Mark 5:25-27

THE BELIEVING ONE AND THE UNBELIEVING MANY

‘And a certain woman … when she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched His garment.’

Mark 5:25

I. The mighty difference.—There is a great difference—it may be a difference for us as of life and death—between thronging Jesus and touching Him. The multitude thronged Him; only this faithful woman touched Him. There was nothing to the outward eye which should distinguish between her action and theirs. St. Peter and the other disciples could see nothing to distinguish this woman from any other member of that eager, inquisitive, unceremonious multitude which crowded around Him, as was their wont; so that St. Peter, who was always ready, and sometimes too ready, with his word, is half inclined to take his Lord up and rebuke Him for asking this question, ‘Who touched My clothes?’ A question which had so little reason in it, seeing that the whole multitude were thronging and pressing upon Him at every moment and on every side. But Christ reaffirms and repeats His question, ‘Who touched Me?’ He knew the difference, He distinguished at once, as by a Divine instinct, that believing one from the unbelieving many. There was that in her which put her in connection with the grace, the strength, the healing power which were in Him.

II. In what it consisted.—Do you ask me what this was? It was faith. It was her faith. She came expecting a blessing, believing in blessing, and so finding the blessing which she expected and believed. But that careless multitude who thronged the Lord, only eager to gratify their curiosity, and to see what new wonder He would next do, as they desired nothing, expected nothing from Him, so they obtained nothing. Empty they came, and empty they went away.

III. We are of the many that throng Jesus, not of the faithful few who touch Him. We bear a Christian name; we go through a certain round of Christian duties; we are thus brought outwardly in contact with the Lord; but we come waiting for no blessing, and so obtaining no blessing. Faith is wanting; faith, the divine hunger of the soul, the emptiness of the soul longing to be filled, and believing that it will be filled, out of God’s fullness, and because this is so, therefore there goes no virtue out from Him to us; it is never given to us so to touch Him as that immediately we know in ourselves that we are whole of our plague.

—Archbishop Trench.

Illustration

‘Some remarks of Melancthon’s on this woman’s case are worth reading. We are doubtless to be careful that we do not hastily attach an allegorical and mystical sense to the words of Scripture. Yet we must not forget the depth of meaning which lies in all the acts of our Lord’s earthly ministry; and at any rate there is much beauty in the thought which Melancthon expresses. He says, “This woman doth aptly represent the Jewish synagogue vexed a long time with many mischiefs and miseries, especially tortured with unconscionable princes, and unskilful priests, or physicians of the soul, the Pharisees and Sadducees; on whom she had wasted all her goods, and yet she was not a whit better, but rather much worse, till the blessed Lord of Israel in His own person came to visit and redeem her.” ’

(SECOND OUTLINE)

IMPERFECT FAITH

We need to learn that very imperfect faith may be genuine faith. There was unquestionable faith in Christ’s healing power, and there was earnest desire for healing. Our Lord Himself recognises the woman’s faith as adequate to be the condition of her receiving the cure which she desired.

The imperfections of this woman’s faith were many.

I. It was intensely ignorant.—She dimly believes that, somehow or other, this miracle-working Rabbi will heal her, but the cure is to be a piece of magic, secured by material contact of her finger with His robe. She has no idea that Christ’s will or His knowledge, much less His pitying love, has anything to do with it. She thinks that she may get her desire furtively, and may carry it away out of the crowd. He, the source of it, be none the wiser and none the poorer for the blessing which she has stolen from Him. What utter blank ignorance of Christ’s character and way of working! What complete misconception of the relation between Christ and His gift!

II. It was very selfish.—She wanted health; she did not care about the Healer. She thought much of the blessing in itself, little or nothing of the blessing as a sign of His love. She would have been quite contented to have had nothing more to do with Christ if she could only have gone away cured. She felt but little glow of gratitude to Him whom she thought of as unconscious of the good which she had stolen from Him. All this is a parallel to what occurs in the early history of many a Christian life. The first inducement to a serious contemplation of Christ is, ordinarily, the consciousness of one’s own sore need. Quite legitimate and natural at first, this faith must grow into something nobler when it has once been answered. To think of the disease mainly is inevitable before the cure, but after the cure we should think most of the Physician. Self-love may impel to His feet; but Christ-love should be the moving spring of life thereafter.

III. It was weakened and interrupted by much distrust.—There is not a full calm reliance on Christ’s power and love. She dare not appeal to His heart, she shrinks from meeting His eye. She will let Him pass, and then put forth a tremulous hand. Crosscurrents of emotion agitate her soul. She doubts, yet she believes; she is afraid, yet emboldened by her very despair; too diffident to cast herself on His pity, she is too confident not to resort to His healing virtue.