You are Welcome to Reflect on this Message
From The First Baptist Church of America pulpit
The First Sunday of Lent – February 10, 2008
“Who Touched Me?” (Mark 5:21-43)
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Jesus was so interruptible. Isn’t that after all the mark of a minister--granting people access? Staying too busy can be avoidance in any vocation. But overload is more descriptive of Jesus’ early ministry in Galilee. Surrounded by appetites; the needs were great.

Today’s Lenten story has enough fear, anger, and intrigue to keep it interesting. It also has election overtones and finds Jesus being approached by someone wanting something from him. Nothing unusual about that. Like our Centurion, a father sought healing for his child. But his was no ordinary appetite. Jairus, or Jerry, was a local leader in the synagogue, with real clout. But he was also desperate with fear of losing someone he loved.

From the point of view of Jesus’ movement, which was picking up steam. Think: Barack Obama. This was a leader with stature and cash, who could greatly benefit his ministry, if he would grant the man’s wish. So a whole lot was riding on this chance encounter. Clearly Jerry expected Jesus to drop what he’s doing and hurry over to help his kid. Time is of the essence, to the distraught father. But Jesus is the Lord of time. In a similar action to stalling his arrival at Bethany with his friend Lazarus in John’s Gospel, Jesus isn’t so time-bound, especially when it has to do with somebody’s death. Do you think he knew something we don’t? No matter. It still was important that Jesus not blow this opportunity to minister to a man of influence. It’s not every day that a fortuitous occasion like this drops in your lap. If Jesus produces here, it could mean a public endorsement and other goodies for his cause, down the road.

So the crowd is scurrying along on their way to the child’s sick bed, when all of a sudden, in the midst of a throng of everyday people, filled with anticipation, Jesus stopped, seemingly oblivious to time, absorbed with one person who “touched him.” Imagine the ruler’s impatience as Jesus inquired about someone, who touched him! A little girl is dying. They haven’t got all day. The situation is urgent. Yet Jesus allows himself to be interrupted, to stop and acknowledge a transaction that just occurred.

Something nobody else saw or felt. Something nobody but Jesus would even consider. But most of the people in the crowd were so excited, they couldn’t tell the difference, but Jesus could. He was so interruptible, he’d sacrifice obvious gain for his cause, taking precious moments to engage in a conversation with a woman who, for the past 12 years, had been having a tough go of it. Having been barred from worship and participation in the life of her people because her medical condition rendered her unclean. What is this? An important person whose kid was dying, is being delayed because of a nobody with a chronic condition who hangs around the side of the road?

Mark never names her, but Jesus made time for her. She suffered a long time, exhausting the medical knowledge of the experts of her time: “Enduring much under many physicians, spent all she had and was worse for it, not better.” This one, as a last resort, determined to connect with Jesus as he passed along on an important mission. Always a wise thing, but not wanting to make a fuss or detain him from his golden opportunity, she stole around him from behind and reached out, “If I could just ... touch the hem of his garment.”

Maybe that’ll do it. So she reaches out to Jesus, with a touch and hope for healing and again Jesus stops in his tracks: “Who touched me?” His disciples play the straight men, “Who touched you?” “What do you mean, who touched you?” People jamming, jostling. What kind of question is that? But Jesus knew. Something different happened, from all the other touches. Something special. “Power went out of him.” He felt the energy draining. Anytime that happens, you know it. Of all the contact that day, Jesus recognized only one had touched him as a form of prayer. Nobody touched him like that but her. So he says to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your affliction’”(Mk 5:34). This is the only place in all scripture where Jesus calls somebody “daughter.”

But faith wasn’t all she had. This lady had guts too. Sometimes it takes both. Everybody knew Jesus was on a serious mission of healing a synagogue leader’s child. To even think that he might by chance stop for her or if not, the best she could do was to believe that she was worthy of grace too, there’s so much courage in her that I’d call it faith. Because so many think they’re unworthy.

So, busy-Jesus, on his way to heal a rich man’s daughter, isn’t so busy that he can’t stop to heal God’s “daughter, your faith made you well.” By using that intimate term of endearment, was he not in effect saying, “You are part of my family too. And it’s OK. I’m approachable. You don’t have to be a millionaire donor to gain access to me.”

You know how it feels to be needed for something important and have to be called away to deal with something ordinary? Preacher’s face that all the time. Here’s a prime occasion for Jesus to make a name for himself. Healing this guy’s kid would open doors for his campaign. Think of the publicity. His popularity would soar. He could write a book, appear on “Larry King Live,” start a church. But he stops and the woman ‘fesses up. This gal’s got guts, integrity. And the “whole truth” is, more has been healed than just a medical problem. By her faith, her courage, her honesty she and Jesus have broken down the barriers of social class, gender issues, ritual purity...all the taboos of society that we hide behind.

On the way to something very important, these two accomplish something a lot more significant. Together they expose the shameful idea that what’s wrong with her was her fault. Jesus didn’t just heal an outcast, but outcast-ness. Not just a woman, but our fear of her daring to have a self, to believe she is somebody worthy of care too. Not just her untouchability, but the wrong-headed theological idea that the divine is untouchable. So she touched him. And he claimed her, blessed her, as his “daughter.” Because without her, Jesus couldn’t have taught the wonderful lesson, that disease is not just about medicine. It has social, religious, emotional, spiritual, and economic repercussions as well. But also joy. With healing comes joy. Both daughters and every body else, were elated by Jesus’ touch when they learned that God is found in the midst of our illnesses as much as he is in our victories.

So Jesus is asking about this one seeking a stealth healing and the disciples are upset that a windfall to enhance their mission is being stonewalled. And it looks like their greatest fears were confirmed. For right in the middle of this “Who done it?” stuff, a sad word arrived that the little girl didn’t make it. But a nameless woman’s life has been forever changed, but at a great price; the life a child.

It’s quite a story: Jesus is on his way to raise the dead, and gets interrupted by a woman almost dead. She’s at the end of her rope. And the tension gets heightened by her intrusion. The disciples are disgusted. They’d much rather be involved in sensational resurrections, but too often have to deal with the lesser, more exhausting tasks of ministry. They want Jesus to get on with the real kingdom work and ignore this bleeder who’s only holding up the important stuff. But Jesus finds the kingdom in every moment and every person.

So the woman is healed by a prayerful touch and saving faith. She doesn’t have faith because she’s healed. Rather, it was her faith that just a simple touch from Jesus could make her well. You want to know what faith is? And everybody was disappointed in Jesus, for allowing himself to be interrupted, now that the young girl was beyond saving. Her Daddy was no doubt crushed at the lost opportunity. There goes the money! And the disciples, thinking that Jesus blew a chance to make a good impression on a religious leader who could be of real help to them, while frittering away precious time with this nobody woman of little consequence. Misplaced priorities? Or typical gospel?

Of course, we know how the story turned out. But Mark seems to be saying Jesus is not one who can be summoned for our own selfish purposes, like some genie out of a bottle. But he will pause to relieve suffering in the midst of our crises, if we would trust in him like she did. After the brief interruption, Jesus finally went on to Jerry’s house, never one to be stymied by a little thing like death. Brushing off the criticism along the way, he gave the girl her life back. And not just one, but two daughters were made whole.

So what do we make of these healing stories, sandwiched together in Mark’s Gospel? Jesus, hurrying to an important person’s house when time is short, yet interrupting that effort to search for and uplift an unclean woman with no-name. Isn’t that just like Jesus? And isn’t Mark reminding us that no matter what difference society places upon persons in terms of social standing, in the eyes of God the ground is level? This unnamed woman is no less important to Jesus than the child of a prominent religious leader. There are no favorites in the kingdom of God.  Whoever we are, wherever we’ve been, whatever we’ve done, of had done to us, in God’s eyes we’re all important. When we approach him with a prayer for help, our prayers will be answered. But our prayers won’t always be the answer we hoped for or how we expect it to happen, according to the timing we had in mind. The bottom line of both stories is this: when we reach out to connect with God in faith, we will not be disappointed. Neither the woman nor Jairus were ultimately disappointed.

Maybe you’re familiar with Whittier’s poem, “The Master.” It includes this line:
“The healing of his seamless dress, lies by our beds of pain;
We touch him in life’s throng and press, And we are whole again.”

And whether our “beds of pain” happen to be in the high-rent district, or the other side of the tracks, no one is beyond the healing touch of Jesus, for those who dare to reach out to him in faith. He died and rose for us all.

Pastoral Prayer: 2/10/08
God the Great Physician who touches us, the Good Shepherd who tends us, healer of all our souls and ills. To your greatness, our worship adds nothing. But unless we worship, we diminish everything. So we lift our hearts and voices in gratitude for this opportunity to gather in Thy presence, for this historic place in which we can freely worship Thee, whose Spirit informs us and sometimes reforms us.

We gather as a people of faith, like the unnamed woman in the Galilee, convinced not by the persuasion of our minds but by the experiences of our lives, the hope in our hearts and the ripples of laughter that limit our pretensions.  We come with minds, cluttered with the cares of everyday living. Some of our hearts are aching, with silent suffering. May the music today serve as a means of encouragement. Our souls long to be unburdened. May the prayers we offer be an occasion for confession and renewal. Our strength falls far short of self-sufficiency. May Thy word nourish us to see Thee more clearly, love Thee more dearly, follow Thee more nearly...day by day.

We praise Thee for the sense of continuity we feel with those who followed in another day and with gratitude for this, Thy lively congregation and for the steadfastness of Thy healing. We offer this prayer in Jesus’ name...Amen.