Reach Out For Healing
Wherever Jesus went, a new community formed around him. All sorts of people were drawn to him-to his message of God's healing love and forgiveness. He received them all with open arms, and in the process, broke down barriers between people-rich and poor, male and female, young and old, Gentile and Jew. God's reign was manifested in the motley crowd that gathered around him, receiving healing and the good news of God's love.
In today's Gospel, two very different people, from opposite ends of the social scale, come to Jesus for healing.. Jairus, a leader in the local synagogue, comes to beg him to heal his daughter, who is about to die. An unnamed woman who has been hemorrhaging for 12 years, sneaks up behind him to touch his cloak-she doesn't even dare speak to him, but believes that just by touching him, she will be healed.
These two stories are intertwined-the story of the woman with the flow of blood is sandwiched into the story of Jairus seeking help for his daughter. This is a favorite literary device in Mark. It creates suspense, as we agonize with Jairus over Jesus' delay in going to his critically ill child. But it is also an indication that the Gospel writer wants us to read these stories together and interpret them in terms of each other.
So let's compare these two people. At first glance, Jairus and the woman with the flow of blood seem very different. Jairus was a leader of the local synagogue-an educated man, with a good knowledge of the Torah and the law. He would have been well-known and respected in the community. The woman, on the other hand, was a social outcast. She was poor, because she had spent all she had on physicians who only made her worse. Worse than that, she was unclean because of her bleeding. Under the law, women were unclean during menstruation and for one week afterwards. She had been unclean for 12 years, which meant that anyone who touched her would have to go through elaborate purification rituals. It's hard to imagine what effect this would have on her marriage if she were married, or her family life if she had children. How could she have marital relations or hug her children if it made them unclean and subject to ritual purification? We are not told if she was married or had a family, but I suspect she was alone at this point because otherwise a male relative would have sought help on her behalf, as Jairus did for her daughter. Her social isolation and status as an outcast are underlined by the fact that she is not even named, in contrast to Jairus, whose name and occupation were recorded.
Despite the vast social difference between these two people, Jesus receives them both with great compassion, because both are in great need. When Jairus falls at his feet and begs him to come and lay hands on his daughter, he doesn't ask any questions, but goes with him without hesitation. He encourages him to have faith when his friends tell him his daughter is dead, and he shields him from the mockery of the mourners.
When the woman touches him and he feels power go out of him, he asks who touched him, and when she came in fear and trembling to tell him what she had done, he says, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease." He addresses not only her physical need for healing, but her need to be restored to community-to belong, to be accepted and loved. She is no longer a social outcast-she is a beloved daughter.
For Jesus, the difference in the social status between these two people was irrelevant. God's healing and compassion is for everyone. Jesus came to break down all the barriers between people-barriers of gender, class, ethnicity and race, religious taboos and so on. He came to show us what the reign of God looks like-a motley assortment of people gathered into a new community by God's healing love.
We are the community that Jesus has formed. We are a motley crew, old and young, rich and poor, healthy and sick, with hidden and visible disabilities, male and female, gay and straight, from different religious and ethnic backgrounds.
Underneath our differences, we have something in common, just as Jairus and the woman had something in common. We are all in need of healing, in one way or another. Whether we suffer from physical illness or debility, or emotional issues like anxiety, fear or loneliness, we long for healing and wholeness. We long for a sense of belonging and acceptance. We are all drawn here by the gospel message that God loves us deeply and longs to heal us and set us free.
The two people who encountered Jesus in today's gospel were also drawn by the promise of healing. And they were willing to take a risk for the sake of that promise. By falling at Jesus' feet and begging him for help, Jairus risked his reputation as a religious leader. Jesus was already in trouble with the local religious authorities at this point because of his unorthodox healings and exorcisms-he healed Gentiles, he touched unclean people, he healed on the Sabbath. By going to Jesus for help, Jairus exposed himself to ridicule, humiliation, and ostracism. But because of his desperate need, and his faith that Jesus could help, he took that risk.
The woman who touched Jesus' cloak also took a great risk. She faced a potentially very hostile situation. By touching Jesus' cloak, she would make him unclean and that could have provoked his wrath or the wrath of the crowd. When Jesus realized power had gone out of him and asked who touched him, instead of slinking away, she risked telling him the truth. Jesus affirms her decision to risk, saying, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease."
There is a message here for us. God longs to heal us, but it is up to us to reach out for that healing. It is up to us to show our vulnerability, acknowledge our need, and ask for healing, even if it makes us feel exposed or humiliated. No matter how discouraging our circumstances are, or how long we have been seeking help, or how shocked we think others might be, we can be healed if we are willing to risk asking for healing.
When we take the risk of asking Jesus for healing, we open the door for others to do the same. How can Jesus heal us if we don't invite him in? And how will others know that we believe he can heal us if they don't see us inviting him in?
When we acknowledge our vulnerability and reach out to Jesus for healing, the barriers between us fall away. The things that separate us-gender, age, race, sexual orientation and class-are not as important as our common humanity and our universal desire to be loved, accepted and healed.
Each week, as we gather around God's table, we experience again that we are part of a new community that transcends all human divisions. We are invited each week to reach out in faith and touch Jesus in the bread and wine, and ask for healing. We are invited to acknowledge our vulnerability and need without shame or fear, trusting that God wants nothing more than to make us whole and free.
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