“To Touch the Hem of His Garment”  (Mark 5:21-43, Psalm 130)

Our Psalm this morning shows us a person crying out for something that is needed, so deeply longed for, but is not yet there.  The Psalmist is waiting, watching, hoping for something, reaching for something, we’re not just sure what has put the writer “in the depths” of despair, but something is NOT right and the person is reaching out from their depths to God asking for help.   With the Psalm, we don’t know what happens next, but we do hear the hope that is there in the heart of the Psalmist.  He is watching for God’s steadfast love with the power to redeem.  “More than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning.” 

Our New Testament passage shows us two people who were also call out from the depths of their despair, seeking something that money could not buy.  Mark shows us two people whose lives felt broken, and were touched and changed by Jesus. 

In our reading we meet Jairus, the leader of a local synagogue, and a woman– who had been suffering with bleeding for twelve years.  These two lived in the same area, but they certainly would not have run in the same circles, and surely they could not have been more different from one another.  What they do have in common is that they are in some way “not whole” and are in need of the healing touch of Jesus.  I’d like to consider these two, their approach to Jesus, and how Jesus meets each of them.

The leader of the synagogue, Jairus, would have been a man of influence within his town.  His position in the temple would make him a pillar of the community.  He had a lot riding on the status quo in society, he enjoyed a great number of privileges that came from his role as chief priest.  The priestly role was passed down in families, so his name would have been one of honor.  His family would be one of prestige and wealth.  Priests had a great deal of education.  He has everything, and yet it seems he is powerless to do anything for his precious daughter.

And the woman is not even named in our story.  We do know that she had spent all that she had on physicians, and with her condition of bleeding she would bear many shames of being “unclean” and an outcast in the culture.  She would be confined to her house and even from physical contact with her family.  Anyone who touches her also becomes unclean for a time.  Her problem is chronic, things look pretty desperate, in many ways she may feel that she has nothing to lose, for she has nothing.

Jairus he is part of the ruling class, those with prestige and authority, the very ones who have been harassing Jesus and belittling him for disobeying religious law.  But now, the leader is like the common folk.  He is a man in need, a father whose little girl is dying … a finite human being who grasps for divine power to heal and make his daughter whole.  He approached Jesus very directly and boldly.  He went right up to him on the street, stopped him and begged for assistance.  He risks his status, his way of life, his reputation by reaching out to Jesus and begging for help.  Such was the depth of his loss.  My little daughter is everything to me please help!  It would seem fitting and appropriate to those with Jesus that he would stop and respond to this leader.  He is the highest local religious authority, so it would be proper for the Christ to respond.  Jesus did not react to him because of his position, it was his faith and willingness to risk, that made the difference.

And the woman risks her very life by challenging the rules as she goes out in to the crowds and makes contact with Jesus.  The woman who has been hemorrhaging for twelve years is, in this story, a symbol of all the outcasts, all the marginal people who are outside the social and economic power structure of the day.  She is not even named in our story As a bleeding woman, she is-by Hebrew law-untouchable, and any man who touches her is himself rendered unclean.  She would be confined to her house and even from physical contact with her family.  But Jesus stops, receives her touch, healing her and restoring her to wholeness-both as an individual, and in relationship with those around her.

This woman risks her very life by challenging the rules as she goes out in to the crowds and makes contact with Jesus.  Notice how she approaches Jesus by coming up in the crowd, from behind and only desiring the chance to touch his garment, not talk to him, not even look him in the face, but simply touch his clothing.  That would be enough.  How many of us have suffered silently longing for a cure of the body or of the spirit, longing only to touch the garment of Jesus? 

I’d invite you to pick up the piece of fabric in the pews in front of you and simply hold it.  Feel the textures and notice theintricate weave.  Think about the complex threads of our own lives and the frayed edges, the places that feel like they are coming apart, as well as the places that are tightly holding together.  What areas of our lives long to be touched by the garment of Christ?  What do we wish could be cured?

The Greek word for cure means “the repair of a fractured soul.” In what ways are our souls fractured?  In order for there to be healing we must first recognize and acknowledge what’s not right.  Without the recognition of need, without knowing what takes us into the depths, there is no place for Grace.  As we become aware of our own areas of need, we then are open to the presence of God’s Grace, and can sing with the psalmist “rejoice in theLord, Praise the Lord, sing a new song!”

From this brief sketch, we see how these two were each different, but they do share in common, a real sense of loss.  Neither of them are confined by what is, to keep them from hoping for what may yet be.  They have open minds, and eyes of faith that, in the right moment, can see in Jesus possibilities that are radically new.  And they are willing to risk everything for the healing touch.  Without hesitation, Jesus responds, tending to the outcast, and the socially powerful with exactly the same healing and unconditional love.  This is the kind of response Jesus that gives to each one of us, no matter how “important’ or “unimportant” we might feel.  This is the kind of response Jesus gives to us, if we are able to name and own our need, if we are able to admit that we are dependent upon the grace of God.

For all of us, Jesus enters our world.  Our Savior finds a way to reach out and encounter us today, and we can reach out to God.  We are to take therisk of that encounter, to extend our selves toward Christ and to respond when we experience God’s presence and call in our lives.  Jesus shows us that the sufferings of others are not to be disregarded.  We are not insulated and isolated from the lives of others.  The temptation to turn away from other’s suffering is strong, the tendency to deny the reality of pain comes quickly.

While we can not bear the cross for others we can help them carry it.  When we spend time comforting someone with a broken heart, we are doing the work of Jesus.  We are part of the garment.  We may not have had the experience of pain we see in another but we can feel a part of the loss of others.  We help those in need by offering a sense of being connected to something larger than themselves and maintaining a sense of community. 

We offer healing when we hold a hand, wipe a tear, or share a hug.  We are part of the healing garment.  And others can be part of the garment for us.  May we have the strength to ask for help when we need it, give comfort when we are able, and trust that the steadfast love of God will make us all whole.   Amen.