“I Was Sick and You Dropped Me”
The Moral Crisis of Healthcare in America
“I Was Sick and You Dropped Me”
“If the care of a person’s health becomes determined upon anything other than their humanity, society has become lost.” — Stephen Mattson
Jesus’ words in Matthew 25 are haunting in their clarity:
“I was sick and you visited me.”
He doesn’t say, “I was sick and you debated my worth.”
He doesn’t say, “I was sick and you checked my coverage.”
No—He says, “I was sick and you came to me.”
The implication is as bold as it is uncomfortable:
How we treat the sick and vulnerable is how we treat Christ Himself.
And yet, in a world where medical care is often contingent upon wealth, privilege, or paperwork, we must ask ourselves—have we lost our way?
The Day My Insurance Disappeared
When I was diagnosed with cancer, I thought the hardest part would be the treatment—the surgeries, the chemotherapy, the fight for my life.
But before I could even begin that battle, I found myself in another one.
A letter arrived in the mail from my insurance company.
It wasn’t a bill. It wasn’t even a denial.
It was a termination.
Apparently, once they began receiving medical bills for cancer treatment, the insurance company went back through my paperwork to look for a loophole.
And they found one. A tiny one.
They claimed I had failed to disclose that I had high cholesterol. The kicker?
I didn’t even know I had high cholesterol. My levels were five points above normal, and my doctor had never even mentioned it. But to the insurance company, this was reason enough.
They rescinded my coverage.
Just like that, I had cancer, no insurance, and a mountain of medical bills.
We hired a lawyer.
We fought.
We lost.
Left to Fight Alone
Suddenly, I was facing six months of chemotherapy with no way to pay for it.
It felt like I had been abandoned—not just by a system, but by a society that deems some lives too expensive to heal.
My church community stepped in. They raised money. Most of the doctors forgave my medical debt. My oncologist fought to get me my first treatment for free. Eventually, I found insurance that accepted pre-existing conditions.
We made it.
But barely.
One surgeon refused to forgive his fee. For ten years, we paid off a $20,000 bill. And while I was grateful it wasn’t the full $200,000 hospital cost, the weight of it stayed with me.
We made it—but not everyone does.
Healthcare Is Not a Luxury
Not everyone has a church family to raise money.
Not every doctor is willing to forgive debt.
Not every person gets a second chance.
For many, a cancer diagnosis—or any serious illness—isn’t just a health crisis. It’s a financial death sentence.
They lose their homes. They declare bankruptcy.
Or worse—they forgo treatment altogether.
This is not mercy.
This is not justice.
This is not the way of Jesus.
A Gospel of Restoration, Not Exploitation
Jesus healed without hesitation. He didn’t ask for a co-pay. He didn’t require a credit check. He didn’t turn away the bleeding woman until her paperwork was processed.
He simply healed.
Because that’s what love does—it sees suffering and acts.
The Good Samaritan didn’t ask if the wounded man was in-network.
He didn’t verify if he could afford the inn.
He stopped. He bandaged. He paid.
That is what it means to love our neighbor.
And yet today, people are left bleeding on the roadside, not because of robbers, but because of red tape.
What Can We Do?
We don’t need to wait for Washington to fix it.
As people of faith, we can choose to be healers in our neighborhoods, our churches, and our systems.
Here’s where we can begin:
🏥 Support medical debt relief programs. Groups like RIP Medical Debt buy and forgive debt—literally freeing captives.
📣 Advocate for fair healthcare policies. Healthcare justice is not partisan—it is pastoral. It’s Gospel work.
🕊️ Encourage churches to become centers of healing—through free clinics, counseling, and compassion funds.
❤️ Reclaim a theology of healing. In God’s Kingdom, healing is not transactional. It is an act of love.
We Are All the Wounded
At some point, we will all be sick. We will all be vulnerable. And in that moment, we won’t want to be judged by our insurance status—we’ll want to be seen, loved, and healed.
If we would want that for ourselves, we must fight for it for others.
Because when healthcare is determined by anything other than a person’s humanity,
we are not just losing a system—we are losing our soul.
So let us not settle.
Let us not get comfortable with a system that drops people when they need care the most.
Let us not hide behind policies and premiums.
Let us be the Samaritan.
Let us follow the Healer.
Let us create a world where no one has to fight to be healed.
Because Jesus is still bleeding by the roadside, still whispering:
“I was sick… and you came to me.”
