Grab His Cloak
“At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, ‘Who touched my clothes?’”
In a crowd of people all pushing to be near Jesus, only one woman touched him. The others orbited around Jesus; they may have even physically brushed against him, but they failed to touch him.
This woman, however, emboldened by both her faith and her suffering, with nothing left to lose, groped desperately for Jesus. And when she made contact with his cloak, it was not as one who just wanted to be seen with him. It was not as one who was just curious. It was not as one who had nothing better to do that day than see this novelty of a man.
It was as one who was desperate.
In her heart, she thought, Jesus, I have nothing left but you. You're my last hope. I have suffered so long. I have lost all my money at the hands of doctors and gained no healing in return. I have only gotten worse when I longed to get better. Oh, but if I just touch you, I will be healed!
The disciples were bewildered. How could Jesus whirl around and ask who touched him when the whole crowd was pressing up against him? Yet, out of all the people brushing up against him and vying for his attention, he knew exactly who he was talking about, who he was looking for. This woman who only grasped the hem of his cloak laid more claim on his attention and power than the multitude pressing against his body.
And He praised her for it. He praised her for her audacity. Her faith healed her. Her faith in his supply filled her every need.
But what if she had not reached out and touched Him? What if she had clung to condemnation and fear, telling herself how unworthy she was, and walked away still bleeding?
Perhaps others looked down on this woman. How dare she? How dare she think she is worthy of his attention? How dare she make such a claim on his power? How dare she touch a great Rabbi in all her uncleanliness, according to the Mosaic Law? But she dared. She dared. In all her suffering, in her poverty, in her shame, in her rejection, she dared. And she was rewarded.
How many of us circle Jesus, brushing up against him in the crowd while never making any claim on his power? Too audacious, we think, to grab the hem of his cloak in our unworthiness. Too brazen. Don't I have to wait until I'm better? And once I'm "saved," don't I have to wait until I've become less sinful?
Too often, we are content to mill about him, looking at him, talking about him, bragging that we've seen him to our friends later that day … but never grabbing the hem of his cloak in desperation. "I will not let you go until you bless me!" cried Jacob as he wrestled in the night.
It does not do to stand looking at a fountain when one is filthy. Looking at the fountain, admiring it, discussing its virtues, will not make us clean. We have to lay hold of its cleansing power by touching that water for ourselves.
Do not be afraid of approaching him. Just as the fountain would be foolish to expect clean people to come bathe in it, so Jesus knows it is only the dirty ragamuffins of this world who will summon up the audacity to grab his cloak.
“He said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.’”
