A Demoniac, a Religious Man and a Sick Woman Walk Into a Bar…
When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him… Then one of the synagogue leaders, named Jairus, came, and when he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet… When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak… Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth.
Mark 5:6, 22, 27, 33 (NIV)
We’ve all heard a joke about three people walking into a bar. “A Catholic priest, a Protestant pastor and a Jewish rabbi walk into a bar…” the tale begins. In Mark 5, we meet three characters entangled in the pain and suffering of life. Sadly, their stories are no joke: a man driven mad by demons, a father desperate for his dying daughter and a woman whose body was betraying her. Each needed a miracle.
This morning I noticed something the demon-possessed man, the anguished father and the unnamed sick woman share beyond their desperate need for Jesus and his miracle-working power. It was the posture of their bodies as they came to him. Look again at the four verses above. The Gerasene demoniac fell on his knees before his Deliverer. Jairus, a religious leader, fell at his feet and begged the gentle Healer to restore his dying daughter. The woman, a spiritual and social outcast after twelve years of illness, bravely reached out and touched his cloak, and then, trembling, fell at the Master’s feet. Their posture expressed both their hopeless situation and their humble approach to the Master.
These three desperate people in Mark 5 remind me of “The Prayer of Humble Access” from the communion liturgy. The prayer reads:
We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy: Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his most precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.
These three had what my AA friends call “the gift of desperation.” The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous compares early members seeking recovery to people drowning: “We, in our turn, sought the same escape with all the desperation of drowning men.” A drowning person does not debate or negotiate. They grab whatever life preserver is thrown to them.
Recently, God has gently and kindly shown me deeper areas of my brokenness and my need for his healing and deliverance. His revelations are not meant to shame me but to heal me. Left to myself, I want to hide or run away. But grace keeps drawing me closer into the delivering and healing presence of Jesus. Almost 49 years into my apprenticeship to Jesus, my sanctification continues. I expect that in the weeks and months ahead, new revelations will bring new possibilities for wholeness in my life. At the kind insistence of a soul friend, I have begun meeting with a Christian counselor who will walk with me through this new season. This is my lowly posture before Jesus: admitting my need to God, to myself and to a trusted friend.
So, what might this mean for you? Where are you being given the gift of desperation? Are you coming to Jesus with humble access? What next step toward healing might the Holy Spirit be inviting you to take?
In 1988, singer-songwriter Michael Card wrote and recorded “The Gentle Healer,” a simple two-minute song about Jesus. The lyrics and a video are below. As you listen, let the words wash over you. Let the Gentle Healer both reveal and heal your brokenness.
The gentle healer came into our town today
He touched blind eyes and the darkness left to stay
But more than the blindness, He took their sins away
The gentle healer came into our town today
The gentle healer came into our town today
He spoke one word, that was all He had to say
And the one who had died just rose up straight away
The gentle healer came into our town today
Oh He seems like just an ordinary man
With dirty feet and rough, but gentle hands
But the words He says are hard to understand
And yet He seems like just an ordinary man
The gentle healer, He left our town today
I just looked around and found He'd gone away
Some folks from town who followed Him, they say
That the gentle healer is the truth, the life, the way