Day 27 - Monday, March 15
Title: “SOMEONE TOUCHED ME”
Scripture: Luke 8:43-48
And a woman who had a hemorrhage for twelve years, and could not be healed by anyone, came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His cloak, and immediately her hemorrhage stopped. And Jesus said, “Who is the one who touched Me?” And while they were all denying it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing in on You.” But Jesus said, “Someone did touch Me, for I was aware that power had gone out of Me.” When the woman saw that she had not escaped notice, she came trembling and fell down before Him, and declared in the presence of all the people the reason why she had touched Him, and how she had been immediately healed. And He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”

Poetry: 
Heal the Cracks in the Bell of the World 
by Martín Espada

   For the community of Newtown, Connecticut,
   where twenty students and six educators lost their
   lives to a gunman at Sandy Hook Elementary
   School, December 14, 2012

Now the bells speak with their tongues of bronze.
Now the bells open their mouths of bronze to say:
Listen to the bells a world away. Listen to the bell
      in the ruins
of a city where children gathered copper shells like
      beach glass,
and the copper boiled in the foundry, and the bell
      born
in the foundry says: I was born of bullets, but now I
       sing
of a world where bullets melt into bells. Listen to the
      bell
in a city where cannons from the armies of the Great
      War
sank into molten metal bubbling like a vat of chocolate,
and the many mouths that once spoke the tongue
      of smoke
form the one mouth of a bell that says: I was born
      of cannons,
but now I sing of a world where cannons melt into
      bells.

Listen to the bells in a town with a flagpole on Main
      Street,
a rooster weathervane keeping watch atop the
      Meeting House,
the congregation gathering to sing in times of great
      silence.
Here the bells rock their heads of bronze as if to say:
Melt the bullets into bells, melt the bullets into bells.
Here the bells raise their heavy heads as if to say:
Melt the cannons into bells, melt the cannons into
      bells.
Here the bells sing of a world where weapons crumble
      deep
in the earth, and no one remembers where they were
      buried.
Now the bells pass the word at midnight in the ancient
      language
of bronze, from bell to bell, like ships smuggling news
      of liberation
from island to island, the song rippling through the
      clouds.

Now the bells chime like the muscle beating in every
      chest,
heal the cracks in the bell of every face listening to
      the bells.
The chimes heal the cracks in the bell of the moon.
The chimes heal the cracks in the bell of the world.

BELOVED ENCOUNTER: “SOMEONE TOUCHED ME”

A year ago, here in Spain, we entered strict lockdown. Schools shut, and all non-essential businesses closed. Activities and movement were highly restricted: groceries, pharmacies essential doctor visits and dog walking. Sadly, I have no dog. And I live alone. No exercising outdoors, no gatherings. Hospitals and morgues overflowed, and care home horror stories emerged. What a year it’s been as Covid spread worldwide and we have all continued to experience new waves with corresponding losses. 

And, of course pandemic hardships only exacerbated pre-existing challenges, personally and socially. Marriages and families struggled. Widespread social inequities burst the seams and the political scenes in many countries became severely strained. So how do we deal with both acute suffering and extended hardships?

Six months after the tragic shooting at Sandy Hook, Martín Espada encouraged the community of Newtown toward hope. Post WWI, in Rovereto, Italy, cannons were melted down to create the Bell of the Fallen, and in Tirana, Albania, after the civil war, children gathered spent shell casings to create the Bell of Peace. Listening to the poet recite his own work (online) you can almost hear in the cadence of his words the bells tolling out a longing for peace and redemption. But I hear longing without answer; where is hope realized? 

Witness the lonely woman in the crowd. 

I can hardly imagine her desolation, her degradation. Twelve years of suffering, weak and anemic, spending every last penny on cures that weren’t from physicians who made things worse (Mark 5:24-34). Twelve years of isolation, untouchability, contaminating anything or anyone she contacted. Twelve years of spiritual exclusion, unfit to approach the temple or participate in worship. 

I can imagine desperation driving her to seek help. Yet Mark clearly relates her thinking; “If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.” It is faith that drives her and hope residing in a person that draws her to risk communal wrath to reach God who is present and has a name--Jesus.

Daniel Cariola’s larger-than-life mural pulls us into the crush of the crowd, and into her bold, though surreptitious reach toward Jesus. In that moment, the fuel of her faith is met and ignited by the spark of His power; she is instantaneously healed! But physical healing was not enough. Jesus lovingly calls her out, exhibits her faith, and with authority, restores her right to social interaction and standing. And most importantly, he affirms her relationship and access to Himself; “daughter,” he calls her.

Such a beautiful, beloved encounter with Jesus, both in the sense of a story we cherish, but also as an encounter of Jesus with one he loves, and who loves him. It is in the beloved encounter that hope and healing became real.

Reflection:
Consider picturing yourself with Jesus either in this scene, or in your own unique circumstances.

What beloved encounter do you long for with Jesus? How might He be inviting you?

What sort of beloved encounters might be needed among others and how might you be called to participate?

Prayer: 
Lord, as you did for the woman in the crowd, fill us with faith, draw us with hope, meet us with love, Then, move us with compassion, empower us with courage, to do your good will in your world.
Amen

Debbie Schuster
Co-leader, SentWell Missionary Care Team 
Director, Deepen: Relational Spiritual Formation
For more information about the artwork, music, and poetry selected for this day, we have provided resources under the “About” tab located next to the “Devotional” tab.