The Rev. Kristin Krantz, St. James’, Mt. Airy
June 27, 2021, Pentecost 5/Proper 8B
Psalm 130, 2 Corinthians 8:7-15. Mark 5:21-43
Gracious God, take our minds and think through them; take our hands and work through them;
take our hearts and set them on fire. Amen.
Mark is the shortest of our gospels. The writing style is brief and to the point – the writer makes every word count. One way that they do this is by frequently composing stories in a “sandwich” form, nesting one episode inside of another.
This strategy has at least three primary effects: first, it ratchets up the suspense, as one cliffhanger pauses while we turn to another; second, each story throws light on the other, like a diptych with two images side-by-side; and third, the two stories together create a more-than-the-sum-of-their-parts unity. [1]
In fact, Mark’s artistry is such that we should try resist thinking in terms of “two stories.” As today’s gospel reading demonstrates, there is really one story here – and it is a profound story about the power of faith and a reminder of God’s abundant mercy.
Before we delve too deeply into today’s passage though, let’s back up for a moment. Last Sunday we heard the story of Jesus calming the stormy sea. In between that story and today’s verses Jesus healed a Gentile man in Gentile territory – crossing both physical and cultural barriers.
That barrier-crossing character of his ministry continues today as he dismantles at least two other kinds of barriers: one between “clean” and “unclean,” and the other between life and death.[2]
Of note here is something Mark’s early audiences would have known about purity practices recorded in scripture: menstruating women were allegedly “unclean” (Leviticus 12:1-8; 15:19-30), as were corpses (Numbers 19:11-13), such that anyone and anything they touched also became “unclean.”
That is important context for today’s gospel, where we begin with a Jewish leader of the local synagogue named Jairus who sought out Jesus to ask him to heal his daughter. Finding him by the sea, fresh from his journey back across, he said to him,“My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.”
The underlying word Jairus used here, translated as “be made well,” is the Greek word sozo. Sozo can also be translated as “save,” “heal,” “preserve,” or “rescue.” It appears repeatedly in this passage, blurring the distinction between “salvation” and health,” “saving” and thriving.”[3]
And so Jesus began to follow Jairus to his home, and as they went a large crowd gathered alongside them, creating the scene for the next part of the story.
We are told that a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years pushed through the crowd in the hopes of touching Jesus’ robe. The fact that we are told she had “endured much under many physicians” suggests she was at one time a woman of some wealth and status. However, after so long begin “unclean” she had become an outcast in her community.
I have to tell you, this is one of my favorite stories in scripture – and specifically Mark’s version of this story. This woman’s perseverance and audacity, not to mention her faith, is striking.
She pushed through the crowd, disobeying the ancient scriptural prohibitions, and then audaciously touched a Holy Teacher without his permission.[4]
Yet her faith told her to cross those barriers, and she daringly did. Upon touching Jesus’ clothes, her hemorrhage immediately stopped, and she was healed.
What’s interesting here is Jesus’ response. At her touch, Mark records that he was immediately aware that power had gone forth from him and he stopped his journey and began to search for the one who had been healed. “Who touched my clothes?”
It’s a silly question really, he was in the middle of a jostling crowd, as his disciples pointed out. But this faith-filled woman again stepped forward, this time to tell her story. And though one might assume anger on Jesus’ part, she had just made him ritually unclean. Instead he responded thusly: “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
Again we hear that word sozo, “be made well,” and then he sends her in peace healed and able to be restored to full life in community. Yet what makes this story so astonishing is that Jesus drew attention not to his power, but to hers as the agent of healing – it was her faith that saved her.
It was at that very moment that Jairus received the news that his daughter had died. As others counselled him to let Jesus go on his way, Jesus himself turned to Jairus and said, “Do not fear, only believe.”
Because of what has just happened, the choreography is clear; it’s as if Jesus said to Jairus, “Look, this woman has just shown you what genuine faith looks like: audacious, daring, persistent trust in God. No barrier can constrain God’s graceful mercy. Even the barrier between life and death, in the end, can and will be overcome.”[5]
And indeed, even that last barrier, between life and death, was crossed. Jesus continued on to Jairus’ house, took the dead girl’s hand in his, again being ritually defiled according to the ancient scriptures, and called her to rise. Immediately she got up and everyone was overcome with amazement.
Faith in these two stories, that are really only one story, is cast as a form of barrier-crossing courage, daring, and persistence. It is a counterpoint to the expansive healing, saving, barrier-crossing ministry of Jesus as presented in the Mark’s gospel.
Faith like that has the power to restore people to fullness of life when it is met with God’s abiding love.
And here’s the take-away for us: faith that heals is about so much more than being cured.
Remember the wide range of meanings of that word sozo – from salvation to health to resurrection to thriving, to restoration to community. Healing comes in many different forms: physical, emotional, social, and otherwise.[6]
God is always ready to meet our faith with merciful healing. We have only to be like Jairus and seek out God. We have only to be like the woman with the hemorrhage and reach out to God. Because when we do, God meets us and brings us new life beyond our wildest imaginings – crossing every barrier we know to make us whole, and wholly God’s. Amen.
[1] SaltProject’s Lectionary Commentary for the Fifth Week After Pentecost.
[2] SaltProject’s Lectionary Commentary for the Fifth Week After Pentecost.
[3] SaltProject’s Lectionary Commentary for the Fifth Week After Pentecost.
[4] SaltProject’s Lectionary Commentary for the Fifth Week After Pentecost.
[5] SaltProject’s Lectionary Commentary for the Fifth Week After Pentecost.
[6] SaltProject’s Lectionary Commentary for the Fifth Week After Pentecost.