Absence of Virtue
Mark 5:21-43
Gospel of Mark tells the story of Jesus in its own unique way. Dr. Tom Long, Professor of Preaching at Emory University says that Mark is the most rustic gospel of the four. In Mark there are no Christmas stories to snuggle up to. There are no post-resurrection appearances. All the loose ends don’t get tied up as neatly as they might with the other gospel writers.
One of Mark’s unique traits is to tell inter-penetrating stories – one story gets interrupted and also interpreted by another story.
Our text tonight is a perfect example. An important person has a need. He comes to Jesus to meet that need. This is a big deal. This person is influential – a mover and shaker in society. As Jesus goes with him to see his sick daughter someone unimportant interrupts the journey. We’re familiar with this story of the unnamed woman with the 12 year hemorrhage. We know that she takes great risk in touching Jesus – in even being in the crowd that day. One thing we might miss – because it is often obscured in biblical translations – happens in verse 30 where the NRSV says, “the power had gone forth” from Jesus when the woman touches him.
In a version of the Bible we rarely use any longer, the King James Version, it says, “the virtue went out of Jesus.” That’s a whole different image, isn’t it?
Someone important needs your time, your attention, your expertise. We like that. It can make us feel worthy, important or valuable. In the process of going to this appointment some unimportant person confronts you on the street or asks for change. How we handle that unimportant person may be more important than how we handle the important person.
Jesus acknowledged the unimportant woman’s faith and honored her rather than dismissing her. He then proceeds to the home of Jairus and attends to his daughter.
Why was it important for Mark to tell the story this way? Maybe Mark was trying to say to the disciples who would be reading the story anxious to be used as healers and helpers in the world (who subconsciously long for recognition and affirmation of our worth) once your virtue is removed, all you have left is faith. Faith is enough.
Last week at the Festival of Homiletics Rev. Robyn and I attended, I was sitting in a hallway in Central Lutheran Church waiting for the sanctuary to open for the first worship service. There were hundreds of people, mostly preachers, milling around getting ready to rush in for a seat. I was trying to read through some of the materials to see what events at the conference I would want to attend when a homeless man appears in the hallway and makes his way directly for me. I don’t know why I have this homing device for such encounters, but I do. He spoke to nobody else (all those pastors and preachers waiting to hear the good news of God’s love) – he spoke to nobody but me. He tried to engage me in conversation but the odor of alcohol was pretty strong and offensive. I looked around for help but everyone averted their eyes because they didn’t know what to do with this guy any more than I did. I tried to be friendly, answer his questions and return to my reading so he would get the hint to keep on moving but he wouldn’t go away. Finally a security guard came by, recognized the homeless man and escorted him out of the building. I was very relieved and I was embarrassed that I was relieved. It made me wonder what was the faithful thing to do in that situation? He didn’t ask me for anything, although it seemed that was where we were headed. He was courteous, if a bit pushy.
He left me without my virtue. I had not given him anything, helped him in any way or prevented his being removed from the building. I was left with my ambiguity of not having any good answers for the dilemma that he presented me.
That’s where this story impacted me this past week. I saw hope in this story – that is, when my virtue fails me then I have to rely completely on faith – faith means not having all the answers. It means living with the grey when so much of the religious world is trying to give you a stark black and white choice. It means knowing that ambiguity will not always be resolved but that I can trust the reality of God’s grace even in the ambiguity.
Sources:
Long, Dr. Tom; Professor of Preaching at Emory University as presented at Festival of Homiletics Conference, May 2008, Minneapolis, MN.