where’s jesus?

I’ve been thinking today about the Jesus of the gospels and the church and how everything relates to the community I live in. I think something’s missing from the church, or maybe there’s too much getting in the way.

Reading Luke 8:40-48 and Matthew 9:18-22 has sparked all this off. Here was a woman who was suffering from “a hemorrhage for twelve years” [8:43 NLT], who was marginalised from people and the so-called religious (because she was deemed unclean), who had probably gone through more emotional and physical grief than I can imagine… and who was desperate to get to Jesus, to feel him… no, not even, just grace a touch of his robe.

She needed no invitation. The masses of people crowding round Jesus [c.f. 8:45] blocking him from view, even from reach, did not deter her. The judging glares, cold and stiff shoulders, and callous remarks from those she had to squeeze past to get to Jesus did not dampen her desperation, her utter desperation to get near to Jesus… to reach out and just touch him.

To me, that is such a powerful scene (and damning indictment of my own failing to show Jesus as he is through my own life). I believe that the marginalised in my community are desperate for Jesus, though they might cover it up with a stoicism and/or aversion typical of Northen Irish culture. I believe these precious, dear, created-in-the-image-of-God people long for compassion, friendship, welcome, healing and more… and they lament day and daily that they don’t have it.

How have we so badly savaged the body of Jesus – the church – that it is unrecognisable to those who are crying out for a glimpse of him? Or how have we dressed it up that it is unrecognisable to those who yearn to reach out and touch him and feel his warmth, but not the nice stuff we’ve wrapped around him?