Sun Kwak, “Transforming Our Strangeness into Familiarity”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UK5wRtEiotc

TEXT: Mark 5:21-43

[21] And when Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered about him, and he was beside the sea. [22] Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name, and seeing him, he fell at his feet [23] and implored him earnestly, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well and live.” [24] And he went with him.

And a great crowd followed him and thronged about him. [25] And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, [26] and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. [27] She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. [28] For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.” [29] And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. [30] And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” [31] And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’” [32] And he looked around to see who had done it. [33] But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told him the whole truth. [34] And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

[35] While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” [36] But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” [37] And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James. [38] They came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and Jesus saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. [39] And when he had entered, he said to them, “Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping.” [40] And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and went in where the child was. [41] Taking her by the hand he said to her, “Talitha cumi,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” [42] And immediately the girl got up and began walking (for she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. [43] And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

SERMON: “Transforming Our Strangeness into Familiarity”

Jim just couldn’t stay put. He was bouncing around from home to home in the foster care system. From an early age, he remembered constant abuse from his biological mother and from his stepdad. And this wasn’t just verbal abuse and emotional abuse — it was physical abuse and sexual abuse. At some point, he determined — Enough is enough. So, he fled from home, and from that point forward, he vowed that he would never let anyone lay hands on him again. He was eventually found through the help of some social workers. They took him back home, but they deemed his home unfit for him to return to. So, the social workers gave him two options — (1) stay in a group home, or (2) be taken into a foster home. And he decided to go with the second option. And so, he goes into this foster home with some expectations, but not much. But in his mind, he’s thinking — It can’t be as bad as what I was coming out from, right? But soon, he realizes that these foster parents are no different. The home was constantly messy, creating further entropy in his already ungrounded heart. And on top of this, these foster parents used their foster kids to do all the chores and work around the home. At one point, this foster dad wanted to get assertive. Jim wasn’t complying with his demands in the way he wanted him to. So, he throws Jim on the ground, gets on top of him, and he’s about to pound his face in. But then, Jim tells him — I know where you keep your guns. You hit me again, and I’ll kill you. And so, this foster dad gets off of him. And within a matter of days, Jim is back out on the streets. And it was this pattern that kept happening in cycles. It was a matter of months, a matter of weeks, at some point, he was gone. Jim was hurt, but he was sharp and intuitive. If he sniffed out anything similar to what he was unfortunately accustomed to, he’d flee.

But then, he met Gary and Carol. They were older, had no one else home. And they were Christian, but that didn’t mean much to Jim at that time. Because of his trauma with male authority figures, he’s especially wary of this new foster dadGary. But Gary takes Jim to his garage one day, and he shows him these dirt bikes. Gary loved them, and he wanted to share one with Jim. And mind you, this is with Gary fully aware of Jim’s history of fleeing. He probably wasn’t going to catch Jim on foot, but he definitely wasn’t going to with one of these bikes. But he takes him there anyway. And he tells him — You pick one, and you take care of it. And Jim’s mind, just as anticipated, is thinking about how he might ride one of these off. But then, Gary grabs Jim’s shoulders, and he looks into his eyes and tells him — And I promise I will never lay hands on you. Jim’s recalling this moment twenty years later in an interview, and the emotions overtake him. He’s choked up in tears, and he pauses. Because Gary stayed true to his words. And it meant something now to Jim that Gary and Carol loved the Lord. Because he came to realize — it made them different. Jim eventually turned eighteen. And by that time, he actually wanted to stay in the house. And he didn’t know what to do with that feeling, because he’d spent his whole life fleeing. But there was this new desire that surfaced in his heart, but it was one that he was made for. He wasn’t made to flee but to remain and to belong. He was made for home. But the law is the law, and he was now legally an adult. And Gary and Carol no longer were obligated by the State to house Jim. Plus, the State wasn’t going to send over a check for housing him any longer, so his stay would have been an inconvenience to them. So, Jim’s packing up his bags, ready to leave. And Gary comes over and asks what he’s doing. Jim responds that he’s eighteen now, and he knows what that means. He knows that they’re no longer legally bound to house him. And that he was now a financial burden to this elderly couple. And there, Gary steps into him, the same way he had when he first broke down the barriers in his garage a couple years before. And he grabs his shoulder, and he looks him in the eye — But Jim, you’re a part of this family now. And so, Jim stayed. And for Jim, who had vowed to never be touched, who distanced himself from every male authority figure now had this new narrative with a heart wholly transformed. Jim, at the time of this interview, has a family of his own, is an active member at his church. He’s a gentle father, because he learned to be a son. And sometimes, that’s not something innate but learned through deep experience.

We’re going to be in this passage for the next three weeks. And there are two stories that are intricately connected. There’s the story of Jairus and his daughter, but then, there’s this story of the bleeding woman, which we’re going to look at today. And when you look at her story, there is a mentioning of physical touch five times. And it’s significant, because it emphasizes proximity. She’s a social pariah — one people kept their distance from. She’s ceremonially unclean, undoubtedly smells and doesn’t have the means to undo the smell both from her body and from her clothes. And so, she’s someone who’s been distant from people — not by her own choice but by the shunning of others. And that’s shaped her narrative. Like Jim, she was created for community, she was made for belonging. But it’s a reality that she hasn’t had for twelve years. And twelve years is a long time — long enough to retire the Beatles, long enough to bookend Michael Jordan’s time with the Chicago Bulls, long enough to see Donald Trump elected, impeached, lose an election, then elected again for his second term. So, it’s a long time. But something interesting that we get toward the end of the story is in verse 34, when Jesus tells her — Be healed of your disease. This isn’t before but after he’s already healed her. It’s after her flow of blood had already stopped. Be healed of your disease. It shows us that there was deeper wounding beneath her seemingly irreversible condition. She needed healing beneath her healing. And we noted how people had avoided her for years. And suddenly, to experience touch — and not just touch but touch five times over. It shows us and it showed her that Jesus isn’t just one-time committed to her healing. But like Gary’s grabbing of Jim’s shoulder, this touch had a narrative, and it would forever change the trajectory of her communing.

We don’t know how old this woman is — the text doesn’t say. The only detail we get is that she’s had this condition of bleeding for twelve years. And no matter how old she is, once again, twelve years is a long time. But what we’re intended to see is that this a lifetime, at least a different life for a long protracted season. In tying two stories together in this twelve year timeframe, Jairus’ daughter, who’s twelve years old and has lead a good and happy life to this point, belonging to a family and a home of opulence and means. In the meantime, here’s this woman, who’s had her life turned upside down. She has this bleeding condition — most commentators say that this is constant hemorrhaging. I’m told this is not just uncomfortable but painful. It happens to most women once a month for a set amount of days. But for her, it was constant. She didn’t know when the bleeding would happen, and she couldn’t stop it when it did. So, it outcasted her. And again, she was literally unclean but she was also ceremonially unclean, which meant that there were legal stipulations against her coming into a gathering of people.

Then, you have details about how she spent all she had in verse 26, which shows two things — (1) that her condition couldn’t be fixed by physicians, and (2) that she was poor and without means to bring income, which meant she had likely been deduced to being on the highways and byways and streets, most likely begging for food and without shelter. She was someone physically, socially, and ceremonially outcasted. That’s just the raw details from the outside viewing in. Imagine what’s happened internally — in her heart, with her mind, with her sense of sanity. For biblical authors in the New Testament, the inclusion of names is important — it meant you’re somebody. And the fact that she has no name likely means that she’s unimportant. Maybe she’d never been a person of relevance, like Jairus is. But now, she’s a person of irrelevance — this no name outcast who’s spent her past twelve years living under this narrative. You think about the one we recall as the Samaritan woman at the well. We’re told the description that she’s from Samaria. But we don’t get that with this bleeding woman. All we know is that she’s had this condition for twelve years. Which means, she’s likely a Jew. She’s likely from a family of Jews. And she likely grew up going to synagogue and to the Temple for big events like Passover. She was once one who had belonged in community, but she was told to leave. And she had to stay out when her condition wouldn’t get better. Her own people’s holy book told her so. It’s one thing to be told by some friends in the playground that you smell or that you can’t play with us. I mean, that’s wounding. But it takes it to a whole new level when you’re told that you don’t belong.

I remember hearing an interview with Muhammad Ali, whose context was the Jim Crows Laws. He was telling the interviewer how there was a restaurant in the South that wouldn’t seat him. The waiter told him — We don’t serve black people. To which he responded — I don’t eat them either, now let me just sit and get a cheeseburger. He was always someone who added humor to places bandaged and wounded. But he never missed with his words. I’ve lived my life as an Asian American often in places where Asian culture was not celebrated and welcomed but ridiculed and mocked. I’ve had to teach our kids the unfortunate reality of how to navigate unnecessary comments and remarks and condescending jokes related to our ethnic heritage. And those hurt and are infuriating, but I can’t imagine the hurt that comes not with informal cultural nuances but with organized and institutionalized ostracizing and othering. And of course, the myriad of experiences that come even before that. So, it was one thing for his woman to feel that her people rejected her. It was a whole different thing to be held to a document, a legal and common code, that told her that her God has rejected her and deemed her unclean and unfit to belong with him and with his people.

You look at Leviticus 15:25-27, regarding the Old Testament laws pertaining to those who undergo days of bodily discharge, and specifically, menstrual discharge — which is why the woman in our passage is often deemed the bleeding woman. This ceremonial uncleanness not only casts her out and deems her unclean. But everything she touches — her bed, people, clothes. Anything she touches becomes unclean. But I want us to notice what happens here in our passage. What does she say? In verse 28 — If I touch even his garments, I will be made well. And I think we often read that as some kind of faith that Jesus can heal her if she just makes a small effort. But Jesus could have healed her just by her thinking it in her heart. She didn’t need to touch him. And so, what’s with the touch? Because she must have known that the law forbid her to touch others in this manner, lest they also become unclean. And so, what made her think that her going against the law would reverse nature’s order, where instead of the unclean contaminating, the clean would overpower the effects of what’s unclean? She may have wanting to do some form of touch and dash. But that’s not what happens. The moment she touches Jesus, everything changes. Her bleeding that was incessant, suddenly dries up. But it’s not just her physical condition that’s the core of the center here — because we noted that in verse 34, Jesus told her then to be healed of her disease. And so, what happened?

If you notice in verse 30, after the immediacy of this healing, we’re told there that Jesus asks — Who touched my garments? And this is not some random occasion in the middle of the field, where people were easily identified. This was in the middle of the crowd, in the midst of a busy place of commerce, with the hustle and bustle. And so, the disciples scoff at this in verse 31 — You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’ As in, Jesus, everyone is touching you who passes by you. But what does the text say in why Jesus asks that question? In verse 30, we read there — Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him. He was weakened and sapped of power. That word for power is the word δυναμις, which is where we get the word dynamite. This a transfer of power — think exothermic and endothermic reactions, to bring us all back to middle school science. Because you see, this is the key to why Jesus tells her that her faith made her well. Not just believing that Jesus could but that Jesuswould. That he would be willing to share in her suffering. That he would be willing to step into her place. Because in this critical moment of questioning, where Jairus is uncertain about what’s to happen. In this upside down moment, where Jesus is pausing for this interaction with this ceremonially unclean woman. Here, we get a small snapshot of what we ultimately see on the cross, when Jesus is made weak in order that we might be made strong. Where he transfers to ushis righteousness in order that our uncleanness and our unrighteousness he takes, as he bears the wrath of God upon the cross. Here, Jesus experiences the ultimate exchange of all of our uncleanness, all of our sinfulness, all of our deserving punishment — if we were to have faith.

And so, I guess we can say that this woman had a hunch. I don’t know her systematic theology. But something in her had to realize — I’m an outcast, I’m unclean, I’m unwell. That’s her admission of herself. But also to say — But if I just touch him, if I pass my uncleanness to him, he’ll know what to do with it. And that’s for all of us in here with brokenness and conditions and habits that we don’t know what to do with. We bring it to Jesus, because he’ll know what to do with it. Because unlike any physician she paid for, here this woman commits to her healing as she leans wholly upon this man she’s only heard rumors about. And look at this moment of healing — not just her condition of incessant bloody discharge. But she who had always been cast out, all of a sudden, she’s the center of attention, she’s the focal point. But not just in the crowd, but with the eyes of the only ones in the universe that truly matter. For we read in verse 32 that Jesus looked around to see who had done it. And here, Mark uses two words for seeing — the first is a physical seeing, but the second is a considering, a cognitive contemplation. That his purpose of physically seeing her was in order to cognitive know her. Just as him physically restoring her was in order to cognitively restore her. It’s the same word for seeing that Luke uses when Peter had betrayed Jesus, the rooster crowed for the third time, and Jesus looked at him. It’s a look of knowing — but I presume, not one of condemnation but of compassion. For Peter — I knew all along Peter. It’s why I gave you the Supper. Because I’m going to hold onto you.

And for this woman — Hey, I see you. I’ve seen you all along. You know me. For here, healing happens as Jesusconfirms that look upon her when telling her in verse 34 — Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease. She might have spent these past twelve years unnamed, but in this moment, all of that changed — here, she was known. And she would forever be known as the daughter of the king. Maria Popova writes: “To name a thing is to acknowledge its existence as separate from everything else that has a name; to confer upon it the dignity of autonomy while at the same time affirming its belonging with the rest of the namable world; to transform its strangeness into familiarity, which is the root of empathy.” To take what put you out and made you unknown. And to have taken that to the hands of one, who then puts familiarity and not strangeness upon your confession. I wonder if some of us are waiting to be known here in this room. It might not be a twelve year condition. But maybe it’s something deep, something you’ve kept hidden, something that you feel casts you out. Maybe it’s time to give it air — to touch the garment of the king. And to be taken to your place of healing — to the place of Great Exchange, where the King died for his servants, where he with infinite riches became poor to give us eternal riches, where the Sondied in order to bring estranged daughters and sons home. As you and I know, there are some things that no amount of money, influence, or status can fix. There are some things that only Jesus can mend. Let’s bring those to him this morning. And perhaps, it might be the beginning of your journey, where you hear those words in your heart — Your faith has made you well; be healed of your disease. Draw near to the friend of sinners who lived and died and rose to make intercession for you.