Mark 5:21-43 · A Dead Girl and A Sick Woman
The Healing Community
Mark 5:21-43
Sermon
by Ron Lavin
Loading...

Dr. Granger Westberg, the founder of Wholistic Medicine, Inc., Chicago, Illinois, asks this question when he talks to nurses, doctors, and pastors: "What is the healthiest hour of the week?" How would you answer that question? Dr. Westberg surprises many people by answering, "The hour of worship on Sunday morning."  Why is that true? In order to answer that question we need to consider two other questions which Dr. Westberg often puts to his audiences: (1) What is the major factor in sickness? and (2) What is the major factor in health? How would you answer those questions? 

One medical study shows that the major cause of sickness is revenge. Dr. Westberg quotes a survey of stroke patients most of whom admitted that there was someone against whom they felt a significant amount of revenge. In many cases, that revenge is a repressed feeling, an attitude instead of an expressed action. That same medical study shows that the major factor in staying healthy is gratitude. The ancient psalmists had the right idea: "Praise is comely for the upright." 

Worship at its best offers the opportunity to resolve conflict through forgiveness and to express feelings of gratitude through praising God for his acts of grace and mercy. At its best, the church is a healing community. 

Of course, the church is not always at its best. Sometimes churches are legalistic or judgmental. Instead of bringing healing, they bring sickness. The church can only be at its best when the members center on and conform themselves to Jesus, the Healer. 

Jesus, the Healer.

Our story (Mark 5:24b-34) is about Jesus the divine physician, and an anonymous woman with a twelve-year-old hemorrhage. This woman suddenly appears on the scene as Jesus is on his way to heal Jairus’ daughter. Just as suddenly, she disappears, never to be heard from again. 

This woman is a "nobody" with an indefinable female complaint. Jesus takes her out of the crowd and puts her on the center stage as an example of faith. She says, "If I can only touch the hem of his garment I will be healed." She should be given a three-hour theological lecture on the impropriety of trying to use God for her own ends. Instead, Jesus takes her as she is and heals her. Amazing! Shocking! Encouraging! 

Encouraging? Yes, because Jesus begins with her where she is. He feels her fingertips on his robe in the midst of a whooping, shouting, shoving crowd of people. He has the Kingdom of God on his mind - how to win back the world to his Father, a strategy for salvation of the human race, the immensity of his task, the anticipation of his excruciating suffering and death - yet he is aware of the touch of her trembling, outstretched fingertips.  Nothing - no one - is too small for this Creator of the universe. Story after story in the gospels tell of this same amazing individuality. Jesus sees each person as a child of God. With Jesus there is no such thing as a crowd; there are only individual children of God who have come together. Therefore, this is an encouraging story. 

Apparently the woman heard a rumor about Jesus the faith healer. She had tried many others. She was desperate. Nothing had worked. She would try anything to get healed. "Not very high motivation," you say. Right! Many people have said to me, "I would like to come to God, but right now I am too down. Let me get my act together first. Then I will become a Christian. If I come now, it will be because of my desperate need." They intuitively sense that their motivation is about a "two" on a scale of one to ten. Today’s story encourages all of us to come as we are, wherever we are. 

What does the woman expect? Magic? If she were joining a cult or a satanic group, one might say that her expectation, though ill-founded, was at least appropriate for the group. Instead, she is approaching the founder of Christianity. She has a terrible misunderstanding of how God works. If she were in seminary, she would flunk. She moves in on Jesus from behind, wanting to maintain her anonymity, not seeking Christian fellowship, not asking for her faith to be strengthened, just wanting to touch the hem of his robe. Magic. Superstition. Even a beginning confirmation student could tell her that this approach just doesn’t work with God. It is wild heresy. "Jesus, straighten up her theology. Jesus, ignore her or give her a lecture, or better yet, make her an example of how people ought not to approach God," we think. 

The woman is worse than those who say, "Jesus is a great teacher, but no more. Certainly, he is not the Savior of the world." These humanists want a moral example, a leader whom they can evaluate and classify and codify, but at least they know better than to expect primitive magic from Jesus Christ. "Jesus, straighten out her attitude," we think. 

Yet, nothing like that occurs.  Instead, Jesus turns and asks, "Who touched me?" Amazing! Shocking! Encouraging!  The greatness of Jesus Christ is that long before he straightens out our false theologies, long before he corrects our false presuppositions, he accepts us. He starts with us where we are.

Do you have a marriage problem?
A job problem?
An alcohol problem?
A drug problem?
An emotional problem?
A health problem?

Jesus will start with you wherever you are willing to start. 

"Who touched me?" Jesus asked. She didn’t answer. She froze. Something had happened in her body. She felt it. Now something happened in her mind. Quite simply, she was afraid. 

She knew the Mosaic law which said that a woman with a flow of blood was considered unclean, like a leper. She was barred from worship services. She was shunned by her family and friends. Whatever we may think of these primitive laws, we must recognize that these were the laws by which her society operated. She was judged by many people in her day as having sinned in some awful way. She was burdened almost to the breaking point by her isolation and sense of shame. She was an outcast for twelve long years. 

"Who touched me?" Jesus asked. The woman began to shake all over. "What could she say?" Her first thought was that she had transferred her uncleanliness to Jesus. That is how many people in her primitive society thought. She thought, "I have infected him." Something monstrous had happened. "I have saddled him with my suffering." 

The shaking woman came forth and told Jesus the whole truth as she perceived it. He then said to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease." Amazing! Shocking! Encouraging!  Jesus sets the pattern. Start with people where they are. Heal them - body and soul - by being willing to share their suffering. This is what we, the Christian Church, are to be about. At its best, the Christian Church on earth is an extension of Jesus in the world. At their best, Christians too are healers, not in any sense replacing medical science, but adding a dimension which is much needed in healing - compassion. 

The Church, The Healing Community. 

With all its imperfections, sins, blemishes, and warts, the Church of Jesus Christ is the intended healer of the world’s wounds. Christians are called to be compassionate, wounded healers.

Perhaps, Henri Nouwen, the Roman Catholic theologian, has said this better than anyone else. The author of many books, Nouwen speaks of Christians as "wounded healers" who have compassion. 

Compassion is not pity. Pity lets us stay at a distance. It is condescending.
Compassion is not sympathy. Sympathy is for superiors over inferiors.
Compassion is not charity. Charity is for the rich to continue in their status over the poor.
Compassion is born of God. It means entering into the other person’s problems. It means taking on the burdens of the other. It means standing in the other person’s shoes. It is the opposite of professionalism. It is the humanizing way to deal with people. "Just as bread without love can bring war instead of peace, professionalism without compassion will turn forgiveness into a gimmick." 

Jesus was compassionate. He entered into fellowship with people. They knew that he knew how they felt. That’s the task of the healing community. The great illusion of leadership is to think that man can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there. The world needs wounded healers: 

Wounded healers - who suffer themselves;
Wounded healers - who are willing to pay the price of entering into others’ lives, instead of just giving advice;
Wounded healers - who are aware of the loneliness of suffering because they have been there;
Wounded healers - making their own wounds into a source of healing by helping people share;
Wounded healers - dividing and sharing the pain of others. 

"Wounds and pains can become openings and occasions for a new vision," Nouwen says.  The people who suffer long to be touched by people who really care, people with compassion, wounded healers.  Jesus was such a person.  We, the people called "Church," are called to be like him. 

We often ask new members to express what the church means to them. Recently, one new member wrote: "I feel an inner strength here at Our Saviour’s, a strength I need to get me through a week. The touch of tenderness and caring from this congregation gives me such a warm feeling. Someone really cares through a smile and a handshake." 

And a hug! Remember we all need ten hugs per day, just for maintenance. 

The church, a healing community? Yes, not all it should be; not all it ought to be for everyone, but a nuance of the kingdom here on earth because God is working through his people. 

Here is what Dr. Granger Westberg, while lecturing at the University of Arizona School of Medicine, said about the family of God called Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church: "This vital congregation epitomizes for me a health-giving, healing community of faith. I encourage medical students to look upon community churches as the real health agencies in every town. It is great to be able to point to Our Saviour’s just across the street from the hospital, as a model par excellence."    

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., Alone/Together, by Ron Lavin