13th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year B
Mark 5: 21-43
When Jesus had crossed in the boat to the other side, a large crowd gathered round him and he stayed by the lakeside. Then one of the synagogue officials came up, Jairus by name, and seeing him, fell at his feet and pleaded with him earnestly, saying, ‘My little daughter is desperately sick. Do come and lay your hands on her to make her better and save her life.’ Jesus went with him and a large crowd followed him; they were pressing all round him.
Now there was a woman who had suffered from a haemorrhage for twelve years; after long and painful treatment under various doctors, she spent all she had without being any the better for it, in fact, she was getting worse. She had heard about Jesus, and she came up behind him through the crowd and touched his cloak. ‘If I can touch even his clothes,’ she had told herself ‘I shall be well again.’ And the source of the bleeding dried up instantly, and she felt in herself that she was cured of her complaint. Immediately aware that power had gone out from him, Jesus turned round in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?’ His disciples said to him, ‘You see how the crowd is pressing round you and yet you say, “Who touched me?”’ But he continued to look all round to see who had done it. Then the woman came forward, frightened and trembling because she knew what had happened to her, and she fell at his feet and told him the whole truth. ‘My daughter,’ he said ‘your faith has restored you to health; go in peace and be free from your complaint.’
While he was still speaking some people arrived from the house of the synagogue official to say, ‘Your daughter is dead: why put the Master to any further trouble?’ But Jesus had overheard this remark of theirs and he said to the official, ‘Do not be afraid; only have faith.’ And he allowed no one to go with him except Peter and James and John the brother of James. So they came to the official’s house and Jesus noticed all the commotion, with people weeping and wailing unrestrainedly. He went in and said to them, ‘Why all this commotion and crying? The child is not dead, but asleep.’ But they laughed at him. So he turned them all out and, taking with him the child’s father and mother and his own companions, he went into the place where the child lay. And taking the child by the hand he said to her, ‘Talitha, kum!’ which means, ‘Little girl, I tell you to get up.’ The little girl got up at once and began to walk about, for she was twelve years old. At this they were overcome with astonishment, and he ordered them strictly not to let anyone know about it, and told them to give her something to eat.
Rescued From Death by the God of Life
Fernando Armellini
Introduction
Despite the suffering it entails, humans desperately love life. Ulysses in Hades tries to comfort Achilles who replies: “Do not embellish me at death, O Odysseus! I would prefer, as a laborer, to serve on earth another man rather than rule over the dead.” The Egyptians viewed death differently. For them death was “everlasting life” in a wonderful kingdom, located to the west, lit by the sun god, from dawn until dusk, when it gets dark for us.
Among all ancient peoples the conviction of the existence of an afterlife prevailed and among the Greeks, immortality of the soul. Inexplicably, this did not happen with the Jews since they were born as a people in Egypt. They let more than a thousand years passed before they began to believe in a life beyond death.
They proclaimed, yes, the Lord “the God of life” (Num 27:16), but always in earthly perspective. “In you is the source of life,” sang the psalmist, but for life he meant “health and blessing” (Sir 34:17), a fertile land, abundant crops, numerous descendants, and finally, to die “at a good old age” (Gen 35:29), as the ripe sheaves that are withdrawn from the field (Job 5:26). In the Hebrew Bible the word “immortality” does not even appear.
The slowness of Israel in reaching an explicit affirmation of eternal life is precious and enlightening. It makes us understand that, before believing in the resurrection and a future world, it is necessary to value and passionately love life in this world as God appreciates and loves it.
Gospel Reflection
The passage proposes two miracles, one inserted inside the other. In the first verse Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue, enters the scene. He comes to Jesus to ask him to go and lay hands on his daughter who is about to die (vv. 21-24). Then he narrated the healing of a woman who suffered from bleeding for twelve years, (vv. 25-34), before continuing with the story of illness, death and resuscitation of Jairus’ daughter (vv. 35-43).
Let’s start from healing the woman suffering from an incurable hemorrhage (vv. 25-34). The disease is described in all its gravity. It lasts for twelve years, has not improved, in fact, it continues to get worse. No doctor is able to cure it, forcing the sick to squander all her savings. It is annoying and humiliating, hits the woman in her intimate part, in that part of her body that should be a source of life and, above all, because of religious impurity. Blood is the symbol of life, but when it leaves the body it recalls death, provokes disgust and fear. The law states that one who has bleeding is not allowed at parties and meetings of the community and is shunned by all, as if she were a leper. For those who have even casual contact with her is forced to undergo complicated ceremonies before resuming normal life (Lev 15:25-27).
Like all sick, marginalized, despised people (Mk 6:56), this unclean woman feels inside an irresistible impulse to get closer to Jesus, to “touch him”. “If I just touch his cloak—she thinks—I shall get well” (v. 28).
Two obstacles stand in between this meeting: the fear of violating the strict provisions of the law and the barrier formed by the huge crowd that flock around the Master. Hence the decision to act in secret. She approaches behind Jesus, touches his cloak and as if struck by a sudden force of life, she feels healed.
So far this is the fact. Now let us look at the details that allow us to capture “the sign” beyond the miracle. We are faced with an unnamed woman, impure for twelve years. The Evangelist would like to highlight the number twelve. In fact he will use it again later, when he speaks of the age of Jairus’ daughter: “She was twelve years old” (v. 42). Twelve is the symbol of the people of Israel, which—as I have often pointed out—is a feminine name.
The impurity of the woman and the absence of life of the child indicate, in the symbolic language of the evangelist, the dramatic condition of the woman Israel whose spiritual leaders are not only unable to cure her of the illness, but feels revulsion, shunning away from here and not favoring her misery. In fact they impede the encounter with Jesus who is able to communicate salvation.
The disease is undoubtedly a form of death. The psalmist considered it a step toward the realm of the afterlife (Ps 30:3-4). The contact with a sick and unclean person entails a decrease in life. All were afraid of it.
Jesus takes a unique approach: he does not avoid in any way those who are considered unclean. He lets himself be approached, touched and does not run to undergo the ritual purifications prescribed in the book of Leviticus. He is conscious of being in possession of a life force that cannot be affected by any form of death. He wants this to be known to all, that is why he calls the woman and places her in the middle, not to humiliate her, but for all to see, reflected in her, his own condition.
The woman advances “in fear and trembling,” as if being sick, feeling unclean, feeling the need of resorting to Jesus were a sin.
There is no physical or moral disease, that justifies the refusal or that constitutes a hindrance to approach God. In the face of the Lord all people are impure, but they are made pure by the encounter with his envoy, with Christ. Only the hypocrites consider themselves holy and raise barriers so as not to be united with sinners. They do not need to “touch” Jesus. They delude themselves that they are already in perfect health.
The attitude of Christ towards the woman is an invitation to never feel discomfort, not to flee in the face of those who are considered impure. The Christian is not afraid of losing his dignity or reputation by approaching or letting oneself be touched by all those avoided by others. The only thing that should be of interest to him is to find ways to give life to a brother or sister. If for this he has to challenge even the gossips and malice of the “good people,” he does not have to worry that much.
Jesus emanates a force of life, but not all those who touch him physically receive it. In today’s passage we see that around him there is a big crowd (v. 31). These are not enemies, but disciples, people that are very close to him, who perhaps push or encumber him. Yet he says that only one person has “touched” him. Only the sick woman touched him “with faith.” “Daughter, your faith has saved you,” he says, only you, in the midst of so many people, you’ve been able to accept the gift of God.
The crowd represents the Christians of today who are close to the Master. They have the opportunity to listen to his word and “touch him” in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist. If their life is not transformed, if their “diseases” are not cured and the vices, sins always remain the same, if the cantankerous character does not change, and the offensive words not lessened, it means they remain a “crowd” that throng around Christ without really ever “touching him.” They have a surface and exterior contact with him; his word is a sound that enters the ear, but does not reach the heart.
Let’s move on to the second episode, that of the the daughter of Jairus (vv. 21-24,35-43).
The element that unites this miracle to the above is the faith that saves.
Here we are not faced with a serious illness, but a desperate situation, leading to death. Can the force of life that Jesus gives to the sick still do something in an extreme case like this? Humanly speaking, it seems there is nothing more to expect, but Jesus advises the ruler of the synagogue: “Do not fear, just believe” (v. 36).
Here is the unheard message: his power to give life does not stop even in front of man’s greatest enemy, death.
By awakening the child from the sleep of death, he shows that faith in him can also obtain this victory. He did not win death because he adds a few years to the life of man in this world. If faith in him gets only this result, one cannot speak of a final victory. In the end death would still have the upper hand. He has defeated it because he transformed it into a birth, because he let it become a transition to life without end.
Then he wants to tell us, for those who have faith in him, there are no unrecoverable situations. In the face of one who presents only a little mistake, commits venial mistake, gives in to some weakness, has no difficulty in admitting that faith in Christ can achieve good results. However, when you come across people who have completely ruined their lives, who are basically depraved and practically “dead”, nearly all get discouraged and give heed to those who, like Jairus’ friends, keep repeating: “Why trouble the Master any further?”
To these people who are tempted to lose hope, something can still change. Jesus says: “Do not fear; just believe.” Whoever believes in him will see, even today, all those who are considered permanently “dead” rise to a new life.
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Love alone heals life
Pope Francis
In the Gospel today (cf. Mk 5:21-43) Jesus encounters our two most dramatic situations, death and disease. He frees two people from them: a little girl, who dies just as her father has gone to ask Jesus’ help; and a woman, who has had blood loss for many years. Jesus lets himself be touched by our suffering and our death, and he works two signs of healing to tell us that neither suffering nor death have the last word. He tells us that death is not the end. He defeats this enemy, from which alone we cannot free ourselves.
However, in this period in which illness is still at the centre of the news, let us focus on the other sign, the healing of the woman. More than her health, her affections were compromised. Why? She had blood loss and therefore, according to the mindset of the time, she was deemed impure. She was a marginalized woman; she could not have stable relationships; she could not have a husband; she could not have a family, and could not have normal social relationships, because she was “impure”, an illness that made her “impure”. She lived alone, with a wounded heart. What is the greatest illness of life? Cancer? Tuberculosis? The pandemic? No. The greatest illness of life is a lack of love; it is not being able to love. This poor woman was sick, yes, with blood loss, but as a result of lack of love, because she could not be with others socially. And the healing that counts the most is that of affections. But how do we find it? We can think of our affections: are they sick or are they in good health? Are they infirm? Jesus is able to heal them.
The story of this nameless woman — let us call her this way, “the nameless woman” — in whom we can all see ourselves, is exemplary. The text says that she had tried many treatments, “had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse” (v. 26). We too, how often do we throw ourselves into mistaken remedies to satisfy our lack of love? We think that success and money make us happy, but love cannot be bought; it is free. We hide in the virtual, but love is tangible. We do not accept ourselves as we are and we hide behind external facades, but love is not an appearance. We look for solutions from wizards and from holy men, to then find ourselves without money and without peace, like that woman. Finally, she chooses Jesus and throws herself into the crowd to touch Jesus’ garment. In other words, that woman seeks direct contact, physical contact with Jesus. Especially at this time, we understand how important contact and relationships are. The same goes for Jesus: at times we are content to observe some precepts and to repeat prayers — many times, like parrots — but the Lord waits for us to encounter him, for us to open our hearts to him, that, like the woman, we touch his garment in order to heal. Because, by becoming intimate with Jesus, we are healed in our affections.
Jesus wants this. In fact, we read that, even while pressed by the crowd, he looks around to find who touched him. The disciples were saying: “But you see the crowd pressing around you…”. No: “Who touched me?”. This is Jesus’ gaze: there are many people, but he goes in search of a face and a heart full of faith. Jesus does not look at the whole, like we do, but he looks at the individual. He does not stop at the wounds and mistakes of the past, but goes beyond sins and prejudices. We all have a history, and each of us, in our secret, knows well the ugly matters of our own history. But Jesus looks at them in order to heal them. We, instead, like to look at the ugly matters of others. How often when we speak, do we fall into chattering, which is speaking ill of others, “flaying” others. But look: what horizon of life is this? Not like Jesus, who always looks at how to save us; he looks at today; good will, and not the ugly history that we have. Jesus goes beyond sins. Jesus goes beyond prejudices. Jesus does not stop at appearances, but reaches the heart. And he heals precisely the one who had been rejected by everyone, an impure woman. He tenderly calls her “daughter” (v. 34) — Jesus’ style was closeness, compassion and tenderness: “Daughter…” — and he praises her faith, restoring her self-confidence.
Sister, brother, you are here, let Jesus look at and heal your heart. I too have to do this: let Jesus look at my heart and heal it. And if you have already felt his tender gaze upon you, imitate him, and do as he does. Look around: you will see that many people who live beside you feel wounded and alone; they need to feel loved: take the step. Jesus asks you for a gaze that does not stop at the outward appearance, but that goes to the heart: a gaze that is not judgmental, — let us stop judging others — Jesus asks us for a gaze that is non-judgmental, but rather welcoming. Let us open our hearts to welcome others. Because love alone heals life, love alone heals life. May Our Lady, Consoler of the suffering, help us bring a caress to those with wounded hearts whom we meet on our journey. And do not judge; do not judge the personal, social reality of others. God loves everyone! Do not judge; let others live and try to approach them with love.
Angelus 27/06/2021
A WOMAN’S GREAT FAITH
José Antonio Pagola
The scene is surprising. Mark the Evangelist presents an unknown woman as a model of faith for the Christian communities. From her they can learn how to seek Jesus with faith, how to reach a healing contact with him, and how to find in him the energy to begin a new life, full of peace and health.
Unlike Jairus, who is identified as «the president of the synagogue» and an important man in Capernaum, this woman is a nobody. We only know that she suffers a hidden sickness, typically feminine, that keeps her from living her life as a woman, wife and mother in a healthy way.
She suffers much both physically and morally. She’s been ruined going around seeking help from doctors, but no one’s been able to heal her. However she resists living always as a sick woman. She’s alone. No one helps her come close to Jesus, but she will know how to get to him.
She doesn’t wait passively for Jesus to come to her and place his hands on her. She herself seeks him out. She will go about overcoming every obstacle. She will do everything she can and knows how to do. Jesus will understand her desire for a more healthy life. She completely trusts in his healing power.
The woman isn’t satisfied only with seeing Jesus from afar. She seeks a more direct and personal contact. She acts with determination, but not thoughtlessly. She doesn’t want to bother anyone. She draws near from behind, among the crowd, and touches his cloak. In that delicate gesture her complete confidence in Jesus is realized and expressed.
Everything has happened secretly, but Jesus wants everyone to recognize this woman’s great faith. When she confesses what she’s done, frightened and trembling, Jesus tells her: «My daughter, your faith has restored you to health; go in peace and be free of your complaint». This woman, with her capacity to seek and welcome the salvation that comes to us in Jesus, is a model of faith for all of us.
Who is helping the women of our day to encounter Jesus? Who makes the effort to understand the obstacles that they find in some parts of today’s Church to live out their faith in Christ «in peace and free of complaint»? Who values the faith and the efforts of the women theologians who, with little or no support and conquering all kinds of resistance and rejection, work tirelessly to open pathways that allow women to live with more dignity in Jesus’ Church?
Women don’t find among us the welcome, the appreciation and the understanding that they find in Jesus. We don’t know how to look at them the way Jesus looked at them. However, frequently they are also the ones who sustain the life of not a few Christian communities with their faith in Jesus and their Gospel spirit.
