We were taught in seminary to read between the lines and behind the words of the gospels. Quite often Scripture holds a deeper message for us, but we sometimes miss it because we’re overly preoccupied with the small picture. In other words, what was happening to people, right then, in that moment, instead of considering the bigger picture. Here’s an example of what I mean. Have you ever noticed that many of the narratives about Jesus begin with him crossing the sea.
Now, on the surface, we can view these crossings as kind of a bridge between stories. This happened, they got in a boat, crossed the lake and then that happened, right? But what if we were to look in-between the words? What if we were to look behind the obvious meaning and search for clues to a deeper understanding? For instance, what might it mean that one side of the lake was Jewish territory, and the other Gentile? Can you feel the tension and the risk, even danger, in going somewhere less hospitable, less comfortable, less safe? If you were a first-century Jewish Christian, would you have needed anyone to set the scene for you? Probably not, you would have felt the tension as you listened to the story.
And the same is true in our time. Think about border a crossing into North Korea or Syria or Iran today: consider the danger such a crossing would hold and the international crises it would provoke. And what about the border crossings during this most recent immigration crisis? What tension might these refugees from Central America be feeling?
Well, it’s this same kind of tension that we find in-between and behind the content of Mark’s Gospel. A tension between words and action. You see, Jesus was not just telling people what the Kingdom of God looked like, he demonstrated how we might live and love and serve God and neighbor in light of, or because of, the present Kingdom or Reign of God. And this understand of the Reign of God leads us to the deeper theme that runs in-between and behind the words found in this passage. And that theme is the tension between faith and fear. In other words, is the faith of the characters in Mark’s narrative, and by extension our faith, strong? Or has it been overcome by fear, or confusion, or hard-headedness, or maybe even hard-heartedness?”[i]
Our text for this week hinges on this tension between faith and fear. The tension between the faith of the woman with the hemorrhage as she touched the hem of Jesus’ robe and her fear of retribution for breaking the law by touching him or her fear of being disconnected from her community forever. As well as, the tension between the faith of a desperate father, Jairus, and his fear of losing his daughter; the fear of death.
You know, there’s often a tension between faith and fear in the Bible because the Bible reflects the real-life tensions and the real-life experiences of God felt by its many, many authors. That’s why this ancient collection of books still speaks so loudly to us today. It’s a reflection of the real-life tension we feel between our faith and our fears as well.
Now, contextually speaking, what we have here is a “story-within-a-story.” This was a common literary technique of that time. “Framing” is the term we use today. So, how does framing work and why is this important? Well, an author “frames” one story with another to create a link between the two; A bond if you will. A bond between characters who are often polar opposites. And two framed stories we’re looking at today are no exception.
Consider that the woman was probably on the lowest rung of the social ladder. She was a woman, unclean according to Jewish law, and a social outcast. The little girl however, was the daughter of a religious leader. She would have had a comfortable life; a privileged life. But that’s where the differences end. Mark is careful here to make sure we understand that these two women in crisis were both “daughters” of Abraham. He accomplishes this by linking them through the use of the number twelve. The woman with the hemorrhage has been bleeding for twelve years and the little girl was twelve years-old. He makes this connection because he wants us to see that Jesus doesn’t make a distinction between them based upon their social standing. He heals them both. As a matter of fact, he pauses on his way to heal the privileged one to heal the outcast.
And this is where the faith over fear part comes in. In this passage. Jesus chose to ignore the taboos surrounding uncleanliness brought about by blood and death, and he provide a healing touch to both of these women. He chose to practice the law of grace rather that adhere to the letter of the law. Jesus touched these suffering souls even though tradition forbade it. He didn’t let fear keep him from doing a just and faith act.
So, what does this mean for us? Where might we as individuals, as a faith community, and as a nation become providers of a healing touch? How might our faith overcome the fear of crossing the boundries society has laid down?
My friends, as we celebrate our independence this weekend, I invite you to pause and consider what it really means to be “patriotic.” Does patriotism mean wearing red, white, and blue to the fireworks; or cooking brats on the pontoon boat; or waving a flag at the parade? I would say that’s a part of it. But can patriotism be something more?
As we celebrate this week, maybe each of us could spend a little of our time trying to figure out way to live-into the final words of our pledge of allegiance: “…with liberty and justice for all.” I mean, what if “liberty and justice for all” were to become exactly that; liberty and justice for all people. Perhaps, we should take these words to heart and focus our energy and our means on bringing this ideal to light. The American ideal that all people were created equal by God and that all people deserve the same opportunities, the same respect, the same life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness, no matter how long they’ve been here, the color of their skin, or what religion they choose to practice.
Now, it’s an American ideal that, frankly, has faltered in the past and continues to be under attack today. But it’s an ideal that worth refreshing and refining. And as we’ve seen in today’s text, liberty and justice for all is the very foundation of Christ’s mission of healing; His ministry of restoration.
My friends, as we continue to evolve as individuals, and grow as (St. Paul) (Cable) United Church of Christ, and progress as a nation, may we learn the art of reading in-between and behind the challenges present in this world. Might we take a step back and look at the bigger picture, and then act. Act to make this world a better and more just place for all people.
Happy 4th of July to all of you and may all your crossings be smooth.