How many people touch you in a day? Is it too many or not enough? How many are deliberate and how many are inconsequential? On the flip side, how many times do you touch someone else? Do you think about it or is it mindless? How much does it really matter? Think about it for a minute.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last few weeks. Since I read the words “who touched me?” I have been haunted by this seemingly insignificant woman who wanted so desperately just to t-o-u-c-h Jesus. She didn’t want to speak to Him. She didn’t dare dream He would touch her. She didn’t even expect His attention. She just wanted the faintest brush of the edge of his clothes. There is something about this that breaks my heart. The scripture tells us there were so many people who crowded around Jesus clambering for His attention that He often missed sleep and skipped meals to attend to them. What was there about this woman that made her stop at just touching the hem of his cloak? Was this just great faith? Was it a feeling of unworthiness? Or was there something else?
This question has haunted me. Who was this woman? We don’t know much about her. We don’t even know her name, but she was a real woman – a desperate woman – a hurting woman. I have been so haunted by her and her story that I have found myself trying to visualize her. We know that she was a woman in an era when women were governed by a different set of rules and regulations. It would not have been acceptable for her to initiate a conversation with Jesus. She would have had to have had a man bring her into His presence, but she appears to be all alone in these scriptures. Why? Contrast this with the lame man whose friends carried him to Jesus and lowered him through a hole in roof to get him front and center. Where were this woman’s friends? Contrast her to the father a few verses later who came and pleaded with Jesus to come and heal his daughter. Where was her family? Perhaps this is one of the things that breaks my heart the most. She appears to be all alone. Based on the Jewish laws of her time her affliction would naturally have cut her off from society for the 12 years prior to this incident. She would have been considered unclean and, therefore, expected to keep herself isolated. Her very affliction probably meant she may not have had children. We don’t know her age. I am no Biblical scholar by any stretch. These are merely my observations, but the woman I see in my imagination is a physically ill woman who has lived a life of seclusion and loneliness for over a decade. She is, therefore, desperate not only for physical healing but for physical contact. To me touching the hem of Jesus’ cloak was a pitiful sign that she did not feel she was worthy of doing more, but to her it was probably glorious. It may have been the most physical contact she had had in longer than she could remember.
And then the unbelievable happened. Jesus stopped. And I imagine her heart did, too.
“Who touched me?” he asked. Can you imagine the fear that must have flooded her soul in that second? She needn’t have worried, however, for Jesus wasn’t motivated to ridicule or shame her. On the contrary, He wanted to publicly and openly acknowledge to her and to all who were there that she was not an insignificant outcast but a beautiful, precious, valuable daughter of the King. Can you see His strong but gentle hand reach down and help her up as He healed her both physically and spiritually, changing her life forever? Can you just feel the emotions that ran through her - from desperate misery to abject fear and humiliation to indescribable joy with one touch? What power! What love!
What an amazing story this nameless woman has, but as real as she was, there is nothing I can do for her now. So what relevance can these verses possibly have for me? Oh, because it is here, in the application, that I find the true source of my pain. The woman may not be here with us any longer, but the precept most definitely is. There are people around us we come in contact with everyday who, for whatever reason, feel they are unworthy of God’s attention much less His love. Why? Too often I am afraid it is because they have violated society’s little man-made rules for acceptance, and they have locked themselves away in a self-imposed life of isolation. I have become convicted that, as a child of God, it is my responsibility to be that hand that reaches down to them and shows them that they truly are worthy and valuable in the eyes of God – to show them His unconditional love and acceptance. God does not care the color of their skin. He does not care what mistakes they may have made in their past. He does not care if they live in poverty or wealth. He died for everyone – that ALL should have life and have it abundantly.
Lord, open my heart that I may sense those who are hurting and isolated. Lord, open my eyes that I might see those who are reaching out to touch the hem of your garment. Give me compassion, wisdom, and boldness.
Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment