Grace and peace from God our Creator and our Savior Jesus Christ. There is so much going on in this gospel text today.

Transcription

1 Pentecost 6 Mark 5:21-43; July 1, 2018 Rev. Patricia Schutz Grace and peace from God our Creator and our Savior Jesus Christ. There is so much going on in this gospel text today. The players are, perhaps, well known to many of us: Jairus, the large crowd, the hemorrhaging woman, Jairus s little daughter who is at the point of death, and, of course, Jesus. If we would act out this story like a play the intricacies of miracle would become more obvious, but even in our reading and hearing, and hopefully my proclamation, the drama and tension are palpable. In this story I ve read more times than I can count I stumbled over something new this time around, the redemptive gift of vulnerability and desperation. The words redemption and gift don t usually get paired with vulnerability and desperation, and the pairing isn t always true. But it is true here, in this gospel and it is true for us too, whenever Jesus is within reach. Human beings are vulnerable creatures; vulnerability is part of our package deal; the way we re put together. We all need healing from something, every one of us. We all have something that is either wrong with our bodies, or that has broken our heart, troubles our mind, wears away at our spirit, weighs down our soul. Yet, how many of us always readily admit when we re not feeling our usual

2 2 perky self, or tell the whole truth about just how bad our pain is? Of course we don t! We fiercely defend our independence, don t want to be a bother to others, are proud of how much pain we can bear, need to be strong for others sake, can t be sick or we ll lose our job, are afraid that if we confess we need help, we will be ridiculed, seen as weak, abandoned. We ve also become less tolerant and accepting of the vulnerabilities of others. We judge their desperateness, forgetting in our common humanity we aren t all that much different. Being vulnerable leads to suffering and suffering can lead us and others to act in desperation for relief. We want our needs filled, not always those of our neighbors. Just turn on the news where divisiveness, public shaming, verbal and physical violence, and outright hate are common signatures of desperation. When we are in the crowd that follows Jesus, when it s Jesus we reach for, when faith, not our own sense of power, motivates us to believe the unthinkable, that who we are in the present isn t God s intended limit for our future, when we dare to utter our whole truth out loud, God opens our eyes and hearts to what is already true: Compassion flows instinctively from Jesus when the broken and weak are near. God holds nothing back. God names us Daughter, Son, Child of mine, and gives us to one another so that healing can continue within relationships that honor the divinely human in each of us, the whole human family.

3 3 Jairus and the woman both act out of desperation, but there is a moment in the text that grabbed my heart and hasn t let go. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before Jesus, and told him the whole truth. When is the last time we told anyone, Jesus or otherwise our whole truth? Do we tell our spouse or partner or family or friends absolutely everything about our life, our hopes, fears, dreams, our every vulnerability. Do we ourselves even know what our whole truth is? We hide stuff even from ourselves, don t we? But this woman, knowing what had happened to her, came out from behind Jesus, fell down in front of him, and told him her whole truth, right there out in the open in front of everyone. She could have just told the truth. It was me, and stopped there. But when you re on your knees or on the ground at Jesus feet, there is enough grace, enough mercy to let the misery and mystery of the whole truth let loose. It was no longer blood she spilled but words, all the terrible, sad words about suffering and pain, isolation, loneliness, poverty, hopes that were raised and shattered, the way she grew no better but only became worse until there was barely anything left of her, except her faith that maybe God was as close as Jesus. She tells Jesus her whole truth. Jesus doesn t interrupt her or chastise or shame her, or yell at her for making him unclean with her touch. He gives her his full attention, his compassion and mercy that is even more intense and

4 4 overwhelming than her despair had been. This woman from the fringe of society is not an intrusion into a more important mission. She is not stealing the hopes and dreams of anyone. She is a child of God in need. What s more, no one interrupts her. Not a single, what do you think you are doing you unclean woman! You ve broken the law! You ve defiled Jesus and all the rest of us you ve bumped into. No, get out of here, go back to where you belong. No insults, no hate, no violence. No calling the authorities to have her forcibly removed. No shame from anyone. None. Finally, when her flow of words dry up, Jesus tears down the barriers that had kept her prisoner: Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease. Jesus gives her her true name, Daughter. In doing so, he gives her himself as a blood relative and puts the crowd on notice: she is just as important to Jesus as Jairus daughter is to her father. They are to accept her back into the community wholly and fully. Yes, she broke the purity laws, but once again Jesus makes clear that her healing, the restoration of her life, Jesus redemptive claim on her takes precedence over the law. Jesus also names for the woman the miracle of her healing: faith. In the presence of Jesus, vulnerability and desperation are transformed to what is life-giving and true. Your faith has made you well. Faith has made you well. Faith, your living and dynamic relationship of trust and love with the living and dynamic God of love and mercy, moves you to reach

5 5 out in all of your vulnerability to touch Jesus, no matter how desperate the circumstances. When you are bled dry of energy, hope, words to pray, comfort; when your body is hemorrhaging its vitality and good health, when even your faith appears to have bled out, even then, especially then, the power of healing and wholeness is within you. Jesus is within reach, as close as your breath, the Spirit s breath within you. And as long as the Spirit makes your chest rise and fall and rise again, makes your heart beat in sync with the Holy One, you have faith enough. Faith brings you to your knees in desperation before Jesus, opens your lips to say, It s me, Jesus. Faith catches the drop of hope that becomes the gushing spring of new life as you spill your whole truth to Jesus. You are not an intrusion into God s more important work. You are God s more important work. You might experience the instant miracle of healing like the woman in this story. Or you might not. The truth of the matter, though, hasn t changed. Hear these words of God s word again like you believe they can save your life: Daughter, Son, Child of mine, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease. In the end, and the beginning and the middle, faith leads only from and back to Gods Word, God s whole truth that God uttered into the world in Jesus Christ, that hung on the cross and died, God s whole truth that burst out of the tomb on the third day. God s whole truth saves you and me and the whole world.

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