This Sunday we will consider Mark 5:21-43, a complex pattern of two interwoven stories. Among the many lessons we could glean from this is the importance of simply seeing the suffering and the needs of those around us.
In the middle of that passage we find the story of the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. It says, “She had suffered a lot under the care of many doctors, and had spent everything she had without getting any better. In fact, she had gotten worse” (Mark 5:26). A lot of us can probably relate to that. Modern medicine can accomplish amazing things, yet so much of the time figuring out a medical challenge involves trying out different things.
We can infer that the woman originally had a lot of money, since she could afford many doctors in the first place, something out of reach for the average Jew of the time. Still, she spent it all to no avail.
Under the ritual laws of Judaism, she would have been considered constantly, continually unclean for over a decade, which would cut her off from all social interaction. We have chafed under isolation for a little over a year now; imagine the experience of being totally outcast for over a decade.
Though we don’t deal with the effects of such ritual uncleanness, disease and disability still isolate us today. Those with visible disabilities (like our daughter) know the tendency of people to avoid eye contact or even acknowledgment. Those who differ make others uncomfortable.
Jesus not only healed this woman. He spoke with her. He looked at her—he saw her. He spoke tenderly to her and called her “daughter.”
He healed her physically, though not consciously. After all, at first he didn’t know who touched him. (Or he did know, and just wanted to give her the opportunity to come forward.) He also healed her emotionally and restored her to her community.
We may not be able to physically heal someone with our touch. But we can see them. We can include them. We can acknowledge their presence, and give them the gift of our own presence.