This week I had the privilege of speaking again in my hometown–this time at a place that tops my list of most favorite places down here; I spoke at a college. I love institutions of higher education, and I think I always have. I find there a sort of special energy for the present moment as well as an undeniable hope for future moments. And I simply cannot remember a time when I did not view myself as both a student and a teacher. And now, several decades after growing up very near this lovely campus, I found myself there sharing content that still feels so very far from my reach, from the scope of my ability, from the person I actually thought myself to be.
The message I shared in chapel Tuesday morning, “Jesus and One Nameless Woman,” is about that woman in Scripture who was healed from her issue of blood after she reached out and touched the clothes on the body of Christ. I must say I was intrigued with this story even before being diagnosed with blood cancer; and now, well, my connection with this woman and her Savior has moved far beyond fascination. I’ve owned this story so much I found myself bothered a few weeks ago when I read a commentary in which the writer referred to this woman’s faith as a mere superstitious one. I then felt a little guilty for questioning this because the person who penned it is something I’m not–he is someone who has studied theology in the academic realm. As I pondered what he had said, I decided to let myself believe for just one moment that he is right; so, would that change the story? The impact of it? The truth of it? The changes I’ve witnessed in my own soul after believing, on some inexplicable level, I am simply a contemporary version of that woman?
My answer’s “No.” My answer is, even if this person’s right regarding the origin of this woman’s faith, Jesus embraced her all the same. Both the quality and the quantity of our faith, as long as we’re in this world the way it is now, will always be sorely lacking; the object of our faith is the real game-changer. The words we so often hear in “church” circles are echoing in my head now–“just as I am.” That is the beauty of unconditional love, the type of love I believe we can only find one place–that God-man Jesus.
As I looked out at the chapel attendees Tuesday, I saw a few friends visiting from the community, students taking copious notes (for the reflection paper the Chaplain had required them to do), former colleagues from my days as a public school educator, a former high school teacher (of mine), my husband and daughter, and some lovely new faces of other faculty/staff and community members. And I felt a tremendous sense of gratitude for each and every person there. And I felt thankful to/for God, and I felt God holding me up and filling in the blanks as I found myself stepping out yet again to do something I am finally beginning to realize I should never feel completely comfortable doing down here.
No, I do not want to take any of this for granted, most especially Him. And I see now, contrary to what most seem to think, I haven’t stepped out of higher education at all. I actually entered in to it the very first time I came “clean” publicly about my faith in Christ, as I do not believe there exists any education higher, more impactful, more enlightening, than Holy Scripture. Yes, I am teaching in higher education. And no, I don’t feel any more qualified to do so than I imagine that bleeding, “unclean” woman of old felt qualified to show up and reach out and touch the likes of Jesus Christ Himself. Again, that’s the beauty of life once Jesus becomes your significant other–life is no longer about you and your limitations at all; it’s instead all about Him.
Once again, thought provoking comments. You certainly know how to keep us thinking/exploring. Superstitious? I think not. Superstitions were rampart in her time of life. She was desperate and I believe she would have tried them all.
She then began hearing miraculous stories about this most special person. I think she believed the good news and had faith in the man named, Jesus, Son of God.
Many find Jesus when they feel they can suffer no more, can no longer handle their particular burdens. They have tried all and are desperate. In the end they turn to the one who was there for them from the very beginning! Our Lord and Savior.
I do agree the avenues we travel to find Him are of no importance, only arrival at our destination.
Well-said, Anne! I sense that you too have some rather passionate feelings about that woman of old. Thank you for continuing to read and for sharing your thoughts. I’m so glad God takes us where/how we are! And you’re right-getting to him is all that matters.