Our Faith Changes the Lord’s Agenda

We continue our study of Jairus and the woman who touched Jesus’ cloak. The Lord is on His way to Jairus’s house, pursued by a great crowd seeking the power present in Jesus’ life and ministry.

“But,” it says, “a woman who had suffered from a flow of blood for 12 years came up behind Him and touched the edge of His cloak.” That “but” there in verse 43 is very important because it tells us that when this woman approaches the Lord, she comes, rather, as a “footnote,” we might say, like an asterisk—something unexpected, something that marks an exception. Where the Lord is actually going is Jairus’s house, to attend to the request of this important man.

At that moment, this woman with the flow of blood does not figure in Jesus Christ’s plans; rather, she inserts herself into Christ’s path, into His agenda, and almost imposes herself on the Lord’s plans, we might say.

Until this woman appears, things are really working more or less as one would expect them to work in this ordinary world, where people with power, well-connected men, receive the help and provision they need to resolve their crises. But suddenly what we see here is that this powerless, alienated, insignificant, disparaged person—a woman with a flow of blood—asserts herself and makes her presence felt in the Lord’s agenda, giving the narrative we are examining, as it were, a different direction and different content.

Suddenly, attention turns not to the powerful person but to the weak person, the person who has no right, we might say, the person who is not on the agenda and ought not to be on it because she does not qualify. And this is very important, because we know very well that the Kingdom of God is for the worn-out, for the unacceptable, for those who need God’s grace and mercy. It is not necessarily for the righteous, or those who believe themselves righteous, but for those who are simple and humble of heart, who do not deserve to come before the Lord.

It makes me think of that passage in the Epistle to the Romans that says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” In other words, no human being deserves to come into the Lord’s presence, because we have all sinned, we have all disqualified ourselves, we have all shown that we are not worthy of divine consideration or divine favor.

And this woman, in a way, represents that humanity which has no right, that humanity which ought not to be in the picture, so to speak, but enters the picture through faith. So that “but” is a kind of acknowledgment of this woman’s exceptional character.

The other thing I see here is that this woman is very much like other people we encounter in Jesus’ ministry who approach the Lord because of a desperate condition. They have a sense of urgency, of need, of desperation almost, which compels them, drives them to seek God’s mercy and often leads them to do things that are discourteous and intrusive, things that might almost deserve condemnation or displeasure from God. But quite the opposite happens: instead of becoming annoyed with these desperate and assertive people, the Lord Jesus feels honored, is struck by them, and responds positively to the expressions of faith they show.

We see this, for example, with the friends of the paralyzed man. When they go looking for Jesus, once again the house is full, the crowd is pressing in on Jesus, and the place where the Lord is cannot be entered. Wanting to resolve their situation, they climb onto the roof, break through it, and lower their friend on his mat from the roof.

It always makes me laugh to imagine it: the Lord is speaking, and suddenly little bits of straw or dust begin falling from the ceiling. Everyone is watching as a hole starts to open, and then the hole gets bigger and bigger. Finally, perhaps they hear the voices of the men above saying, “Hey, lower him down! Be careful!” And at last this fellow appears on a mat, lowered by ropes or something like that, right? I imagine the Lord must have laughed a great deal, although the owner of the house surely got quite upset. But when the Lord sees these men full of faith, their faith makes Him marvel, and the Lord says, “Wow, what great faith,” and attends to their requests.

And so this woman, because she has so much faith that Christ can save her, inserts herself into the Lord’s agenda. Suddenly she emerges from her anonymous, powerless life and becomes a person with the power to act and decide, whom the Lord makes sure to attend to in her condition. So we see that this woman suddenly appears.

This is so important, isn’t it? Our faith moves mountains; our faith gets us out of the tight spots and predicaments we find ourselves in; our faith makes God pay attention. As that hymn says, “Your faith moves the hand of God.” There is also that other little chorus that says, “A look of faith is what can save the sinner.” That is, it is those inner movements of the heart, those passionate movements, those moments of great desperation when we have no recourse but to go before the Lord and ask for His mercy, and when we are willing to do whatever it takes. As Esther said when she was about to intervene at the king’s court, “If I perish, I perish,” because her situation was so desperate that she could not afford to be courteous or even to observe the fine points of the law.

This situation demanded a forceful and urgent response, and that is what happened, and the Lord responds to it. When we are in need and under great pressure and urgency, God is willing to hear our request. In a sense, we are never outside God’s agenda. What makes us acceptable and gives us access to the Lord is our willingness and our faith to believe in a merciful God of great compassion. God bless you; until our next meditation.