What if we told the whole truth in our preaching, our praying, and our singing?
The truth that, in our society, those with status and power can come forward publicly to plead for help, while those without, especially those who have suffered greatly at the hands of the powerful, must grasp in secret at what little help they can get.
The truth that, like the disciples, we get impatient when some insignificant, unnamed person interrupts our very important work—and we’re surprised when Jesus stops everything to acknowledge that nameless one.
The truth that, when we are called out, it takes guts, courage, and faith—things we often don’t have—to come forward, to come clean, and speak our whole truth before a crowd that, if they knew our truth, would ostracize us.What if we told the whole truth in our preaching, our praying, and our singing? Click To Tweet
The truth that Jesus cares little for societal norms, for those who tell him who or what he can or cannot touch, who or what he should or shouldn’t pay attention to, for power or status or lack of it, for a world that ridicules him when he doesn’t accept what they say is truth.
Instead of blood, the whole truth flowed from the now-healed woman. And from Jesus, from whom power flowed, bidden and unbidden, a new truth came forth from his lips: “Daughter,” no longer unnamed and unseen are you.
This post was first published in “GIA Quarterly: A Liturgical Music Journal.”
Image credit: Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash.
Read more reflections on the Sunday readings here:
- The heart of the Eucharist
- Come and fill our hearts
- The slow work of the Spirit
- Listen for the Spirit
- Let’s be recognized