Homily 710 – 23APE
Holy Transfiguration Orthodox Church, Ames, Iowa
November 8, 2026
Epistle:  (220) Ephesians 2:4-10 and (305) Hebrews 2:2-10
Gospel:  (39) Luke 8:41-56 and (51) Luke 10:16-21

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, One God.

Today’s reading from the Gospel is kinda chaotic.  There is a lot of stuff happening.  You have the ruler of the synagogue, Jairus, asking Christ to save his young daughter.  Then, in the middle of this scene, a sick woman enters the picture.

I never would diminish either, but I feel like the story of Jairus and his young daughter, who is brought back to life is pretty self-explanatory.  We can, on some level, understand the fear, the anxiety, the tragedy of Jairus.  But there is more to the story of the woman that maybe isn’t obvious, and deserves some thought.

Basically, in a word, the story of the woman is one of utter desperation.  To understand that desperation, we need to consider the impact her condition has had on her life.

We can’t say with any certainty what the condition was.  We know it involves loss of blood.  So, physically, the woman likely experienced anemia – low iron.  The diet itself isn’t helpful.  Most of the diet is based on grains – wheat and barley, with some beans, lentils, olives, figs, and a bit of dairy and wine.  So not a lot of iron anyway in the diet.

Then, losing blood means that the iron that they do have is reduced further.  This woman, for over a decade – twelve years – hadn’t just experienced blood loss, but also the symptoms of anemia.  She was chronically exhausted, most likely.  She was probably pale, experienced muscle cramps frequently, along with maybe shortness of breath.

Physically, this was her life.  But the physical aspect may be the easiest for her.

What the woman experienced emotionally and societally was I suspect, way worse.  Jews were not allow to come into contact with blood, nor contact with people who were bleeding.  These people were ritually impure, and prevented any participation in religious life.

To be clear – religious life was extremely important to that society.  It wasn’t just religion.  It was family.  It was society.  It was pretty much everything.

So this woman was very much the pariah – even like a leper.  She had no closeness in her life.  Everyone was distant.

Then, to double down on that, her very relationship to God was very nearly non-existent.  What would it be like to not be able to experience the things that you believed necessary for your own existence?

You couldn’t go to the temple.  You couldn’t offer the required sacrifices.  You couldn’t even enter the places to pray.

Outside of work, this was the remainder of existence for that era.  There wasn’t anything else.  You worked, whatever your job was, and you did whatever your particular religion demanded of you, and you spent time with family and friends.

There was no entertainment.  There were plays, perhaps, or music perhaps, but those were typically for the wealthy and not the general population.  I don’t think the sons of Thunder were taking in a show after fishing all night.

Two of those three things – your religion, and your association with others in society, were not possible for this woman.  For twelve years she was the one sitting outside the community, watching others at the wedding or the bar mitzvah or the bris.  She probably couldn’t attend the family seder every Friday night.

Think of the loneliness of this woman.  Then think of the physical discomfort.  For twelve years.

Her life for that 12 years was going from doctor to doctor to find a treatment and cure for this affliction.  I imagine the modern-day equivalent is spending one’s life savings going from doctor to doctor, traveling the world, in search of something that in all likelihood didn’t exist.

Her life was a series of getting one’s hopes up – over, and over, and over – for them to be again and again dashed.  In today’s world it might be an experimental treatment in Thailand or Mexico, or perhaps a session with a native in Peru, or a Hindu guru in Nepal or Tibet.

So, now that you are hopefully experiencing and empathizing with this woman, we need to now consider what this means for us.  Because these readings don’t just exist to tell us a story.

What this account provides for us, today, is a model of faith.  A model of hope.  That when all else has failed, and it surely will, Christ is faithful.  Christ heals this woman, but maybe more importantly, Christ reaches out and embraces this woman in her need, her loneliness, her fatigue.

I might be wrong, but in my opinion it is more than this woman simply believing that Christ would heal her, even though she obviously did believe that.  It was her taking a risk – she reached out, stepping over the precipice of the cliff, knowing that her last hopes might be dashed, but stepping out nonetheless.

She went against every single societal norm.  Every standard of normal behavior.  She knew she would be cast away in every other context.  But Jesus didn’t cast her away.  He could have let her be anonymous, but chose instead to allow her to be a beacon of hope to everyone who was outside of the societal norms.

She experienced something in Jesus that was accepting.  Even then, Christ gave her the choice to come forward – He obviously knew who had been healed, but gave her the opportunity to be quiet if she chose.

She took the better path, in my view, and acknowledged her experience.  We too, in faith, need to experience Christ, and to not be afraid of what the world, our society, thinks.  We need to touch Christ, to find healing, and to tell the world that Christ can heal them also – completely, not just physically.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, One God. Glory to Jesus Christ!