Seeing Through the Crowd

Read Mark 5:21-34

She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, “If I but touch his cloak, I will be made well.” –Mark 5:27

There are few places in this world more crowded than the area in front of the Disney castle before a fireworks show. People start staking out their spot up to an hour in advance. As the area fills in, eventually the staff will direct everyone to stand so they can squeeze in more people. Something happens as the area gets more crowded, it changes the way we see those around us.  

At the beginning, we might socialize with those around us. Even if we’re complete strangers, we’ll compare notes on our favorite rides or sympathize about a shared problem (how hot the day was, how tired our kids are). But as more people fill in the spaces, we will look at these newcomers differently. They are obstacles to our experience. Especially if they squeeze in unfairly (claiming a spot that we waited an hour to secure) or if they do something that blocks our view (like putting a child up on their shoulders and holding up their phone in our line of sight).

When the show is over, all sense of our common humanity disappears. The magic is over, our bodies are tired, and “Mainstreet USA” becomes this massive bottleneck as everyone is pressing to get out. I can remember one particular family that watched the fireworks next to us. Before the show, they were as nice as could be, sharing snacks and making jokes. After the fireworks, it was like watching Dr. Jekyll become Mr. Hyde. The dad literally rammed his child’s stroller into the legs of those in front of us, yelling for people to keep moving—even if there was nowhere for them to move!

Jesus had to navigate crowds wherever he went. We’ve already seen in Mark’s Gospel that the crowds pressed Jesus so much that he often withdrew—either into the wilderness or to the other side of the lake. In this case, though, Jesus had no choice but to brave the crowds. The person who needed his healing (Jairus’ daughter) was on the other side of town. But the market in Capernaum was very narrow—I imagine it like the press of people along Main Street USA after the fireworks!

And then, all of a sudden, Jesus stopped. “Someone touched me,” he said. The disciples were incredulous—there were literally hundreds of people moving and pushing around them, anxious to see a real-life miracle. Everybody was touching Jesus!

But Jesus knew who he was looking for. Someone had touched him not in a hurry—it was not a push or a demand. This touch was tentative and beseeching—it was filled with hope. Jesus waited until the woman revealed herself. It’s not clear why she didn’t identify herself in advance. Maybe it was because her condition (“a flow of blood”) made her ritually unclean and therefore socially isolated. Maybe it was because the press of the crowd was too great, and all she could reach was the hem of Jesus’ robe. What is clear is that she possessed the same kind of faith as the four men who dug through a roof to bring their friend to Jesus.

“Daughter,” Jesus addressed her. “Your faith has made you well. Go in peace and be free of your suffering.” She was not an anonymous face in the crowd. Nor was she an obstacle in his way. She was a daughter worthy of his time and attention. She was worth stopping for.

Whether you’re in a literal crowd today or not, try to be aware of those times when you get “tunnel vision”—when your focus on where you want to go blinds you to others’ needs, or even makes you see their needs as obstacles to your objectives. Remind yourself that there’s a huge difference between pushing and touching. Try to be more aware of how your life touches others, and resolve to make that touch gracious and compassionate.  

Help me, O God, to be less “crowded” in my thinking. Help me to make space for those who enter my thoughts, especially those who might need some grace and compassion. May I honor their requests for my time and attention, and thereby make space for You as well. Amen.

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Holding Onto Hope for the Ones We Love

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Finding Life in Dead Places