She must have been desperate. Year after year it had gone on. Not only were the hemorrhages dangerous to her health, they made her a social outcast. She was not even welcome in the Temple. UNCLEAN, they said. She had tried everything. Doctors, of course, but all they had affected were her finances. She tried the recommendations of the Talmud which offered no fewer than eleven remedies - some of them were tonics and astringents, some just superstition like carrying the ashes of an ostrich egg in a linen rag in summer and a cotton rag in winter. (1) Nothing.

Now word had come that this itinerant rabbi of whom everyone had been speaking lately was nearby. With fear and trembling she gathered herself up and went out to see if this Jesus might help. Yes, it was risky. She would likely have to …