We wonder, what good could it possibly do to cast out demons and offer healing if in the end, you wind up a wanted man? Jesus thought it did something, and it’s amazing really that he thought so. In my own experience, the “demons” of our time seem to return upon us even when we think they have been cast out. Sicknesses come back too. The stomach virus has hit our house at least three times already this year! Cancer comes back after remission. What good is it to offer hope that is only temporary? What good is it to walk alongside the addict when you know he’s bound to take another drink or pop another pill?

Our world pays very little attention to the ones who weep with those who weep. Social workers, nurses, addiction counselors, and the people who dedicate their lives to working for soup kitchens and homeless shelters get very little credit for what they do. We tend to like the flashy, easy cures. We want the miracle drug, the pill that will help us sleep better, shake depression, or perform with greater consistency (shall we say.) We reject the longer path of engaging the pain in our lives – even for three days – to see what kind of healing might take place if we honor the truth that our world is no longer perfect.

Jesus spent time among the imperfect people, the mistakes, and the rejects. Remember that Jerusalem was a city bustling with a metropolitan feel, not much room for those who couldn’t pull their own weight. The elite knew how to flaunt their power, their money, and their strength. Jesus threw the important people off. He paid little attention to the Pharisees who held the mega-church purse strings that could make him a star spiritual leader. He sent word by them to insult the King – which I’m sure they were all too glad to do. His popularity was threatening their institutional power. But they weren’t too worried though. Jesus’ popularity was with the unpopular crowd.

We need to develop the kind of eyes that recognize where Jesus would be spending his time today. Too often it’s claimed that Jesus is on the side of the powerful – rewarding those who have the skills to get the upper hand. People imagine Jesus with the pristine crowds of shiny happy Christians who are obedient to the right checklist. We expect him in church. We think he’s living in our neighborhood with our type of people. What if we’re wrong? What if Jesus is telling us, “Take me to the underpass. Show me to the nursing home. Where’s the nearest halfway house? Just give me three days with the hurting ones, and I’ll show you what I can do!”

Jesus will be where we least expect him to be, and he will be soothing those that we have given up hope on. Casting out demons and performing cures is a thankless business. You can never do enough. You cannot meet the endless need, but by spending time with them, in someone’s life you will have made a miracle. Jesus lived, really lived, for this kind of work. Three days with Jesus, and perhaps something would change. Transformation can only happen when we’re broken enough to see that what we’re doing no longer works. Satisfaction with the way we are doesn’t get us much of anywhere.

It reminds me of an old story that says that heaven and hell can be the same place. Hell was once described as a place where people have arms half their usual length with no bend at the elbow. These same people are seated on either side of a long table and given delicious soup with only a three foot spoon to eat with. They remain in agony because they can’t find a way to get the food to their mouths. The story goes that heaven is the very same place, but in heaven people use the spoons to feed the person sitting across from them. When we share sympathy with those who are hurting, it gives us a glimpse of what heaven may be like. Heaven is a place where power and prestige no longer matter. What matters is the person across the table from you.

Though it is more like tough love, Jesus also had a place in his heart for those who were just not getting it that he would spend his time with the outcasts and misfits. He wept not just with those he was helping, but he wept for the whole of Jerusalem – a city that included people in all stages of life and in all kinds of turmoil or distress – including the distress of having to maintain that one has it all together. Jesus wanted to gather up all of these beloved of God’s children as a hen fiercely guards her chicks with her life. Jesus wants to love them all, but the willingness just is not there. Jesus yearns for a time when all people will see their own pain and share in others pain so that we can quit causing such injury and sadness to one another. We know that many won’t ever see it. Even fewer are willing to actually touch it. Only the handfuls that can no longer stand the demons say to Jesus, “Help me! Help me! Help me!”

The Jesus story is for everyone, but not everyone will be able to find themselves enfolded in the arms of God’s grace. We resist that level of intimacy. We are sometimes too proud, sometimes too afraid to be that vulnerable. But the truth is that we all are in deep need of our three days with Jesus to help us mend the broken places. Why? Because it takes three days. An hour isn’t enough. A day makes us wonder if he really means it. A weekend is something anyone can do if they really love us. But three days, three days of really being present, three days of constant love, three days of unconditional forgiveness, three days of “I love you” -- that will do the work of miracles. Three days, and I wonder, I wonder if even the hardest hearts would soften.

Jesus loves the broken places. He loves Jerusalem and Baghdad and Washington D.C.; he loves rotting downtowns and whitewashed suburban boredom; he loves the energy of college towns and the quiet of the rural backwoods. Jesus knows our communities with all their strengths and with all their faults. He imagines the people of all places nestled under his wing together in their diversity. He knew that Jerusalem could be a place of splendor or a place of decay and destruction. He saw both; he loved both. He sees that in us too. He sees how our gifts are miracles and how our gifts have been wasted. He longs for us, for a few days with us to make us whole again.

I know that for many of us rational, no nonsense people, it’s hard to imagine Jesus as a real person. It’s not the same as a face to face conversation with another human being. Jesus can’t sit down across from us at Panera. We can’t look into his eyes for acceptance. We can’t hear his soothing voice. But Jesus promised, he promised to be with us beyond the grave. He promised US that he would be with US when the time comes that people will say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” We are fortunate to live in a time when Jesus is accessible through the power of the Holy Spirit. That Spirit lives in the communities where we are committed to sharing the good news of Jesus Christ, and that good news is this – he’s here for us, for three days or even longer if we desire. He comforts the brokenhearted ones, gives courage to the weak ones, and gives eyes to the blind who thought he was someone else.

It’s hard to describe the passion that Jesus has for seeking and saving the lost. We’ve given Jesus too many other jobs to do in our own churchy lives. He’s this, he’s that, he’s the other. Nope. He’s the one who spends time with whoever needs him at the moment. The other agendas can wait. The Pharisees can wait. The King can wait. The Session agenda can go undone. The act of worship, the study of scripture are both hollow without the compassion Jesus demanded of us. Spend time as Jesus did with the broken ones. Remember that you are one of the broken ones and be comforted by God’s amazing arms of peace.

Amen.