A Dead Girl and a Sick Woman (Matthew 9:18-26)

While he was saying this, a ruler came and knelt before him and said, “My daughter has just died. But come and put your hand on her, and she will live.” Jesus got up and went with him, and so did his disciples.

 Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.”

Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter,” He said, “your faith has healed you.” And the woman was healed from that moment.

When Jesus entered the ruler’s house and saw the flute players and the noisy crowd, he said “Go away. The girl is not dead but asleep.” But they laughed at him. After the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took the girl by the hand, and she got up. News of this spread through all that region.

- Matthew 9:18-26

My study of the Bible has been devoted to the Old Testament for at least a year now. Realizing how long it had been since I visited the Gospels, I began reading Matthew again a few weeks ago. I have been stalled on this passage for a day or two now, believing there is more to it that I need to think on. Writing has always been my best form of organized thinking, so I share my thoughts now here.

I never worked in retail until I was 28 years old. Of all the jobs I held–working in offices, working from home, going out to visit clients–being a Specialist at the Apple Store taught me the most about human nature. I learned more at that job about how to listen and react to people than in any of my previous positions. In large part, this was because of the way God himself has opened me to hearing and responding to others’ needs: something I have prayed for and received directly and undeniably these last few months. Day by day I was either helping customers with problems myself or directing them toward those with solutions. So as I studied it, the immediacy and urgency of this scene began to become apparent to me. It’s almost like Jesus was a Concierge: first he had the ruler come ask him for a house call; then the woman comes and touches his cloak to be healed. This happens very often in the Gospels: Jesus is followed by crowds who demand, ask, plead to be healed or to have their loved ones healed. Matthew is good at pointing out how ubiquitous these requests were: “While he was saying this…” (9:18); “Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him…” (9:20); “As Jesus went on from there, two blind men followed him…” (9:27); “While they were going out, a man who was demon possessed and could not talk was brought to Jesus…” (9:32). It’s non-stop. Matthew reminds us subtly that Jesus is also human: after he hears the news that his cousin John the Baptist has been beheaded, he retreats to find some solace in solitude. But the crowds follow him. Rather than giving in to what was surely extreme emotional and spiritual fatigue, Jesus “had compassion on them and healed their sick.”

My current job is all about process. I create repeatable processes for others to follow in order for us all to save time and money documenting the way we write and manage software. So it fascinates me that  Jesus does not mandate a particular way to be healed.

In the passage above, a ruler first comes and kneels before him. This demonstrates Jesus’ position as king of kings, and also tells us much about the heart of the ruler who came to see him. For better or worse, he had been broken enough to submit himself to someone he knew, or at least suspected, could help him. So he comes to Jesus and asks him to visit his house in order to heal his daughter. Now, to me the Bible is almost two books. It’s like matter and anti-matter, because what it does not say often holds as much poignancy as what it says outright. A chapter previous, Jesus was confronted by the Roman centurion who asks him to heal his servant. When Jesus offers freely to come and heal the servant, the centurion says no: he is not worthy for Christ to come under his roof. He states that Jesus can heal the man from where he’s standing. Jesus is amazed at his faith, and commends him highly–and of course, the miracle is done at that moment.

When this ruler comes to him, however, Jesus doesn’t say, “You know, a centurion just came to me and I healed his servant right from here–bam, done. I could just do the same for you, and we’d save the trip.” The text doesn’t even say he responded verbally. He didn’t ask any questions at all. Jesus just goes. He meets the man where he is, at the level of faith he has in that moment.

Likewise, when the woman touches his cloak, her healing is done immediately. The other Gospels state that Jesus immediately “realized that power had gone out from him.” Was this the Father deciding to perform the healing through him, without his prior knowledge? Was it simply a product of Jesus’ presence and the innate power within him as God, that a woman who touched his clothes in faith would be healed immediately? Whatever the reason God decided to heal her, it’s undeniable that she had put her own spin on it: and God accepted it as faith. That fact intrigues me without end.

Several other instances in the Gospels attest to Jesus’ many ways of healing. He heals the blind by touching their eyes, or by spitting in the mud and rubbing it on their eyes. He heals from afar, and by touch and prayer. He sometimes asks people, “Do you want to be healed?” (John 5:6)–and then, sometimes he simply heals them. To some he asks, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” (Matthew 9:28). Others seem to need no confirmation. I love this about our God. He is One, and yet within him is the capacity to meet all of us in–even through–our own infirmities. After all, “He took up our infirmities / and carried our diseases” (Isaiah 53:4).

The rest of this story evinces Jesus’ boldness in the face of social pressures. Imagine walking into a friend’s funeral and saying, “Why are you all crying? Jennifer’s not dead: she’s just sleeping.” The mourners would probably react with horror at your callousness; to Jesus’ assertion, they laughed. When he enters the ruler’s house, it’s right in the middle of the funeral. It must have taken immense courage to walk in and claim that he was going to heal her, especially amidst a family he didn’t know personally. Yet he did.

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