Touching Jesus

Often, when I'm waiting in line at the grocery store, I read the covers of celebrity magazines.

I know--not a good idea. But as a lifelong reader, it's not exactly voluntary. I tend to read everything in sight.

And as I look at the people on magazine covers, I wonder why anybody would want to be a celebrity. It seems they spend years waiting to be glorified by everyone, then the rest of their lives trying to get away from them! You'll see them in the photos, looking angry or surprised as they walk out of a restaurant and about half a hundred flashbulbs go off.

Pastors have a little of this going on. Not that we're celebrities by a long shot, but we are well known, and more popular than we deserve.

I'll be at the grocery store and someone who came to a service seven years ago will say, "Hi, Kelly!" Of course they remember me, I was the preacher. But I can't bring back a name. Problem: Do I offend them by asking their name, or do I say very quickly, "Hi how ya doin'?"

 Experience has taught me that the second course is preferable. Very preferable. This is one time honesty doesn't work!

Jesus suffered from his celebrity status. Here was a rabbi who treated common people, even obvious sinners, not only with respect but love. He was healing people instantly from incurable diseases. His teaching went straight to the heart and stayed there. People could remember his sermons!

The result was that he was crowded. The apostle Mark records a time when he and his disciples didn't even have time for a meal because there were so many people in the house (Mark 3:20).

Another time Jesus had to preach a sermon from a boat because the people were crowding him so tightly (Mark 4:1).

And then there was the woman, weak and sick, who took advantage of the crowding to be healed. What happened is told in Luke 8:42-46.

As Jesus accompanied a man named Jarius who begged him to heal his daughter, "...he was surrounded by the crowds. A woman in the crowd had suffered for twelve years with constant bleeding, and she could find no cure. Coming up behind Jesus, she touched the fringe of his robe. Immediately, the bleeding stopped.

"Who touched me?" Jesus asked.

Everyone denied it, and Peter said, "Master, this whole crowd is pressing up against you.'"

I can just see this. Jesus being jostled in all directions as everyone in this huge crowd stands on their toes just to see him, and reaches out to touch him. They could go home that night and say, "I touched Jesus!"

But this frightened woman squirms close enough to give a little touch to the hem of Jesus' robe, and she is healed.

Jesus is still standing. He says, "Someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me."

Trembling, the woman comes forward. And Jesus says, "Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace."

Because this was more than a physical touch. This woman believed in Jesus, needed Jesus, reached out desperately to Jesus--and was healed.

What would happen if we did the same?

So many people go to church, plant ourselves in the pew, sing a few songs (if they sing at all), hear a sermon and say, "I touched Jesus!"

But did they, really?

And we wonder why we're not healed.

There is another way. We can go to church preparing our minds to receive from Christ. We can sing directly to Jesus as we worship. We can pray as we put our offering in the plate, thanking God for all he has given, and offering this money for his glory. We can listen expectantly to the sermon, knowing the Holy Spirit will personally speak to us. We can go to midweek services. We can read the Word and pray all week, keeping ourselves in God's will as we seek to know him better and better.

Now that's touching Jesus!

And I've noticed that these are the people whose lives are healed.  

So now comes the question: Are you just going to church? Or are you touching Jesus?