Changing Touch

Canada Day, July 1, 2012 (also Pentecost 5a – Mark 5:21-43

Introduction to the text.  It feels like sometimes we are all being pressed together – collectively, literally. There is so little time, so little space. I think of a bumper sticker I saw years ago: I owe, I owe so off to work I go.  When confronted with such reality, it is tempting first to think that much if not all somehow depends on us. Such thinking leads to a frenetic pace of life. Does everything depend on us?

Things can and do happen to us, or those around us. Jairus , a leader of the synagogue, one whom many respected has been blessed with a daughter. But his daughter is dying.  She is only 12 years old. So Jairus approaches Jesus falling down at his feet, begging him to come and see, to come and touch his daughter. Oh, Lord MAKE her well.

 

There is another person approaching Jesus. This is a woman, perhaps once a person of means, but who now experiences a continual flow of blood. She has tried everything, expended all her financial resources, attempting to get better BUT NOTHING. Now this woman is alone – even gathered is pressing around Jesus. She dares to cross the boundaries. She just WANTS TO, she NEEDS TO TOUCH HIS CLOTHING.  So, she wends her way through the pressing crowd to reach out and touches just a fragment of his garment. She is desperate.

 

How about you? Are you self sufficient? Are you OK? Take an inventory. How is it going for you at church? How is it going for you in your families? How is it going for you with co workers? How is it going in this country? How is it going in this world? How is it going with you and God? Really.

 

Sometimes I'm desperate. Sitting beside my mother's bed while she is writhing in pain that will not be touched by drugs. Watching people whom I know and love not survive in their marriage or be closed to receiving and extended the love and forgiveness of God. Sometimes I have been desperate as I have watched people I love die, people of faith and integrity and wondered, how are those who are left behind going to survive without them, their father, their mother, their son or daughter, their neighbor or friend?  

 

At times I'm desperate when my own faith, my trust of God ebbs and flows as in the sight of poverty, addiction replicating and claiming myriads of people. The ocean of despair and violence is deep.  Sometimes I'm desperate when as communities of faith we don't seem to be able to attract people to educational events that will help us all grow beyond a faith that borders on the magical: simplistic at best, idolatrous at worst.

 

I wonder - are you ever desperate?

 

Observe the actions of the leader of the synagogue and the woman of the flow of blood as they act out of their desperation. They approach Jesus. What others think of them is ultimately irrelevant. They know that they are not self sufficient, that they need help. So Jairus begs. The woman actually touches Jesus.

 

Jesus responds. He relates to each of them uniquely. He is on his way to Jairus' daughter when the woman touches his clothing. He asks who has touched him. The disciples momentarily deride him... What  joke, with all these people pressing in, who touched him! But Jesus is focused.  Who has touched him? The woman comes forward, falling before him telling him her whole truth. What a response Jesus gives her. DAUGHTER (what sweet words!). Your faith has made you whole – go in peace. Be healed of your disease.

 

Do we dare to tell Jesus our whole truth - our thoughts, our feelings, the way we have and haven't related to others, to ourselves, to the creation, to Him? It might not hurt us to fall down before him and tell him everything. We too need to be made whole.

 

But do not forget Jairus' daughter. Messengers arrive. She has died. Don't trouble the "teacher" anymore. But Jesus addresses Jairus. Don't be afraid. Focus on believing, that is in trusting Jesus. Such advice. Not easy to do! But off they go. The crowd is still pressing. Many of them are laughing at Jesus. Jesus says that her dying is not a death that lasts but only "sleeping". He goes into the child's room, takes her by the hand and exhorts her to get up. And she does- get up.

 

Would we be touched by Jesus? Is this even possible? To be raised from whatever despair we are in? To have new life now? To be fed/nurtured by God, Him/Herself?  

 

Now I am aware – that not everyone is cured – from literal physical death – from ongoing chronic illness. BUT – I am also aware that even as this text proclaims, God in Jesus the Christ reaches  is present with us. He is open to dialogue with us – to touching and being touched.

 

I am no so sure exactly how this works. But there are times. I once knew Peter. In his early 70's he was diagnosed with a tumour. When the surgeon went into explore it, the tumor was gone. The surgeon had no explanation. Peter... lived another 7 years after that disappearing diagnosis, until his grandbabies had all grown – until they were around his bed as he died in peace.

 

You see we are not self sufficient. As hard as this reality is, it is also leads to very good news. We are not God.  But this Jesus, this God in the flesh, is by God's grace approachable and approaching. Often, through the Spirit this suffering and risen Christ approaches us and touches us, bringing us new life here and now in the midst of our despair. Do we see that? Are we open to such a touch? God help us.

 

I will close with a clipping from an anonymous congregational newsletter dated 1980.

"What is all this touching in church? It used to be a person would to church and sit in the pew and not be bothered by all this friendliness and certainly not by touching. I used to come to church and leave untouched. Now I have to be nervous about what is expected of me. I have to worry about responding to the person sitting next to me. Oh, I wish it could the way it used to be; I could just ask the person next to me: How are you? And the person could answer: Oh, just fine, And we'd both go home . . . strangers who have known each other for twenty years.

But now the minister asks us to look at each other. I'm worried about that hurt look I saw in that woman's eyes. Now I'm concerned, because when the minister asks us to pass the peace, The man next to me held my hand so tightly I wondered if he had been touched in years. Now I'm upset because the lady next to me cried and then apologized and said it was because I was so kind and that she needed a friend right now. Now I have to get involved. Now I have to suffer when this community suffers. Now I have to be more than a person coming to observe a service. That man last week told me I'd never know how much I'd touched his life. All I did was smile and tell him I understood what it was to be lonely. Lord, I'm not big enough to touch and be touched! The stretching scares me. What if I disappoint somebody? What if I'm too pushy? What if I cling too much? What if somebody ignores me? "Pass the peace." "The peace of God be with you." "And with you." And mean it.

Lord, I can't resist meaning it! I'm touched by it, I'm enveloped by it! I find I do care about that person next to me! I find I am involved! And I'm scared. O Lord, be here beside me. You touch me, Lord, so that I can touch and be touched! So that I can care and be cared for! So that I can share my life with all those others that belong to you! All this touching in church – Lord, it's changing me!

Amen.