Sermon for 6/28/09
Pentecost +4, Proper 8B, Ordinary 13
Mark 5:21-43; Psalm 30
"Go in Peace"
So often when we hear "Peace" in our culture, I believe we often hear "absence of conflict" or we associate it with the 1960s and 70s, Woodstock, and Flower children. Maybe you hear John Lennon telling us to "Give Peace a Chance." It's commonly used in various capacities, so much so that I think we sometimes forget the power that the word really has. Peace means so much more than just absence of war or lack of conflict. We hear Jesus bidding the woman in today's Scripture passage to "Go in Peace." Jesus is referring to Shalom, the Hebrew word translated as peace. Shalom is peace in a holistic sense that is much broader than many of us likely imagine. The peace that the woman is given literally changes her whole world, and her life would never be the same. But to better understand how her life changed, it might be best to let her tell her own story.
[Sermon continues in 1st person w/ shawl wrapped over shoulders as 'Hannah']
"Shalom. Thank you for letting me speak. My story is so remarkable, I must continue telling it. I cannot help but share the good news of my being made well. You see, I am the woman who bled for 12 years straight. Well, I was her. Now I am Hannah, and my story is a miracle. Before I was a nobody, but now I am someone with a name and a future and hope. It all starts over 12 years ago when my illness began. And if it wasn't bad enough, it just kept going. I went to physicians, priests, healers, medicine men, just about anyone in this whole region who claimed to heal. I kept going to these doctors until I had no more money to spend. I was broke. My illness ruined my life.
Living in a Jewish town in a Jewish region, everyone was Jewish. Everyone lived by the Torah. Everyone knew the laws about cleanliness, everyone including me. I have heard many teachings on Leviticus and what is clean and unclean (Leviticus 15). I also knew how to perform the needed sacrifices and washing to become clean after the bleeding was over. But it never ended, at least until that one remarkable day when everything changed. You see because of the bleeding, I was unclean. No one could come near me. No one would come near me. Even being around me at all would render them unclean as well. No one would have anything to do with me. Not my friends, not my family, not the merchants in the marketplace. I was an outcast. It was like being a leper. So like I said, I tried everything. I visited everyone I could find until I was penniless and homeless. My family abandoned me, and I was left living on the street.
Once I become of marrying age, no one would even consider me. They wouldn't come near me, much less ask me to marry them--are you kidding. I was cursed. No husband meant no children. No children meant no legacy. Without heirs I would continue to be poor and destitute, because I would have no children to care for me later in life. I was worthless. I was hopeless. I had no power and no means to help myself. Being someone's daughter or wife or mother allowed me to have power that I couldn't have on my own. Without a husband or son, I couldn't think about owning property or having future income.
And then there's my spiritual life. I longed to be allowed back in the outer courts of the temple where the other women gathered. I longed to bring my sacrifices to the priest to be deemed clean and well. I had faith and my faith endured, but it was certainly challenged. I clung to the verses I remembered from childhood. "Sing praises to the Lord, and give thanks to his holy name." I knew my weeping would only last for a night and joy would come in the morning, but I waited so long to see the dawn. Now, finally, I can proclaim with my loudest voice, God has turned my mourning into dancing; God has taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever" (referencing Psalm 30). Hallelujah, Praise the Lord!
Yes, my faith wavered, but it never failed. So that's what led me into the crowd that one day when I heard Jesus was in town. This new rabbi was well known in my region because of the miracles he had done. Just before my encounter he had calmed the waves on the sea and made the demons leave the man. Despite his disciples' best efforts, word still spread about the wonders Jesus did. He brought peace to these people, and he did the same for me. That day, I remember hearing that he was coming, so I decided that I had to go see him. I knew that my being in the crowd was problematic, being unclean, but I could not stop myself. He was my last resort. Everyone else had tried and failed, and the stories about this Jesus were almost too good to be true. I remembered the words from the prophet Malachi (Malachi 4:2) that some rabbis interpreted that even the Messiah's robe would bring healing, so I thought surely I can get close enough to touch his robe. "If I but touch his clothes, I would be made well" (Mark 5:28).
I didn't mean to interrupt him that day. Jesus was busy and was needed at Jarius' home because his daughter was ill. I had heard the commotion at this synagogue official's house and time was running short. I was a nobody, so how dare I interrupt him. There were so many people surrounding him, I thought there would be no way he would notice my light touch on the tassel of his rob given all the hands reaching out to him. The tassels hung down from the corners of his prayer shawl that he, like many men in my town, wore over their shoulders (Number 15). God commanded that we wear these as a reminder of our covenant. The tassels hung low enough that I thought there was a chance I could reach them through the huge crowd. So I did it. I sometimes still can't believe I did it. I reached down, touched only the tassel, and my bleeding stopped. It was a miracle. But then he turned and asked who had touched him. He felt himself healing. It wasn't the tassel that healed me it was Jesus himself. I was able to sneak away, but he wanted to meet the person who touched him. Could he mean me?
I was shaking. I have never been so scared in my life. How would he react? I had violated his cleanliness and made him unclean, and he and I both knew it. But I had to step forward to face him; he was waiting. My knees buckled in fear, and I fell to the ground in front of him. The crowd surrounded us as I poured out my heart and my whole story. The years of illness, the attempts at healing, being lonely and ritually unclean. That's when the real miracle happened. He wasn't angry. He didn't send me away to be completely banished from society. He didn't order me stoned. Instead Jesus offered me a blessing. I will never forget those words, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease." "Shalom." He blessed me and called me his daughter. I was now a somebody. I was Hannah, and I was whole. No longer unclean. No longer without family or friends or a future. I was God's daughter and part of God's Kingdom.
Jesus offered me shalom--peace. Jesus offered me salvation--being made well. Jesus offered me health and wholeness in more ways than I had dreamed of. It's been a few years since that encounter and yet, it still feels like yesterday. I shall never forget that feeling when Jesus offered me shalom. A few weeks later after this encounter my family heard of my healing and reached out to me. Cousins, nieces and nephews, family I had never even met were now welcoming me into their homes like a lost daughter. Parties were thrown in my honor. It was though I was dead and was alive again.
Soon after my encounter with Jesus I even received an offer for marriage. One of the men in the crowd that day took notice. Now my future looked promising after all of the struggles I had over those twelve years. He has property and a house, and there is food on the table each evening. I no longer have to search for food in the trash. My cup runneth over. God is so good.
And you might be asking about the daughter that I took Jesus away from when I interrupted him in the crowd. Because of my interruption that day, she died. But, like my story, Jesus healed her as well and she received new life through him. Jesus turned her family's mourning into dancing. He made her well too, and I see her around town every once in a while. She's well and someone would never know she had been so sick--Jesus brought her wholeness too. We both received the greatest gift--shalom. There were many miracles that day--what a day it was. We must not forget. It is up to all of us to tell the story of Jesus' gift of shalom--of peace--of wholeness and healing. It is surly a day people will remember for years to come. "O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever." (Psalm 30)
[Hannah's story is historical fiction based on research about the passage from Mark 5]
Resources Consulted
-Rob Bell, Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005) 105-107.
-William Barclay, The Gospel of Mark, rev. Ed from The Daily Study Bible Series (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster Press, 1975) 126-137.
-Lamar Williamson, Jr. Mark: Interpretation Series (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1983) 108-113.
-Michaela Bruzzese, “June 28” in “Living the Word, Reflections on the Revised Common Lectionary, Cycle B;” Sojourners Magazine (June 2009, page 49).
-Pheme Perkins, “Mark” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. VIII (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1995) 586-591.
-Mark D. W. Edington; Michael L. Lindvall; Efrain Agosto; and Beverly Zink-Sawyer; “Proper 8: Mark 5:21-43” in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 3 (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009) 188-193.
-James J.H. Price; Frederick J. Parrella; Christie Cozad Neuger; Susan Langhauser; Keith Hohly; Martin Kich; Kenneth H. Carter, Jr.; and Brett Younger; “Proper 8, Ordinary 13, Pentecost 4 for Mark 5:21-43” in Lectionary Homiletics, Vol. XX, Number 4 (June-July 2009) 28-36.
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