And why not?
Here’s a thing, there’s a woman in Mark 5 who has been bleeding for twelve years, and we don’t know her name. What got preserved for two thousand years of church history is her medical condition. We call her the Woman with the Issue of Blood. Not her personality, not her family. Just the thing that was wrong with her. Mark is in such a rush with his gospel he didn’t pause to find out, “what’s her name?”
Which is both unfortunate and completely relatable.
Most of us are carrying a label we didn’t choose. It happens. Some were handed to us by people who should have known better. Some we’ve worn so long we’ve stopped questioning whether they’re even accurate (I work with someone called Bruce, but it turns out that his name is Adrian. No one knows how he got to be called by that name, it just happened.) Anxious. Broken. Too much. Not enough. The one who failed. After a while, you stop noticing the label.
This woman knew the weight of it. Twelve years of it. Unclean by religious law. Untouchable. Excluded from temple, community, normal life. She’d spent everything on doctors and got worse for the trouble. Fingers point, ‘is that?’
Then she hears Jesus is nearby.
Let’s be honest about the awkwardness. Pharisees are watching like rabid Rottweilers; this woman is technically not supposed to be in that crowd, and there’s another crisis happening. Jairus, a man of standing, has a dying daughter and like a paramedic, Jesus is already on his way. Jairus also has a label. The story has somewhere to be. Blues and two’s all the way.
She comes anyway. Presses through. Reaches for the hem of his garment. Not even the man himself. Just the outermost edge of his cloak. That’s all that matters, ‘if I can just touch…’
Cue the music; the moment she does, everything changes.
This is top Netflix stuff; instantly Jesus stops and asks who touched him – specifically, ‘who?’ The disciples think the sun has got to Him, he’s lost the plot. But he felt power go out from him. He was paying attention in a way nobody else in that crowd was capable of. That’s one to think about …
She comes forward trembling and tells him everything. The thing she doesn’t mention at dinner. The thing she’s learned to work around in conversation. And Jesus calls her daughter.
Not healed woman. Not formerly unclean woman. Daughter. A word that replaces a label with a relationship.
She came in defined by what was wrong with her. She left defined by who she belonged to. And it happened through one desperate, slightly rule-breaking reach toward Jesus in a crowd.
If you’re watching this story from the outside, there’s a moment where you stop seeing a first century, very desperate, needy woman and start seeing something uncomfortably familiar.
As you do so, recognise that whatever the life-label is, whatever makes you feel like you’re not quite supposed to be in the crowd, watch her press through. Watch her reach. Watch Jesus stop. No imposter syndrome. She belongs.
So here you are – ask yourself what’s stopping you from doing the same thing. Reach out and touch as you pray, worship, follow and obey.