Remembering to Reach
AM Psalm 80 • PM Psalm 77, [79]
Gen. 44:18-34 • 1 Cor. 7:25-31 • Mark 5:21-43
I have thought often of the woman we hear about in chapter five of Mark’s gospel who had been sick for so long, who had gone to one doctor after another seeking answers, only to become more and more ill as time went by. Out of options, I imagine she had lost hope. But now comes this man, this celebrity—Jesus, whom she has heard about. A magician? A healer? She believes Jesus can help her, if only she can touch his clothes as he passes by—that will be enough. Whatever the premise, her daring faith astounds me—the courage to reach out her hand.
We know that in Biblical times, illness was correlated to evil. Imagine this woman's life: bleeding anytime meant you were unclean; twelve years of it meant no human touch or contact, no entry into synagogue, the market, any public space. Perceived as evil and shunned for it, the loneliness must have been devastating. In addition, she had spent all she had on healthcare for twelve years so she was most likely homeless. Still, she pushes through the mob, unclean and unwelcome, enduring scorn and contempt, just to get close enough to reach out her hand.
And after that moment—she knows she is healed, Jesus knows she is healed—why is it important that she come forward when Jesus calls out a second time, who touched me? Jesus wasn’t just healing her physical self, he was calling her to heal her spirit; to confess, to acknowledge, to give witness to all those listening. She came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. His response embodies all we may ever hope for:
| Daughter | (confirming us as children of God) | |
| your faith has made you well | (commending her confidence and belief) | |
| go in peace and be healed... | (blessing her with reassurance). |
Thank you, God, for your daily reminders that we are all your children. Let our faith and confidence in you grow each day. Let our spirits be cleansed and healed, knowing we are always welcome at your table and in your loving arms.
Written by Bernadette Reda
Bernadette finds joy in gratitude for the loving community of St Paul's; for her family and her human and animal friends.