Sunday, November 8th, 2009
Archangels, and a suffering woman
Today is the day that we commemorated the Archangel Michael and the other bodiless Powers of Heaven, so at Liturgy this morning we had two Gospel readings. One concerned the Angels (Luke 10:16-21), while the other was the story of Jairus’ daughter and the woman with the issue of blood (Luke 8:41-56). When I read them, I was struck by a common thread, an unexpected commonality. One would not necessarily associate the woman with the issue of blood with the mighty Archangels, yet…
I have always loved the reading about the unnamed woman. It is easy to imagine the scene in your mind’s eye. There is Jesus, together with the disciples, in the middle of a jostling, shouting, thoroughly rambunctious crowd. Some are there because they want Jesus to help them – whether illness or demonic possession or what have you – while still others are there to see the famous teacher. There are people there, as well, intent on listening to what Jesus might say, with an eye to taking it back to the Sanhedrin, already looking for an excuse – any excuse – to put the Lord to death. Finally, like any celebrity sighting, there would have been hordes of the simply curious. Only the lack of appropriate technology kept the crowd free of paparazzi.
In the midst of all of that, Jesus would have been the center of gravity, the one point on which all attention was focused. No one would have noticed that pale, shy woman creeping toward the Messiah. Indeed, had they noticed her she would most likely have been shoved away, scorned by the good people in the crowd. She was poor, she was desperately ill, and she was on the verge of being without hope. For twelve years she had suffered from an issue of blood, and her quest for a cure had done nothing but impoverish her. Even worse, her condition was such as to render her unclean, and unable to even enter the synagogue. She was a person that decent folk had nothing to do with, and as far as the Law was concerned, God had no use for her either. It could only have been desperation that drove her to approach Jesus, and to reach out and touch the hem of his garment.
Jesus knew. He knew that someone had touched him in faith, and in humility. Someone had not had the courage, like Jairus, to openly ask for a miracle, but had trusted that she would be healed by simple faith. When Jesus asked Peter who had touched him, however, we can almost imagine Peter rolling his eyes. Look at all these people. They have all touched you!
What healed that woman? What attracted the grace of God, and caused her to be free of the curse which she was under. It was faith, indeed, but it was more than that. It was simple humility, humbleness of heart and meekness of soul.
But what does that have to do with angels?