Jesus Heals Through His Humanity

During the month of July, Catholics celebrate the Precious Blood of Jesus. We are invited to contemplate our Lord’s sacrifice—literally the pouring out of His life force for all of humanity itself. It seems timely, then, that on the eve of this devotional time in the Church, we read from Mark about Jesus’s encounter with Jarius and the woman suffering from a hemorrhage. Why timely? Because this story, which in its graceful arc intricately and artfully entwines two distinct and co-equal plots, highlights our Lord’s humanity. Yes, it is His divinity that miraculously heals. But it is Jesus’s willingness and desire to physically and emotionally encounter the other in his and her humanness that ultimately invite and allow for physical and spiritual restoration.

In Mark 5:21-43, the narrative is shaped and informed by physicality. The crowds are loud and chaotic as they press on and push against Jesus, and even the private moments are characterized by tender physical intimacy. Integral to Jesus’s humanity is His attentive listening. This “human skill,” this “fruit” that defines Christ’s “path,” becomes and forms the path of the story itself (Spiritual Direction Certificate Program, 2019, p. 1).

Jairus appears, begging Jesus to heal his dying daughter. Jesus immediately answers this call into relationship with him, “leaving [Himself] behind…[and] entering fully into [Jairus’s] narrative” (Spiritual Direction, et. al., 2019, p. 1). The woman is introduced amidst this chaos, and the story shifts. Faithful despite her suffering, she is drawn to Jesus’s humanity. He is moving away from her, mobbed by followers, but she pursues Him, believing, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well” (5:28). As soon as she touches Jesus, He not only enters her reality, into relationship with her, He “becomes” her reality. “Immediately her hemorrhage stopped,” and Jesus was “[i]mmediately aware that power had gone forth from Him” (5:29-30). What’s more, to the incredulity of His disciples, He asks who touched Him. Jesus questions not only to “listen to others,” but also to form relationships with them—“to hear and explore what is on the other’s heart and mind” (Spiritual Direction, et. al., 2019, p. 1). The woman, knowing “in her body that she was healed” (5:29), could have quickly exited, but Jesus calls her to Him, her former unclean “qualities fad[ing] into…insignificance” (Van Kaam, 1996, p. 19). 

It is also significant that the woman’s hemorrhaging blood simultaneously represents the essence of her societal “uncleanliness” as well as the life force that had been draining from her for years and causing her terrible suffering. Both her status as an outcast and a woman in constant pain results in her separateness from others—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It is in Jesus’s vibrant humanity, however, that He stops the purging of this life force, returning not only her body but also, because of her faith, her spirit to right order.

While Jesus is still speaking to the woman, we are suddenly thrust back into the clamoring crowd. People are telling Jairus the girl is already dead. Hearing or ignoring this, Jesus comforts him “with reassurances of His love” (Acklin & Hicks, 2017, p. 52). Taking only Jairus, Peter, James, and John with Him, Jesus is again immersed in suffering: “weeping and wailing” at the girl’s house. He invites the family to believe the child only sleeps, but they reject this offer of faith, laughing at Him instead. Jesus’s rises up in the strength and tenderness of His humanity, sending them away, and moving towards the girl, into the sanctum of her room (of her being). His actions say, “[L]et me concentrate on giving you my entire attention” (Sullivan, 2000, p. 126), and He calls her into relationship with Him, commanding, “Talitha Cum” (5:41). This healing, unlike that of the woman, is intensely private; Jesus instructs the parents to tell no one. His humanity is delightfully lastly revealed when He pragmatically tells the girl’s parents to “give her something to eat” (5:43). Like her soul, her body requires nourishment, as well.

These stories prompt us to ask, When we suffer, will we have Jairus’s courage to beg for Jesus’s help? When we experience severe emotional and physical pain, will we persevere as the outcast woman, crawling through the crowd to touch Jesus’s garment? Let us pray that indeed we will. As our faith deepens, may we understand that the “human encounter” with Jesus is “the essence of cure in the deepest sense,” and that He calls us to Him through the fortitude of faith (Van Kaam, 1996, pp. 19-20).

Acklin, T., & Hicks, B. (2017). Vulnerability. In Spiritual Direction: A Guide for Sharing the Father’s Love (pp. 49-74). Emmaus Road Publishing.

Spiritual Direction Certificate Program (2019). What Does It Mean To Listen? (p. 1). Unpublished. 

Sullivan, J.E. (2000). The Healing Power. In The Good Listener (pp. 124-128). Ave Maria Press.

Van Kaam, A. (1996). Counseling and Psychotherapy as Human Encounter. In The Art of Existential Healing (pp. 15-40). Dimension Books.

Living in Right Order as a Family

“Brothers and sisters: Put on, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has had grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Wives, be subordinate to your husbands, as is proper in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and avoid any bitterness toward them. Children, obey your parents in everything, for this is pleasing to the Lord. Fathers, do not provoke your children, so they may not become discouraged” (2 Col 3:12-21).

Today, to begin the New Year, we celebrate the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God. We ask the Blessed Mother to keep us close to Jesus through her loving heart. Fittingly, yesterday, we celebrated the Feast of the Holy Family. On that day, we are called to see Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, each holy and perfected, as the example of how to lead our lives in community devoted to God. In addition to the Holy Family, yesterday’s Second Reading presents instructions for how to live with others in right order. With Christ at the center of all we do, we are to be compassionate, kind, humble, gentle, patient, and forgiving. We are to be thankful and lovingly correct one another. We are to honor the natural hierarchical order of the family. Rather than an arena of power struggles and contentiousness, this order, based on mutual respect and love, promotes encouragement, freedom, and the love of God.

At a time when the family is under attack; when chaos undermines the very foundation of male and female; and when the culture actively seeks to destroy life, taint childhood, and turn parents and children against one another, we are called to turn to the Holy Family for guidance and reassurance. Before Sister Lucia dos Santos, one of the three children of Fatima, died, she declared that the final battle between Christ and Satan would be over marriage and family. “The final battle between the Lord and the kingdom of Satan,” she wrote, “will be about marriage and the family.” She added, however, that “Our Lady has already crushed Satan’s head.”

As individuals as well as members of families and communities, let us look to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Regardless of what the culture tells us, let us remain faithful to their example of communal holiness, connected through faith and devotion to God and who he calls us to be.

We are the Woman of Tyre

Jesus went to the district of Tyre. He entered a house and wanted no one to know about it, but he could not escape notice. Soon a woman whose daughter had an unclean spirit heard about him. She came and fell at his feet. The woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth, and she begged him to drive the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first. For it is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” She replied and said to him, “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s scraps.” Then he said to her, “For saying this, you may go. The demon has gone out of your daughter.” When the woman went home, she found the child lying in bed and the demon gone (Mark 7:24-30).

When I read this Gospel early yesterday morning (2/9/23), it immediately resonated with me in a deep way, and I smiled to myself, understanding that God was speaking to my heart. 

Here is the Lord, wanting some time away from the crowds during His full days of ministering to them. In His humanity, we can imagine He is tired; He has been talking and healing for hours. But alas, this is not to be. A woman, a Gentile, no less, has found Jesus, followed Him into the house, and then falls “at His feet.” 

At first, He is noticeably a little irritated (although probably just responding in a clarifying manner) and tries to dismiss her. Jesus makes a comment about children and dogs, which scholars have argued has a variety of meanings, but ultimately suggests that He is at least appearing to be reluctant to help her. The woman, however, understanding His meaning, persists. Her love for her daughter is so great, her willingness to confront the Lord is so courageous and faithful, that Jesus cannot deny her. Even in this brief encounter, she and Jesus have formed a relationship—one of trust and love and faith. Jesus bears witness to the woman’s very real vulnerability, understands and hears her, and because of this frees her daughter from sin. 

How many times have we suffered for our children? How many hours have we worried, sought answers, and committed ourselves to doing anything we can to alleviate their suffering, pain, and struggle? How many late nights and early mornings have we sat in prayer, asking the Lord to deliver them? 

This mother in this story represents every one of us who has found the courage to become righteous warriors for our children—every one of us who is willing to go to the Lord, pleading for His merciful goodness and healing. It is not enough, however, just to ask for God’s help. Like this woman, we must remain determined to seek Him, follow Him, and then speak to Him with hearts fully open to His love. We cannot do this haphazardly. We cannot neglect Jesus for long periods of time and then only go to Him when we’re desperate. Of course, God can attend to us at any time. Even when we’ve been away from Him for a while, we can experience the healing of actual grace. But what this mother shows us is that when we are in relationship with Christ, when we are determined to find Him, be near Him, and ask for His understanding and help, He will always answer us. 

Although in this story Jesus was seeking time away from the crowds, He actually wants us to look for and find Him. In fact it is our very suffering that serves to draw us close to Him. He knows this, which is why, when we call for Him in our pain, He is there to comfort and heal us. 

At a time in our culture when women and mothers are often undermined and questioned, and when we sometimes ask ourselves if we have the courage to help our children through their sufferings, let this woman assure us we are in fact capable of doing just that. We cannot do it alone, however. As we cultivate our relationship with God, as we sit at the foot of the cross and integrate our pain with Jesus’s sacrifice, we are then in a position to best serve, care for, and lead our children. 

Mirroring the humility and faith of this woman and of course, Our Lady, may we continue to seek God’s love and goodness. May we pursue Him with courage and fierceness. And may we know when He answers us that it is our faith, born out of the crucible of suffering, that has saved us.