The Power of Healing Touch
Scripture: Luke 8:40-56 Rev. Richard H. Thompson, March 21, 2010

A friend and I have a little ritual we do every Sunday on his way out of church. We shake hands. But then we hold on. In fact, we squeeze each other's hands hard, while we smile into each other's eyes. In the beginning I think we were competing to see who would give up first. But now, I think it's more than that. We're glad to connect this way-manna a manno-brother to brother. It's real. It still makes us smile, and compliment each other's grip ("My word Clint, you been out chopping wood again?")

My father taught me how to shake hands. He used to tell me when I was a little boy, "Son, when you shake hands, don't hand anyone a dead fish."

Because shaking hands is supposed to mean something. It's supposed to make an impression (sometimes even on your hands!) Shaking hands used to mean, "Look, I have no knife. You're safe. No worries. We can talk." Now it means, I'm here. Fully present.

A friend passed along to me a study on the effect of hand shaking. They found that limp handshakes elicit, "Significantly lower credibility than a firm or extra firm hand shake", whether with women or men. As the study put it, "Hands, it seems, suggest a great deal more than many of us care to reveal..."

The study goes on to note that what a handshake means depends on how we interpret "touch". Touch has the potential to increase self-disclosure, or the regard for another person, to elicit help and generosity, and warmth. Maybe that's what we mean when we say, "He touched me with that song", or, "Let's keep in touch". In other words/ouch can inspire connection, and trust.

And when there's trust, the Lord knows all kinds of things become possible.

For example, listen...

Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. Just then there came a man named Jairus, a leader of the synagogue. He fell at Jesus' feet and begged him to come to his house, for he had an only daughter, about twelve years old, who was dying. As he went, the crowds pressed in on him. Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years; and though she had spent all she had on physicians, no one could cure her. She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his clothes, and immediately her hemorrhage stopped. Then Jesus asked, "Who touched me?" When all denied it, Peter said, "Master, the crowds surround you and press in on you." But Jesus said, "Someone touched me; for I noticed that power had gone out from me." When the woman saw that she could not remain hidden, she came trembling; and falling down before him, she declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace." While he was still speaking, someone came from the leader's house to say, "Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the teacher any longer." When Jesus heard this, he replied, "Do not fear. Only believe, and she will be saved." When he came to the house, he did not allow anyone to enter with him, except Peter, John, and James, and the child's father and mother. They were all weeping and wailing for her; but he said, "Do not weep; for she is not dead but sleeping." And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. But he took her by the hand and called out, "Child, get up!" Her spirit returned, and she got up at once. Then he directed them to give her something to eat. Her parents were astounded; but he ordered them to tell no one what had happened.

So Jesus and his little band of followers disembarked on the western shore in Galilee from their, this time uneventful, sail over from the land of the Gerasenes. A crowd welcomed him home, among them a leader of the synagogue by the name of Jairus who was desperate to talk to Jesus. His twelve year old daughter, his only child, was dying. "Please", he begged at Jesus' feet, "Come now!"

The crowd it seems could hardly wait to see how Jesus would respond. With every step Jesus took toward Jairus' house he was shoulder to shoulder, bumping into people front and behind, like a rock star making his way to the stage.

Sometimes "touch" can be like that. It can have no more significance than just bumping into each other. It's accidental contact, like in an anonymous crowd of people pouring out of a theater. We do the best we can to avoid contact, especially in the days of swine flu. But sometimes it still happens that we "run into" someone. All we can do is say, "Excuse me."

[I wonder, is it possible to just "bump into" Jesus?]

"Touch" in the Bible has special significance. In the passage we just heard read from Exodus 19 the Lord tells Moses to tell the people, "Be careful not go up to the mountain or to TOUCH the edge of it. Any who TOUCH the mountain shall be put to death." Wow. That sounds harsh, doesn't it? What's this about? It's about preparing the people for a divine encounter, to help everyone get it about the importance of contact with God, and what touch means, to take "touch" very seriously. That when we touch we are getting personal. It's about teaching us to be "intentional" about our touch. That touch is about presence. It's what my father was trying to tell me about shaking hands. That in touch something gets conveyed, or transferred back and forth from one to another. Touch implies a decision about where I put myself, for which I am accountable, where I am useful, or not.

As opposed to touch drained of any meaning at all, reduced to "bumping", so that physical contact has no significance. It's what happens in our culture with sex for example. It gets emptied of any meaning so that sex is as about as significant as having a hamburger, with fries. Our culture says, "Sex is no big deal", while the Bible says, "No, sex is a very big deal."

So is touch.

In the Old Testament touch can make a person unclean. So don't touch certain animals, or dead people, or tombs. An angel "touches" Jacob's thigh and it is thrown out of joint. God touches people to change their hearts.

There was a woman in the crowd pressing on Jesus as he walked to Jairus' home.

We're told she suffered abnormal menstrual flow for twelve years. This means first of all that she felt awful. It also means she was ritually unclean, which means she could not have any direct contact with her own family, or her village, which means no one could touch her, or had ever touched her for twelve years! No human touch... for twelve years. Know anybody like her? Maybe not. Because they're invisible. And when someone becomes invisible, they become "untouchable". Or is it the other way around?

I think of the isolation units in hospitals where before you go in to visit you have to put on the gloves, the mask, the gown. But there are others, aren't there? People we don't want to be around, who make us uncomfortable because of how they look, or how they behave, or how they speak, or what they believe.

It's what illness does. Or depression, or failure in marriage, or in a job. It's ironic that when things go south a common response is to pull away-to "isolate" ourselves and to become "untouchable". I really struggle with this as a pastor. Aren't we supposed to be the kind of place that accepts people wherever they are? Whatever is happening?

How can we trust that this be that kind of place? How can we become more like Jesus?

This woman must have known she had no business even being in that crowd that day. She had no business even thinking about what she was about to do. But there was no other way. Maybe that's why she reached her hand to touch just the hem of Jesus' robe. Maybe, she told herself, this was a compromise. Get as close to Him as possible, without making Him unclean. But close enough to be healed.

The instant she touched his robe something happened. "Immediately," Luke says, "Her hemorrhage stopped."

How did this happen? That's what we all want to know, isn't it? How? Because if we could understand how this woman got well, maybe we'd understand how we can get well, or how to help others we know, and even people we don't know, get well (help), too.

Here's how.

Jesus stopped in his tracks and asked, "Who touched me?' Peter was flabbergasted, "Boss, are you kidding? Who touched you? In this crowd, who hasn't touched you?"

But Jesus could tell the difference. Jesus can tell the difference, between unintentional, meaningless bumping, and "touch". Touch that connects, touch that brings personal presence, where something gets passed from one to another, touch that establishes a relationship, that bonds two together. Jesus could tell what just happened. "Someone touched me; for I noticed that power just now has gone out from me."

"Power". The Greek word is "dunamis". Dynamite. Strength. Like something you plug into.

What kind of power is this? It's the same as asking, " How does God love us?" And in order to answer we have to remember what Jesus has been showing us about how God loves us because this is really about God's power to love us.

God's love can sometimes be so powerful that it's unnerving, it breaks through our resistance, it puts us back into our right minds. God's love makes it possible to love even our enemies, and to receive, and give forgiveness. God's love has the power to make us whole in mind, body, soul, and community and in the hands of people get well.

All of this flowed into this woman when she touched Jesus. Power flowed from the Lord Jesus into her life. And she couldn't hide any more. I don't think she wanted to hide any more. I don't think Jesus wanted her to hide any more, either.

Because not only did Jesus love this woman. He also loved the crowd who up to this point only bumped into him, who as yet still did not realize who Jesus was, why he had come, and what he was about to do, for them all, and for every single one of us. It was time for her to tell what happened, not to Jesus, but to everyone there.

It's why we need to share our stories of getting well with each other. I asked this past week for examples of how people had been touched by God's love, and many responded.

Stories of laying on hands in prayers of healing. Of gathering together in a circle around a good friend as he passed into the Lord's presence. Of "Moms in Touch" praying with each other for their kids, of giving and receiving forgiveness.

Jesus taught us all something about how the power of loving touch works when he said to the woman, "Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace."

Meaning, it's not just the personal touch. Nor is it how the touch is done, as in by a certain method. That this is not some ritual magic. Because the Lord knows how quickly we can go off on thinking it's about touching that exact same spot on the hem of his robe. So ask him for his robe. Keep it in safe place. Enshrine it. Bring it out for only special occasions. That's how we tend to think. We go for technique and quickly lose sight of what this is really about-touching that means something. That what made this woman's touch powerful, what makes any of our touch powerful is the touch that connects her, that connects us, and the people we love, to Him, not his robe!

Because only He has the power to heal, to make us whole, to "save" us. Because He is the Source. And there is power flowing, the power of God's love, pouring out constantly from Him-whether we know it or not.

But the thing is, He wants the world to know. Because this is only the beginning.

I asked, "How?" How can this power of God's love pour out on this world? The answer is, "through loving touch".

You and I are called the "Body of Christ". Look at your hands. Look at them not as your own hands, but as his hands. Look at them as the Boss' way to touch this world, one hurting soul at a time. It's not that your hands or mine are so special. It's that we trust Him to be there in that moment when we use these hands to "touch" a need.

We call it "hands on" ministry. You don't forget it when you've been touched with the power of God's love. When I was in seminary I came to an impasse. I seriously doubted my direction and this call to pastoral ministry. I fell into a funk. It felt like I as walking around in a fog of confusion. I made an appointment to meet with my adviser, a professor I had never met personally. I remember sitting in his small office with books and papers stacked everywhere, sharing my story, my questions, my doubts, my despair. He listened a long time. Then suddenly he said, "Brother! We must pray!" This is what I've never forgotten. He took me by both hands, manna a manno, in a firm grip, and he prayed with a passion that amazed me, "Lord Jesus! In the power of the Holy Spirit I pray for my brother. Fill him with your purpose. Clear his mind. Embolden and make courageous his timid heart. Show him your path, Lord. I know you will do this. I pray in the power of the name of Jesus! Amen!"

It was a powerful prayer. Not just because he had vice grip on my hands. Not because of his loud passionate voice. Not because he prayed so eloquently. But because he trusted the One to Whom he was praying. And his holding onto me in faith, made this prayer personal, and powerful to me. I've never forgotten it. And here I am, thirty years later, still pastoring!

The end of the story is that on his way to Jairus' house someone came up to Jesus to say, "Don't bother, the little girl has died." But Jesus quickly turned to Jairus and said, "Do not fear, only trust me. She will be saved." He pressed past the professional mourners weeping and wailing, and gave them a good laugh when he said, "She's just sleeping." Interesting that Jesus only wanted believers with him, Peter, James, John, and Jairus and his wife. In that little circle of faith, Jesus took the little girl by the hand, manna a manno, and he said to her, "Child, get up."

And that's what she did. She "got up". She "rose".

It's what Jesus wants us all to get. That the Risen Lord loves to touch people. That God's powerful love conquers even death.

I have two questions for you today.

Who needs a loving touch today?

Are your hands available?