Printer Friendly Version

CROSS EXAMINATIONS:
PRESENCE ISN'T POWER

MARK 5:21-34

I am going to say a word and the moment I say the word I want you to see a face--to recall a face and a name--someone who comes to your mind when I say the word. Are you ready?

The word is "bitter." Bitter.

Do you see a face? I see a face. I see the face of a farmer in western Kansas, riding a mortgaged tractor, burning gasoline purchased on credit, moving across rented land, rearranging the dust.

Bitter.

Do you see a face? I see a face. I see the face of a woman, 47 years old. She sits out on a hillside, drawn and confused, under a green canopy furnished by the mortuary. She is surrounded by flowers, sprinkled with cards that say, "Sorry for your loss. Life will go on. You have our condolences."

I see the faces of a young couple. They're about 20. They're standing in the airport terminal, holding hands so tight their knuckles are white. She's pregnant; he's dressed in military green. They're not talking, just standing and looking at each other. The loudspeaker comes on: "Flight 392 for San Francisco now boarding." He slowly moves toward the gate. She stands there alone. She waves and tries to smile. But I want you to see her face.*

Bitter.

Will you look at one other face? We don't know her name, but we know her crisis. We don't know how it began, but we know her hopelessness. She has lived with a bleeding hemorrhage for 12 years. She has been labeled "unclean" by the teachers of the law and subjected to Levitical prohibitions, meaning she was unable to touch or be touched by anyone. She was cut off from her family, her friends, and her church.

Bitter.

Bitter because she not only bore the burden of her disease but also carried the condemnation of her shame. She feared the judgments of those who believed her illness was the direct result of some personal sin. Her predicament has not only left her physically hurting and socially unclean but also religiously a sinner.

And with a bleeding uterus anyone could guess what kind of sin she has committed. She walks down the street calling, "Unclean, unclean!" staring at the ground with a flushed face, while whispers behind her back are accusing, "She has obviously sinned, and we know how!"

Bitter.

But she knows that she's innocent of any wrongdoing, and so she takes her stigma from doctor to doctor, each with the perfect diagnosis, until her money ran out. Then the report was unanimous, "You have sinned. There is nothing more we can do to help."

She is tired of the shame. Tired of the stigma. Tired of the rumors. Tired of the waiting. Tired of her loneliness. She is just tired.

She feels hopeless. Her dreams of having any other life have been shattered. She can never hope again for a husband or to hold a child in her arms. She can never hope again for the tender touch of a compassionate friend or an encouraging word from a neighbor. She is an outcast. An untouchable.

Now anemic, sick, and humiliated, she is forced to ask the most difficult question of all, "Has even God abandoned me? Am I an orphan of my own Creator?"

Bitter!

Jesus' disciples, on the other hand, are ecstatic. They have just completed their first successful mission. They are fired up. Things are going their way. Now even Jairus, the influential synagogue ruler of Capernaum, has just given them their second assignment. And they couldn't be more pleased.

Finally, Jesus is being recognized for who He is. Finally, some public accolades for their hard work. Finally, some time on the top.

Just look at the crowd. There must be hundreds of people. All screaming and yelling for Jesus. A successful mission--public recognition--the key to the city. Finally, things were going their way. Feeling their second wind, the disciples decide to take charge, and they begin to pull Jesus through the crowd.

And she came.

Why do you think she was there? Why would she take the risk of public humiliation in the middle of such a large crowd? The entire city knew who she was and what they thought she was. Untouchables are better off hidden and unseen.

Why was she there? Why would she put her hope in yet another healer? Why would she trust in another physician?

I'll tell you why I think she was there. I believe she has stood in the shadows and listened to the stories about Jesus. I believe she has heard that He was a Healer who touched the untouchables, who touched the demon-possessed and the lepers, who reached out to society's rejects, who had compassion for the forgotten ones.

I believe hope has brought her there. And so she comes. She's not sure what she'll do when she sees Him, but she covers her face, steps into the ocean of people, and silently slips her way through the crowd.

The crowd is paying no attention. They are pushing and shoving with every eye glued on Jesus. Finally, she sees Him. Her mind is racing and her heart begins to pound: "If I can just touch Him, maybe I can be healed."

She stands just behind Him, and as He walks by, she stretches out her hand and touches the edge of His robe. And immediately Jesus stops. "Somebody touched Me!"

Everyone else stops, and a hush falls over the crowd. Jesus' disciples are getting a little nervous. They've seen Him do things like this before. The Bible doesn't say who said it, but because Peter never could stand the silence, I have a feeling he took charge. "Lord, what do You mean, somebody touched You? Of course, somebody touched You. Look at the crowd. There are hundreds of people touching You. Now, come on. We've got a mission. Things are starting to come together. Let's not mess this thing up."

The disciples can't tell the difference between a shove and a touch. But Jesus can, and He says, "No! Somebody touched Me. Somebody really touched Me." And He turns to scan the crowd. Then His eyes meet her eyes.

Don't ask me how He knew, but He knew. And she knew. The unclean, unwanted, untouchable woman knew. And in the power of that moment her shoulders began to shake and she burst into tears. The Bible tells us she was trembling, and I can see her falling to her knees, with the tears streaming down her face.

The crowd takes notice, and they are making judgments. They are judging her, and they are judging Jesus. "Doesn't He know who she is? She is an untouchable!"

But Jesus doesn't see an untouchable. He sees 12 years of anguish and pain. He sees 12 years of shame and rejection. He sees 12 years of bitterness. And He sees the incredible risk she took to stand in the crowd.

Jesus is not ashamed to touch the untouchable woman. I see Him dropping to one knee, stretching out His hands, placing them on her shoulders, and with great tenderness saying, "Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering" (v. 34).

This is the only time in the Bible that Jesus calls someone "daughter." Do you know why? He wants her to know that she has not been orphaned by her Creator. She belongs in the family. In that moment Jesus does more than heal her disease. He gives her new life. He gives her new hope. And He restores her dream.

What an amazing story! I have to tell you, though, that there is something about it that really bothers me. It's a question with an answer I'm a little afraid to hear.

Why was this woman's touch the only touch in the crowd? Hundreds of people were touching Jesus, but only one really touched Him. Why?

I have wrestled with that question. I couldn't figure it out until I realized something. I have been in that crowd. I also have followed Christ in the heat of the moment and pressed near to Jesus. But the question is, How many times have those encounters changed my life? How many times have I touched Jesus in the rush of religious activity but never really touched Him?

You say, "Now, hold on. I go to church, I read my Bible, I give my tithe, and I even give up a couple of Saturdays a year when the church has a workday." All of that may be true, yet it is also true that it is possible to be in His presence and yet be far from His power.

Yet the brokenness of our lives is never brought to wholeness until we cling only to Him and He becomes our source of life. His power can bring healing. His power can restore hope. His power can conquer disappointment. His power can free us from the dead end of bitterness.

Do you want to do more than be in God's presence? Do you long to be touched by His power? Reach out and let His grace touch you today.

*Adapted from a sermon by Fred Craddock, "Praying Through Clenched Teeth."