Sunday, December 14, 2014

Beholding Hope



Psalm 33:13-22; Mark 5:25-34
The 3rd Sunday in Advent 2014


            She was ignored, as if utterly unseen.   Thoroughly unclean and impure in the eyes of her society.   Diseased.   She’d placed a lot of faith in the physicians of her day.  But they’d all come and gone, unable to stem the tide causing her such constant physical, emotional and social suffering.  Twelve years of it.   4, 380 horrible days of hemorrhaging.   No hope to behold anywhere.      
            Until, that is, she one day heard a word.   A word about Jesus of Nazareth.   His name had been sounded out around her town with all the buzz of a beehive.   This one of kind holy healer and teacher was flowing into her neighborhood.  
            How could she … how dare she … get his attention?   Even at a point of last resort, she was too embarrassed of her cruddy condition to openly cry out to Him.   And she was quite aware of the logistics of getting through the great crowds pressing in all around him.   Sheer desperation and a determined faith in this man’s reputation, however, prompted her to stealthily give it a go.    Wonder of wonders, like the Red Sea parting, a channel opened up. She managed to slip in and simply reach out, believing just a touch of a tassel on His rabbinical robe would restore her health.    
            Her faith bore good fruit.  A miraculous healing happened!   Her joyful astonishment, however, quickly came to an awkward halt.   Before she had had a chance to slip away from the scene, Jesus called her out.  Her stealthy touch had not gone unnoticed.  He stopped, looked around, inquired.   He insisted on publically identifying the person who’d tapped into His healing power.  
            Before the encounter, she would have felt mortified.    But the incredibly spiritual experience had emboldened and engrafted her to Jesus.   She no longer felt invisible.   So she stepped forward, fell prostate at his feet, and humbly spoke up.  She confessed, “It was me!  I did it!  I beheld you near me, slipped in through the crowd that has so long despised me, hoping to touch even just a thread of your holiness.” 
            This reverent admission deeply pleased Jesus.   He turned and blessed her in the presence of all the people who’d previously been disgusted by her.   He praised her simple and faithful act of reaching out, of believing in God’s saving grace smack in the midst of her suffering and social estrangement.   He let it be known that she was a beautiful child of God, whose faith had helped to make her well.
            At the start of our Advent journey together this year, we remembered that the light of salvation shines brightest when we acknowledge all the darkness within and around us.    Last week, we moved on to asking ourselves if there is room in our hearts to welcome a new arrival of our Emmanuel.  Today both of my previous messages come together as we meet this remarkable woman from the 5th chapter of Mark’s Gospel.  
            She is an inspiration for the ages!  She is truly an ambassador of Advent, of waiting to behold and to be held by the Light of Christ.    The Bethlehem in her heart gladly made room.  And not in any kind of institutionalized or ritualized way.   She hadn’t been socially allowed to express her faith in those ways.   It was a blessing that Jesus hadn’t been standing still in a stone sanctuary waiting for the next person to come before him with a prayerful petition.  He’d been bustling about amidst the big and curious crowds when He did not fail to notice that ever so slight finger-tip touch upon the tassels.  
            The power of this woman’s witness to us is summed up well by the Bible scholar Tom Wright when he wrote that her action highlights “the intimate nature of the contact between the individual and Jesus that Mark expects and hopes his readers to develop for themselves.  When life crowds in with all its pressures, there is still room for us to creep up behind Jesus – if that’s all we feel we can do – and reach out to touch him, in that odd mixture of fear and faith that characterizes so much Christian discipleship.”[i]
            As I was studying this passage, I wondered exactly what Mark meant by the word “touch.”  I naturally assumed the Greek word he used was a reference to physical contact, but I also wondered if there was any more significant or symbolic shade of meaning.   I especially wondered this as I contemplated what might have become of this woman’s life after that healing encounter.    We aren’t told the impact of this amazing physical and social restoration.    Did she go about rebuilding her life, fondly remembering that miraculous moment with Jesus, but otherwise not taking time to continue following, serving and worshipping Him?  Or did she become a devout evangelist, making herself seen and heard in all the places where people had unabashedly shunned her?   Or perhaps she went on to live a quiet life of humble devotion to her Savior?
             The Greek word Mark used to reference this woman’s touching of Jesus robe is indeed telling.    It can be translated as “to fasten or adhere.”    So when she reached out through the crowd, it wasn’t just for some quick healing connection.   It wasn’t just to get something personally beneficial out of Jesus.   Mark tells us it was an act of fully adhering her life to the Lord.  This healing was not just a restoration, it was a total reorientation!   Through hearing about, beholding, and reaching for Jesus, this child of God was forever and firmly fastened to Jesus.   
            And I also believe Mark – who was a ministry partner of both Peter and Paul -- wants us to know that this helped spread the Good News.   My favorite part of studying the ancient word we translate as “touch” is that it can also be interpreted to refer to as to kindle a fire.    All throughout the Bible, reference to fire is about divine revelation.   It speaks to how God, through the Holy Spirit, actively refines and refuels human faith.   By beholding the Light of Christ shining in our darkness, faithfully adhering all of our lives to it, and bearing witness, we each become blazing beacons of holy hope and healing!
            For the sermon on the 28th of this month, I’ll will be showing and leading discussion about a video called “Ed’s Story.”    It’s the story of Pastor Ed Dobson (no relation to James Dobson).    The heart of that story I’ll save for then.   But for today, let me introduce Ed just a bit as I find him to also be an inspirational Advent ambassador.
            For many years, he was a nationally known fundamentalist preacher hitched to the wagon of Jerry Falwell.   Over time, however, he became disillusioned with the Christian Right’s train of thought.    He moved on to pastor a mega-church in Grand Rapids, Michigan (as a quick side note, it was during that time he became a mentor to Rob Bell, who has influenced me).
              In 2001, Ed was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease).   Physicians predicted he’d have two to five years of life left, most of which he would spend suffering through disabilities.   Shortly after receiving this diagnosis, he reached out hoping to connect with people who deeply believed in prayer and holy healing.   One person who responded was a Pentecostal preacher.    Here’s what Ed had to say about their time together –
            “It was one of the most moving evenings of my entire life. He began by telling stories of people he had prayed for who were miraculously healed. He also told stories about people he had prayed for who were not healed and had passed away, receiving that ultimate and final healing.”    Before this fellow preacher prayed for Ed, he offered some inspirational advice.  He said, “Don’t become obsessed with getting healed … If you [do], you will lose your focus.”   Then he advised Ed on what to keep focused on – “Get lost in the wonder of God, and who knows what he will do for you.”[ii]   
            How do you need healing today?   Expect and behold the wonder of Jesus, God with us.  Reach out and adhere your whole self to Him.   Your faith will bring blessing and well-being.   Amen.

           

           

           
           
           



[i]
[ii] Ed Dobson, Seeing through the Fog (David C. Cook, 2012), page 110

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