Grace be unto you and peace, from God our Father and from our Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Let us pray: Dear God, the very giver, preserver, and restorer of life, we pray this day for all who are ill in body or mind, who languish on beds of pain, praying for the dawn to come, seeking relief from their suffering, and an end to their illness. Help us to see all healing as a gift of your grace. Enable us to have patience and perseverance in times of illness, and fill our hearts with compassion for those in need of healing, especially those who feel neglect. And especially make us aware of your ultimate healing, of life eternal in your kingdom. This we ask in the name of Jesus, our crucified and risen Lord. Amen.
My sermon for this morning is based on William H. Willimon’s commentary, published in Pulpit Resources, Logos Productions, Inc., 2000
Sometimes, the most important things that happen to you in life are the intrusions. You are on your way somewhere, with an agenda – a clear, direct purpose in mind – and you get distracted. Something else comes up that demands your attention, and that “something else” turns out to be more important than the journey on which you originally launched.
Our Gospel lesson for this morning is a story about a woman who was an intrusion. The text that I just read, interrupts the text that is printed on your lesson sheets. Pull it out, and look at the text that is printed. One of the leaders of the Synagogue named Jarius, approaches Jesus and begs him repeatedly to come and heal his daughter, who is near death.
Jesus agrees. But while he is on his way to make this important house
call, he passes through a crowd, in which he experiences the intrusion of
the woman in the text that I read. And then, after this intrusion, the story of Jesus going to heal Jarius’ daughter is resumed and finished.
On the way to do something very good for an important person and his daughter, Jesus gets distracted. A woman appears. She intrudes from the margins, where lots of women have been throughout most of history. We don’t know this woman’s name. We know nothing of her family circumstances. All we know is that she is a woman who is ill. For twelve years she has been hemorrhaging.
And that is not only a lot of blood to loose, but a lot of life to be lost as well. She has endured much under the treatment of many physicians. She has exhausted her resources in search of a cure, only to become worse. In addition, at that point in time, a woman with her disease was also considered unclean, a person to be shunned, pushed even further to the margins of life.
Here is a woman who has been poked at, tested, discussed, humiliated, stripped of her dignity, and still she suffers. She has no hope, no hope, it would appear, except for Jesus. And so, she reaches out from the margins of her society to which she has been pushed, in the hope that maybe this time would be different. She said to herself, “IF I can only touch the hem of his garment, I will be well.”
This is one of the strongest images of faith I know of, in all of the New Testament. Here is a hand reaching out from the margins of the crowd to where her illness, her poverty, her pain, and her gender had pushed her – reaching out to touch the power of Jesus, the Lord, the giver of life.
And Mark tells us that “immediately” she was healed. Mark also tells us that “immediately” Jesus felt the power of healing go out from him.
Jesus then asks, “Who touched my clothes?” Now, we can’t tell from the tone of his voice if Jesus is upset with this intrusive woman, or whether he is compassionate toward this hurting person. His disciples certainly don’t appear to give us a clue, or have any concern to identify the woman. “Look at the crowd,” they say, “It could have been anyone.”
But Jesus insists. Jesus wanted to know who the person was, and he began to search for the woman. The intrusion had been made, and he wanted to bring it to conclusion.
Perhaps this is one of the most healing moments in the whole story. This woman, who was an unknown person, identified only by her bleeding and her pain, relegated to the margins of society by her illness, gender and poverty, was being sought out by Jesus, that he might look upon her face, and know her personally.
Again, this woman takes matters into her own hands. She steps out from the anonymity of the crowd, in fear and trembling, and falls down before Jesus to identify herself. It was a decisive move, a move that all of her upbringing and all of her cultural norms would have deemed to be inappropriate.
Yet she stepped out from her location on the margins, where society had relegated her. She stepped out, away from being merely the passive recipient of the limits, which, to this point, had been placed on her life. She stepped out and placed herself at the mercy of the one who had the power to heal her and restore her to life.
This woman’s action took more faith, than anonymously reaching out in the crowd to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe. This action required great risk, for she didn’t know if she would be severely disciplined for violating the societal rules that pushed her to the edge of society. This action required a contrite heart, an apology and a confession, as she told Jesus the whole truth.
And listen to how Jesus responded her. He did not say, “Well, patient,” or “You recipient of the health care delivery system, do you have the proper insurance to cover this treatment, or the resources to pay for services rendered?” as we might hear today. Nor did he say, “do you realize that you have intruded on my time and plans to go and heal the daughter of this important leader of the synagogue?”
No! Jesus tenderly lifts this woman by her hands, and addresses her
intimately, saying, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” It was an intimate designation that honored her has a member of his family, a member of the family of God.
Following this intrusion, Mark goes back to the big story, the story about the daughter of Jarius, the leader of the synagogue. In this story, Jesus will, again, restore life, the life of Jarius’ daughter. But we can’t help being more impressed with the life that is given to this once sad woman, who had no recognition, for whom few people cared.
In reality, this intrusion gives us a glimpse into who Jesus truly is. He is a person who has as much love and regard for the unknown persons of our society, as he does for the renown. He is a person who cares as much for the poor, the ill and dying, the underprivileged and those who live on the margins of society, as he does for the wealthy and leaders of our world.
More than this, this intrusion also tells us something about the nature of the healing that Jesus offers. We live in a society that too often defines healing as some sort of exchange that takes place between the medical profession and the patients. And hopefully, we have enough insurance in the time of serious illness to give the hospitals a lot of money, in exchange for their services of healing.
But this story challenges us to view healing in a different way. If Jesus was only concerned about bringing physical healing to those whom he
encountered, would he have been so concerned about finding this woman whom he knew was healed, by simply touching his clothes? I don’t think so! I think he would have simply gone on his way to Jarius’ house, with no interruption to his agenda.
But the healing that Jesus really has to offer to us is not physical, but a restored relationship with God. And for this reason, he needed to stop and search for the person whose faith touched his life. He needed to embrace her, to know her, and to claim her as a child of God – to let her know that she was forgiven of her sins, and granted a new life beyond the margins of society, which had all but discarded her.
As a result, the Christian faith has always had a deeper understanding of healing, which goes beyond restoration to physical health. The central image of healing for the Christian is not cure, but care, not wellness but wholeness. Wholeness is not simply having a body that is no longer diseased. It means being able to live a meaningful life, in relationship God and with those who care for us. It means being valued for who we are.
Our text for this morning says this loud and clear. Beyond the actual physical healing of this marginalized woman, is the indisputable fact that Jesus cared about her, that he sought her out, that he addressed her as a daughter, a child of God’s kingdom. Not only did her hemorrhage cease, but Jesus also lifted her up as a member of God’s family, gave her a new identity, and assured her of a life that exceeded her wildest expectations.
I believe that we are mature enough to realize that life, here on earth, comes to an end. There will be a time, when each of us will hear those solemn words, “there is nothing else that can be done.” Even the woman in our text, who was healed by her faith, eventually had to face this reality.
Yet she did so knowing that she was a child of God. She did so knowing that her confession was met with forgiveness. She did so knowing that she had been restored to wholeness of life, restored as a person of her community, restored as a person whom God cared about and loved.
In reality, the ultimate healing that Christ has to offer, is not physical healing, but spiritual healing, not relief from disease, but the knowledge that you are loved, not a longer life here on earth, but eternity in his Father’s kingdom.
Amen.
