As Many As Touched Him

Sunday's message is entitled, As many as touched Him, were made whole! The Scripture text is found in Mark 6. There’s a story by a man who works with the down and out in Chicago. A prostitute came to him in wretched straits, homeless, her health failing, unable to buy food for her 2 year old daughter. Her eyes awash with tears, she confessed that she had been renting out her daughter – 2 years old! – to men.. to support her drug habit. The man could barely bear hearing the sordid details of her story. He sat in silence not knowing what to say. At last he asked if she had ever thought of going to a church for help. “I will never forget the look of pure astonishment that crossed her face,” he said. “Church!” she cried. “Why would I ever go there? They’d just make me feel worse then I already do.”

Somehow we have created a sanctimonious community of respectability in the church. The down-and –out who flocked to Jesus when he lived on earth, no longer feel welcome. How did Jesus, the only perfect person in history, manage to attract the notoriously imperfect? It was because those who touched Him, were made whole.

Christ’s passion for the hurting is needed TODAY not later!

The Touch of the Master’s Hand’

Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer

Thought it scarcely worth his while

To waste much time on the old violin,

But he held it up with a smile,

"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried

"Who’ll start the bidding for me?"

"A dollar, a dollar"; then,

"Two! Only two?

Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?

Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;

Going for three --"

But no, From the room, far back,

a gray haired man

Came forward and picked up the bow;

Then, wiping the dust from the old violin

And tightening the loose strings,

He played a melody pure and sweet

As sweet as a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,

With a voice that was quiet and low, Said:

What am I bidden for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow.

"A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?

Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?

Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice,

And going, and gone," said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,

"We do not quite understand

What changed its worth?"

Swift came the reply:

"The touch of a Master’s hand,"

And many a man with life out of tune

And battered and scarred with sin,

Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,

Much like the old violin

A "mess of pottage,"

a glass of wine

A game - and he travels on.

He’s "going" once, and "going" twice

He’s "going" and almost "gone,"

But the Master comes,

and the foolish crowd

Never can quite understand

The worth of a soul

and the change that’s wrought

By the “touch of the Master’s hand.”