Woman - Mark 5 25 -34 , Luke 8 43-48
My life was an utter nightmare. I was in constant pain from cramping and nausea. I was exhausted with no energy and I often felt dizzy. I was ceremonially unclean all the time and so had to keep myself away from people and couldnt live anything like a normal life . And I had spent an absolute fortune on doctors and medicines and treatments - none of which had made any improvement at all. In fact some had made things worse.
The treatments I had undergone included attempted cauterisation of my uterus, poultices and potions to be ingested and applied externally, and prayer for deliverance as the priests thought I might have a spirit of infirmity or be cursed in some way. I was miserable and completely without any hope. I had had the condition for twelve years. I was unmarriageable, and therefore a burden on my family. I couldnt work because I was unclean and unfit. My mental health was suffering and I could see no future. When I heard that the prophet Jesus was in town I wondered if the stories I was hearing about him were true. They were saying that he was able to heal people with all sorts of diseases. The lame were walking, the blind were seeing. And he was talking about God in a new way - people were wondering if he might be the promised Messiah. The buzz about him in town was growing daily. When I heard he was coming our way I decided to see if I could catch a glimpse of him. It was more than I dared hope that I could be presented to him for prayer - I had nobody to take me to him and besides, I wasnt allowed to be out in public. But if I could just see him then at least I would know what all the fuss was about. I went out. That in itself felt incredibly brave and incredibly wrong.
The crowds were unbelievable - Id never seen so many people out on the streets of our town before. I didnt know that many people lived here! But then again it had been many years since I had actually been out in a crowd of people so perhaps I was more overwhelmed than others would have been. I covered my face with a shawl so that nobody would recognise me and prayed that I would not start bleeding uncontrollably in the half an hour I had planned to be out on the streets. I reckoned that if I could get ahead of the crowd somewhere on the road out of town I might be able to catch sight of Jesus as he went on his way.
I was carried along by the press of people for quite some way before I heard someone near me say ' There he is! Look!. He's coming this way' I stood on tiptoe to try to see over the people in front of me but I was small and had no strength in me to struggle against the crowd. I suddenly felt really strongly that I had to see this Jesus. I wasnt going to leave my house for the first time in about a year, get this close to seeing him and then not see him. I looked round to see if I could find some vantage point. As I scanned my surroundings I noticed that some people to my left were standing on a platform made of wooden crates which had been placed over a ditch which was being dug in the road. I looked at the ditch and had a sudden mad thought that I could probably squeeze myself under the crates, into the ditch and then crawl along it , under the people and come out on the other side of the road where there were far fewer people. Under normal circumstances this was not something which I would ever have considered doing or even thinking about. But for some reason the excitement of the crowd seemed to infect me and I urgently wanted to see Jesus. I gathered my skirts and got down on my hands and knees, crawled underneath the crates and slipped down into the ditch which was dusty but mercifully dry. I then crawled on my hands and knees along the length of the ditch, aware all the time of people standing on the wooden planks above my head shouting the name of Jesus.
After a minute or so I came to the end of the ditch and found a gap in the boards above my head. I dont know where I found the strength to wriggle out but as I was struggling to surface a kind stranger leaned down to offer me their hand and pull me up. I smiled and took the outstretched hand praying that nobody would recognise me. I knew that in touching my helper I was making him unclean. I smiled and thanked him and covered my face again with my shawl. Just then the noise of the crowd seemed to subside for a minute and through a gap in the people in front of me I saw one of the leaders of the synagogue on his knees in the road in front of a young man. I couldnt quite hear what was being said, but the synagogue leader looked quite upset and the young man put his hand out to help him up and then the two of them turned in my direction and began to walk towards me. I realised in a flash that this young man was Jesus, and that he was about to walk within a couple of feet of me.
I dont know where it came from, but all of a sudden I felt a surge of courage rush through me and I reached out my hand and touched Jesus as he walked past. Im not quite sure what I thought would happen if I touched him, but I certainly never imagined that I would be completely and totally healed in that very instant. I jumped back as though I had burned my hand in a fire. I felt strong and well and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my bleeding had stopped. I was shaking. I wanted to shout and tell the whole crowd what had happened to me. But of course I couldnt do that.
As I was processing all this I realised that Jesus had stopped and was looking around him. I then became aware that he was speaking ' Someone touched me. Someone deliberately touched me because they needed healing. I felt healing go out from me. Who was it? ' Oh no! I could have died with shame. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to know that I had been illegally in the company of other people stealing healing power from this prophet. He was probably really cross. I was mortified. I looked at the ground and tried to quietly move to the edge of the crowd. But he spoke again and said ' Who touched me?' As I looked up at him he looked directly at me. And I knew that he knew. He knew it was me. How could he have known? There were people all round him touching him....... He kept looking at me, and then he smiled. A huge wave of relief washed over me and I raised my hand and said ' It was me sir'
He waved me over to him and people stepped aside to let me through. I noticed that the leader of the synagogue looked rather cross at this. Jesus took my hand and the crowd gasped. That was most irregular and against all the rules. But I was very glad to hold his hand as he asked me why I had touched him. I told him that I had been ill for twelve years. I told him about my bleeding, about the doctors, the treatments, the failure of anything to make any difference and the fact that when I had touched Jesus I had been instantly and miraculously healed. I expected him to let go of my hand when I mentioned the bleeding but he didn't. He just kept smiling at me. Then he said ' Daughter, I am so happy for you, that is wonderful. You demonstrated faith in me by being determined to seek me out and to reach out to me for healing. And now you are well. Go home and enjoy the peace in your body and mind that you have received here today'.
Later, when I was replaying those moments in my head again and again, I wondered why he had called me ' daughter'. It was an odd thing to say but I liked it and thought about it alot over the days and years that followed. If I was a daughter then that made him a father. My father. My healer , my saviour. My lord.
The treatments I had undergone included attempted cauterisation of my uterus, poultices and potions to be ingested and applied externally, and prayer for deliverance as the priests thought I might have a spirit of infirmity or be cursed in some way. I was miserable and completely without any hope. I had had the condition for twelve years. I was unmarriageable, and therefore a burden on my family. I couldnt work because I was unclean and unfit. My mental health was suffering and I could see no future. When I heard that the prophet Jesus was in town I wondered if the stories I was hearing about him were true. They were saying that he was able to heal people with all sorts of diseases. The lame were walking, the blind were seeing. And he was talking about God in a new way - people were wondering if he might be the promised Messiah. The buzz about him in town was growing daily. When I heard he was coming our way I decided to see if I could catch a glimpse of him. It was more than I dared hope that I could be presented to him for prayer - I had nobody to take me to him and besides, I wasnt allowed to be out in public. But if I could just see him then at least I would know what all the fuss was about. I went out. That in itself felt incredibly brave and incredibly wrong.
The crowds were unbelievable - Id never seen so many people out on the streets of our town before. I didnt know that many people lived here! But then again it had been many years since I had actually been out in a crowd of people so perhaps I was more overwhelmed than others would have been. I covered my face with a shawl so that nobody would recognise me and prayed that I would not start bleeding uncontrollably in the half an hour I had planned to be out on the streets. I reckoned that if I could get ahead of the crowd somewhere on the road out of town I might be able to catch sight of Jesus as he went on his way.
I was carried along by the press of people for quite some way before I heard someone near me say ' There he is! Look!. He's coming this way' I stood on tiptoe to try to see over the people in front of me but I was small and had no strength in me to struggle against the crowd. I suddenly felt really strongly that I had to see this Jesus. I wasnt going to leave my house for the first time in about a year, get this close to seeing him and then not see him. I looked round to see if I could find some vantage point. As I scanned my surroundings I noticed that some people to my left were standing on a platform made of wooden crates which had been placed over a ditch which was being dug in the road. I looked at the ditch and had a sudden mad thought that I could probably squeeze myself under the crates, into the ditch and then crawl along it , under the people and come out on the other side of the road where there were far fewer people. Under normal circumstances this was not something which I would ever have considered doing or even thinking about. But for some reason the excitement of the crowd seemed to infect me and I urgently wanted to see Jesus. I gathered my skirts and got down on my hands and knees, crawled underneath the crates and slipped down into the ditch which was dusty but mercifully dry. I then crawled on my hands and knees along the length of the ditch, aware all the time of people standing on the wooden planks above my head shouting the name of Jesus.
After a minute or so I came to the end of the ditch and found a gap in the boards above my head. I dont know where I found the strength to wriggle out but as I was struggling to surface a kind stranger leaned down to offer me their hand and pull me up. I smiled and took the outstretched hand praying that nobody would recognise me. I knew that in touching my helper I was making him unclean. I smiled and thanked him and covered my face again with my shawl. Just then the noise of the crowd seemed to subside for a minute and through a gap in the people in front of me I saw one of the leaders of the synagogue on his knees in the road in front of a young man. I couldnt quite hear what was being said, but the synagogue leader looked quite upset and the young man put his hand out to help him up and then the two of them turned in my direction and began to walk towards me. I realised in a flash that this young man was Jesus, and that he was about to walk within a couple of feet of me.
I dont know where it came from, but all of a sudden I felt a surge of courage rush through me and I reached out my hand and touched Jesus as he walked past. Im not quite sure what I thought would happen if I touched him, but I certainly never imagined that I would be completely and totally healed in that very instant. I jumped back as though I had burned my hand in a fire. I felt strong and well and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my bleeding had stopped. I was shaking. I wanted to shout and tell the whole crowd what had happened to me. But of course I couldnt do that.
As I was processing all this I realised that Jesus had stopped and was looking around him. I then became aware that he was speaking ' Someone touched me. Someone deliberately touched me because they needed healing. I felt healing go out from me. Who was it? ' Oh no! I could have died with shame. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to know that I had been illegally in the company of other people stealing healing power from this prophet. He was probably really cross. I was mortified. I looked at the ground and tried to quietly move to the edge of the crowd. But he spoke again and said ' Who touched me?' As I looked up at him he looked directly at me. And I knew that he knew. He knew it was me. How could he have known? There were people all round him touching him....... He kept looking at me, and then he smiled. A huge wave of relief washed over me and I raised my hand and said ' It was me sir'
He waved me over to him and people stepped aside to let me through. I noticed that the leader of the synagogue looked rather cross at this. Jesus took my hand and the crowd gasped. That was most irregular and against all the rules. But I was very glad to hold his hand as he asked me why I had touched him. I told him that I had been ill for twelve years. I told him about my bleeding, about the doctors, the treatments, the failure of anything to make any difference and the fact that when I had touched Jesus I had been instantly and miraculously healed. I expected him to let go of my hand when I mentioned the bleeding but he didn't. He just kept smiling at me. Then he said ' Daughter, I am so happy for you, that is wonderful. You demonstrated faith in me by being determined to seek me out and to reach out to me for healing. And now you are well. Go home and enjoy the peace in your body and mind that you have received here today'.
Later, when I was replaying those moments in my head again and again, I wondered why he had called me ' daughter'. It was an odd thing to say but I liked it and thought about it alot over the days and years that followed. If I was a daughter then that made him a father. My father. My healer , my saviour. My lord.
Comments
Post a Comment