God's always "hooking us," pulling us back: back to the Word, back to the Meal, back to the Font...back to the community.

This blog is for the purpose of sharing around each Sunday's Bible readings & sermon at Shepherd of the Valley Lutheran Church.

Get Sunday's readings here. We follow the Narrative Lectionary.
(In the summer, we return to the Revised Common Lectionary' epistle or Second Reading here.)

So, what's been hooking you?

So, what's been hooking you?


Here you can...

Sunday, January 24, 2016

January 24 -- Daughters Healed



Grace to you and peace from the one who heals us and sends us forth in peace.  AMEN.

Jesus does heal us, you know.  I love these miracle stories at the beginning of Mark’s Gospel.

This is the 3rd or 4th healing miracle of Jesus that we’ve read in the last 3 weeks!  

In seminary, for a paper, I actually charted Jesus’ power potential as one moves through the book of Mark.  And here in Chapter 5, Jesus is at his peak!  Although this “power went out of him” when the woman touches his garment I think is significant.  It speaks to the kenosis of Jesus.  That is, the emptying of self, the total emptying of himself to be lifted up on the cross.  My graph, as I was trying to show, indicated that in Mark’s Gospel Jesus was completely empty by the end of the book, handing all power over.  These early miracles are foretastes of that:  Jesus giving everything up and over -- to God, yes.  But also to us, to those he loved, to the outcast and the unclean.  To the woman and girl in this story, you and me.  

Jesus does heal us, you know.  But let’s start with the story and then get on to you and me.  This is a fascinating healing sandwich we’ve got here.  Our story starts with one episode but then gets interrupted by a second demand for healing, as he makes his way to the first.  

Lots to reflect on there in terms of interruptions.  Jesus multi-tasking.  That might seem normal for us.  But for the 1st century Christians, this communicated loud and clear a very chaotic environment, one of confusion, fear and insecurity.  

And Jesus, in the midst of all that stops, when he senses this woman’s desperation.  He turns around, and rather than chastising and shaming her, which would have been a legal right of his, he instead calls her Daughter, praises her faithfulness, and invites her to go in peace.  That was radical.  But it took Jesus‘ stopping.  Turning.  “Who touched my robe?”     He heals more than just the bleeding in his stopping and turning to speak to her.

There’s a healing lesson and image for us here too: following the example of Jesus, we too, in the midst of the frenzy and fury, can stop.  Breathe.  Recognize the pain in our world and right under our noses.  Offer the gift of relationship, family status even!  Calling a stranger “Daughter, Son, Brother, Sister.”  And then offering a benediction of peace:  “Go your way.  Be at peace.”

Might our own healing come, as we offer healing and peace to others?  [pause]

Jesus does heal us, you know.  But let’s get back to the story.

After the woman who’s been hemorrhaging for 12 long years is suddenly healed and blessed by Jesus, he’s approached by the members of Jairus’ household sadly saying, “Cancel the order.  The 12-year-old is dead.  It’s too late.  Nevermind.”  [Pause]

Can you relate to them?  Ever been there?  Ever given up?  Or been too overwhelmed with bad news.  Had your hope shattered -- thought help was on the way, but now it’s too late?   Ever been like the members of Jairus’ household?  “Don’t trouble the teacher, it’s too late.”

Oh, but this is where God really gets in there and works, sisters and brothers in Christ!  Our God gets deep into our despair, our hopelessness, our pain of loss, our darkness, even death itself, and stirs.  [pause]

Quick image to interject from Rome, earlier this month:  our group of 12 went into the catacombs of Callixta one morning, my first experience of a catacomb.  And when we went down there, it was rainy, dark and cold outside.  Pretty miserable.  Got our tour, then communion.  And when we came back out, sunshine, warm.  I got this picture of the sun beaming into our exit tunnel.

God gets down into our death, our despair, our darkness, and when we emerge, there is light and warmth -- healing. 

“Little girl, get up!” “Little boy, get up!” 
Those are Christ words for you today, too.

Jesus does heal us, you know.  It might not always be the healing that we are praying for, God’s power might not always be (often isn’t always) manifested in the way we want it to be.  We all know that, all too well.  We pray for a cure, a miracle, a speedy recovery, a clean diagnosis, and we don’t always get what we asked God for, like they do in these stories.

But, Jesus does heal us, you know.  God stoops down into our muck, our darkness and despair, our shattered hope and lost joy...our catacombs.  And God works on us there.  The Holy Spirit stirs there.  Christ doesn’t leave us there, but only gets closer to us there.  Like having communion -- the Lord’s holiest meal of bread and wine, body and blood, community, hope and joy -- in a place of so much death and burial.
Jesus does heal you this day, sisters and brothers in Christ.  Jesus comes along side you, Jesus lets you touch the edge of his cloak too, praises you for your faith, lifts you up (even in your death!), and sends you on your way in peace.  

That doesn’t just happen when after we take our last breath on this earth, sisters and brothers in Christ.  That happens today!  

Know that God is with you.  Know that Christ has emptied himself for you, offered even you power and healing.  And now peace amid all the chaos, now that you have been lifted, even as you continue to cough or itch or ache or lay up in bed.  

Jesus does heal us this day.  Because we don’t have to be afraid anymore: we have one another in the bond we share in baptism, and we have a God who never leaves us, who is in touch with us, and who only moves closer when we’re in pain.  

Jesus does heal us this day.  Because we don’t have to be afraid any more.  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.

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