COURAGE

Mark 5: 21-43

Sister Greta 

What I hear in today’s story of the hemorrhaging woman is a story of courage.  This woman was not about to quit on her journey of healing. She had been through 12 years of suffering and searching for relief. She would have been considered an outcast as women who were bleeding were in those days. She had spent all her money with no results. But on this day – the day Jesus is in town she has the courage to push through a crowd to reach for her salvation. She shows utter courage and determination to get from Jesus what she needs. She has utter faith that she will be made whole by one touch of his cloak.

   Last week I reflected on how Jesus does not rescue us or intercede for us but sustains us in our suffering. Yet today we are exploring how this woman knew – knew in the depths of her being that she would get the healing she longed for. And Jesus responded in the words he often says that her faith had healed her. It does seem that faith is the ingredient that sustains and can heal.

   Much of my life I did not have faith. In fact, I felt very alone out there in the world. I was trying hard to make things work and to succeed, but things did not go as I would have liked them to. I had big goals. I wanted to change the world and make it a fairer and more just place. I was an early feminist, and I went to Hollywood in the hope of making movies that told women’s stories with compassion – stories that might open people’s hearts to the need for equality. Well let me tell you, Hollywood was not exactly ready in the 1970’s to tell women’s stories.

   I gave up on Hollywood and started my own business. What I found was a ton of hard work and stress with modest results. My ambition was relentless. I felt that if I could just make enough money everything would work out. I thought that if I made a lot of money, then I could spend time being a generous person and care for others. I longed for the power and prestige that money and success offer.

   But this was not to be my path. Instead, I struggled and struggled some more, often crying myself to sleep worrying about paying the bills. I frame this now as the journey to my knees. I could no longer make it on my own. I finally cried out to God and asked for help. Not unlike an alcoholic finally admitting that life was unmanageable.

   Soon after a friend gave me a piece of paper and on it she had written the letters “SSJE,” and she said, “It’s a monastery.” The moment I heard that word I knew help had arrived. I was living in New York City then and I got in my car the very next day and drove to the Society of Saint John the Evangelist monastery way up at the top of Massachusetts to have a guided retreat. The moment I walked in I was met with stillness and a deep sense of peace, and a very kind monk. In the morning, I had a private session with this kind monk, and I cried as I told him all my sad stories. I admitted to him that I really didn’t know Jesus. He told me to go back to my little hermitage and sit across from an empty chair and imagine Jesus was in that chair and tell him all my burdens. I dutifully did this homework shedding another bucket of tears. Jesus did not show up.

   Finally, I laid down in bed and I suddenly felt that Jesus was sitting on the side of the bed. Not a real person but like what I might call the Cosmic Christ, more like a vibration field. I half sat up and was suddenly caught in a forcefield coming from the heart of Christ into my heart. I heard within, “First we must heal your heart.” Energy went into me and then it was over. And as I laid back, I knew that nothing would ever be the same. I had had a broken heart, and it was healed. Just like that I was made whole, and I was his.

   I slowly began to unravel the life of strife I had been living. I longed to live simply, so I gave away most of my belongings and moved to California. I lived in a room and prayed the daily prayers that monastics observe. Mostly the psalms. My ambition was gone now. I longed only to serve God.

   That was 2008, 16 years ago. And these have been the most rewarding years of my life.  I now understand that salvation is wholeness. I was broken and now I am whole. My faith indeed was born and then and now sustains me. The service I was called to feeds my soul and nourishes me.

   God called me to walk with the incarcerated and I have been walking into prisons for the past 16 years. It is here that I witness great suffering and great faith. I see the courage it takes to walk the path of healing. The men in my listening circles bravely share their stories, particularly the often-horrific childhoods that set them on the wrong path. I witness the courage it takes to open doors that have been closed for decades. I am awed by their desire to do better, to be better, and to make a living amends with society.  

   It takes courage to set off like the woman in the gospel story. She knew where to find her healing and she had the faith to follow through. She pushed her way through the crowd to get her hand on that cloak. And the power of the divine flowed from him into her and made her whole.

   This is courage and this is faith – a powerful combination.