Pentecost 5B
June 27, 2021
Grace, Waseca, MN
Mark 5.21-43
As the father of two girls, I have a sense of Jairus’ desperation in the Gospel reading for today as he seeks to get healing for his daughter. Very early in our oldest daughter’s life, Angela developed almost unending bouts of bronchitis. There were times I slept by her crib fearful she’d stop breathing. Finally, I begged our doctor, whom we very much liked and respected, that we needed to do something. He agreed and referred us to a specialist who diagnosed her with moderate to severe asthma with allergies while not so subtly chiding us for not doing something sooner. Then, when our youngest was about 5 or 6, she woke with severe hip pain that paralyzed her. We were in Pennsylvania where I was attending seminary and we didn’t have a pediatrician yet, so I picked Amy up, bundled her into the car, and took her to the emergency room where she was diagnosed with a staph infection.
Fortunately, neither one of them has “endured much under many physicians” like the unnamed woman with the hemorrhage, though Angela will live with her asthma and allergies forever. Also, luckily, neither of these are shameful diseases, though I think Angela feels like an outcast at times because she has to be very careful what she eats and the things she can do. Furthermore, I didn’t need to risk my self-respect to get our girls help, but I sure would have done so if it was necessary. Now, even though there is a great deal of emphasis on the faith of the woman and Jairus, which is not to be ignored, I’d like to focus on the One who makes that faith possible and its implications for us today.
Aside from the incredible that healing Jesus brings, not to be dismissed lightly, are the boundaries Jesus crosses to do so and what it means to them and to us that he has crossed those boundaries. First, it’s important to know that the woman with hemorrhage was considered unclean in Jewish society. As if 12 years of suffering weren’t enough, she would not have been able to worship in the temple or synagogue or even be around people for that entire time. Just coming into contact with Jesus would have made him ritually unclean, disastrous for a Jew. And then Jesus compounds his uncleanness by touching the dead body of the girl. Now he’s doubly unclean.
Yet, even more remarkably, Jesus stops on his way to heal the girl, which may have cost her life, to fully touch the woman. Even after she was cured of the disease, he curiously pronounces that she is now healed. But to get the full impact of what Jesus is saying we need to know that the word for healed is really translated as “saved.” Jesus says, “Your faith has saved you.” In other words, she has nothing to be ashamed of anymore and she is now fully restored to life, God’s shalom. As I think about this woman, I wonder how many of us are walking around hemorrhaging with shame, feeling like outcasts, enduring much under those who may be judging us, perhaps the harshest from ourselves.
A number of years ago, “Carol” stopped by my office and asked to see me. Of course I agreed; I respected Carol and made time for her. My curiosity turned to shame as she began to tell me that a joke I told at a recent public event was inappropriate. As I listened to her, I realized with horror that she was right and a deep shame came over me. But Carol was Jesus to me that day, pronouncing forgiveness and reminding me that although it was appropriate that I express guilt for what I had done, that I was also loved and not to be shamed. In doing so, Carol restored me to the fullness of life in community and as her pastor. Since then, the work of sociologist Brené Brown regarding shame and vulnerability has been instrumental in my personal life and my ministry. Dr. Brown has many worthwhile books, but I highly recommend The Gifts of Imperfection.
Two weeks ago, we started exploring two of Jesus’ parables that described the Kingdom of God. We recognized that Jesus was trying to convey with images something that can’t be readily defined. Jesus was saying that the kingdom of God wasn’t as much a future promise as it is a present reality, that the kingdom life could be lived here and now in some way. I think that these healing stories give us another glimpse of what Jesus means by the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is life as God intends, flourishing and abundant, where we can experience God’s shalom and healing.
There are two things I want to leave you with today. First, that if you are hemorrhaging from shame or anything that is keeping you back, if there are dead parts of you, know that Jesus comes and restores you to healing and inclusion. You are a beloved child of God. Second, I want you to look for opportunities to be Jesus to others like Carol was to me, to remind others that they, too, are beloved of God and fully included in God’s merciful, loving embrace. Maybe you see someone struggling and all you need to say is, “You’ve got this” or “It’ll be okay.” You can figure it out. Then come back and tell us how it went. So, let’s go from here to be the healing presence of shalom that our world so desperately needs. Amen.
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