorably ignore.
Commentators have long asked why the Lord ordered silence. One answer points to urgency: the errand to the priest had to happen at once.
People have guessed at many reasons for the silence Jesus laid on the man: "See that you say nothing to anyone." But the story shows that the Lord made the leper's errand to the priests look like one that had to be carried out at once. After the healing Jesus sent him off straight away. He charged him strictly to say nothing to anyone, but to show himself to the priest. The priest would then have undeniable evidence in front of him that this cure was real.
The choice of the priest was not random. He was the official examiner, and he already knew this man's case.
The Lord would make the healing known, but according to law. The priest's business was to inspect. The priest would have known the reality of the leper's case, and would be the best judge among men of the reality of the cleansing.
The law of Moses could certify a cure. It could not produce one. So a healed man coming for inspection proved that Someone had already done what the law never promised.
The law made no provision for healing leprosy. It did make provision, once a man was healed, for his purification, his cleansing. Only God could heal. So when the healed leper came and showed himself to the priest with his offering, it was proof that God was there in power and grace. When had such a thing been known in Israel? ... God was now present among His people. This would force the priest to the conviction that God was there in Christ, above law, yet not overthrowing the law's authority. ... If that testimony were received, they would themselves (and in time openly) enter the ground of grace.
The phrase "for a proof to them" points beyond the healed man. (Older translations read "for a testimony to them," and the writers quote that wording.) The visit was meant to raise a question in the priest's mind. Only one honest answer fits it.
The man showing himself to the priest should have raised the question there, if the priest kept true knowledge, or if his heart looked for it: Who has healed him? Faith would have drawn out the answer: Jehovah is here; Jehovah has healed him. For no one knew better than the priest that man is powerless here. The law makes no provision for healing leprosy. It only gives directions for the ceremonial cleansing of someone already healed.
The gift the man carried was not payment for his healing. It was the sign the law required once healing had happened. The sight of it at the altar carried its own message.
A striking testimony indeed. As far as Scripture tells us, this was the first Israelite leper cleansed since Leviticus 13 and 14 gave their instructions nearly 1,500 years earlier. A cleansed leper standing at the altar with his two birds in his hands showed that God had come into the land. He was meeting men's need completely apart from priestly service and religious ceremonies. ... Cleansing for the soul comes not from anything a person does, but from the fountain of the Saviour's blood.
Crowds gathered anyway. What He did with that opportunity is part of the lesson.
This may look to us like a great opportunity for preaching. How many preachers would be excited by such a prospect! But He withdrew into the wilderness and prayed. What a valuable lesson for us, if we tend to think much of "numbers"! The excitement stirred up around Him did not sway Him. The presence of God is much more important than crowds of people.
- Silence — The Lord wanted no advertising. The man's errand was urgent.
- Sent — The priest was the appointed inspector. No one was better placed to judge whether the cleansing was real.
- Shown — The law could certify a cure but never produce one; only God could heal a leper.
- Signal — The offering at the altar was proof that God had come into the land and was meeting need Himself.
- Solitude — Crowds came anyway. He withdrew to pray. God's presence mattered more to Him than numbers.
But the report concerning him was spread abroad still more, and great crowds came together to hear, and to be healed from their infirmities.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And *he* withdrew himself, and was about in the desert [places] and praying.
Crowds were pressing in to hear Jesus and to be healed. His fame was spreading. At that very moment He slipped away alone. Luke records the retreat as carefully as he records the miracles. Why was a man walking away from a crowd worth telling?
The verb does not describe a single afternoon. The form of the word points to a settled habit:
"Withdrew." Wesley's note draws attention to the verb tense here: "He did so often."
The verse sits between two miracles. That placement matters:
But instead of giving in to the applause of the crowd, the Lord withdrew and spent the time in the desert praying. Nothing could be more beautiful than this retreat for prayer between the two miracles. He was truly God. Yet He was also man — not only in upholding the authority of the law, but in living out dependence on God.
And what looks admirable in Him exposes something in us:
And what next? Jesus withdrew into the wilderness and prayed. However great the power He used, and however plainly divine, He is the dependent man. This is just where we fail.
The growing crowd looked like an opportunity. He did not treat it as one:
We might think this was a great chance for preaching. How many preachers would be excited by such a prospect! But He withdrew into the wilderness and prayed. How profitable a lesson for us if we tend to think much of "numbers"! The excitement stirred up around Him did not sway Him. The presence of God matters far more than crowds of people. God guided Him, not the apparent interest of the people. He knew that interest could just as easily turn into hateful rejection. It was the crowd who later cried out for His crucifixion.
The same withdrawal shows a fixed aim:
Oh, for this Spirit of holy purpose in every measure! Man would say He ought to come forward. But He kept close to His work with perfect purpose. He was intent on the needs of men, yet, as to the purpose of His own soul, He remained indifferent to their interest in Him. This separation in purpose stands out all through our Lord's life, and so does its calmness.
Luke notes the Lord at prayer where the other Gospel writers do not. The reason lies in what prayer shows about the one praying:
As on other occasions, only Luke notes the Lord in prayer. This still shows us that the Lord is set before us as a Man, rather than as a Jew or as the Son of God. A Jew, seen as under the law, was not really called to pray, because the law threw him back on his own strength. But prayer is the expression of dependence. So it is the first duty of a creature like man, who should learn to wait on God as his all-sufficiency and strength.
That dependence is not a side detail of His humanity. It is the heart of it:
Luke presents man in his perfection — the dependent man; for dependence is the essence of a perfect man. We do see God shining all through. Yet in Jesus we see the dependent man, in the place and condition of perfection as man. The root of sin in us is self-will, independence.
Two things belong together in ordinary Christian life, and the Lord's own days show it:
In my last letter I pointed you to the importance of the Word of God. Now I want to speak of prayer and its link with the spiritual life. These two — the Word of God and prayer — always go together. It was so in the blessed activity of our Lord's life. After a long day of ministry we find a record like this: He withdrew into the wilderness and prayed.
- Habit. The wording points to something repeated, not a single retreat. He withdrew often.
- Dependence. The greater the power He showed, the more He took the place of the dependent man. Darby notes this is just where we fail.
- Direction. God guided Him, not the size or excitement of the crowd. The presence of God matters more than numbers.
- Purpose. The withdrawal shows a settled aim: intent on people's needs, unmoved by their interest in Him.
- Perfection. Self-will is the root of sin in us; dependence is the essence of the perfect Man, and prayer is its plain expression.