While he was saying these things to them, suddenly a leader of the synagogue came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died; but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” And Jesus got up and followed him, with his disciples. Then suddenly a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, for she said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.”
Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And instantly the woman was made well. When Jesus came to the leader’s house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, he said, “Go away; for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. And the report of this spread throughout that district.
New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989, by the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. USCCB approved.
One of our favorite bands came to town late this spring after canceling their last show here. My wife and I had seats just above the floor, and we spotted some friends standing near the stage just before the show started.
They came over to share that they’d just talked with the head of security. He related to them that the fluorescent markings on the floor just inches in front of us were indicators of where the band would walk amongst the crowd during part of the show.
Needless to say, we were giddy with excitement.
As I reflect on our anticipation and eventual face-to-face encounter with “rock-star royalty,” I nearly blush at the thought of the woman from today’s Gospel, whose faith was so powerful that she might have “rushed the stage,” if only to graze the tassel of Jesus’s cloak.
If I were to reach towards Jesus today, what would I want him to know?
—Corey Quinn is the president of De Smet Jesuit High School in St. Louis.
At land’s end, end of tether
where the sea turns in sleep
and my spirit fails and runs
landward, seaward, askelter
I pray you
this hireling heart
turn your face to me
– winged, majestic, angelic –
my prayer goest up –
show me your face, O God!
—Daniel Berrigan, SJ