The Kingdom Movement

A Literary & Pastoral Study Guide to the Gospel of Matthew

The Inspiration of Matthew,

by Caravaggio

On the King's Errand

Devotional Reflections on Matthew's Gospel

Do You See Yourself?:  Mt.9:18 – 26

^9:18 While he was saying these things to them, a synagogue official came and bowed down before him, and said, ‘My daughter has just died; but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.’ ¹⁹ Jesus got up and began to follow him, and so did his disciples. ²⁰ And a woman who had been suffering from a hemorrhage for twelve years, came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak; ²¹ for she was saying to herself, ‘If I only touch his garment, I will get well.’ ²² But Jesus turning and seeing her said, ‘Daughter, take courage; your faith has made you well.’ At once the woman was made well. ²³ When Jesus came into the official’s house, and saw the flute-players and the crowd in noisy disorder, ²⁴ he said, ‘Leave; for the girl has not died, but is asleep.’ And they began laughing at him. ²⁵ But when the crowd had been sent out, he entered and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. ²⁶ This news spread throughout all that land.

          Donald Miller, in his book Blue Like Jazz, writes about a conversation he had with a friend, Tony, after watching the news about the violence happening in the Congo.

“It’s terrible,” I told him.  “Two and a half million people, dead.  In one village they interviewed about fifty of so women.  All of them had been raped, most of them numerous times.”

Tony shook his head.  “That is amazing.  It is so difficult to process how things like that can happen.”

“I know.  I can’t get my mind around it.  I keep wondering how people could do things like that.”

“Do you think you could do something like that, Don?” Tony looked at me pretty seriously.  I honestly couldn’t believe he was asking the question.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Are you capable of murder or rape or any of the stuff that is taking place over there?”

“No.”

“So you are not capable of any of those things?” he asked again.  He packed his pipe and looked at me to confirm my answer.

“No, I couldn’t,” I told him.  “What are you getting at?”

“I just want to know what makes those guys over there any different from you and me.  They are human.  We are human.  Why are we any better than them, you know?”

Tony had me on this one.  If I answered his question by saying yes, I could commit those atrocities, that would make me evil, but if I answered no, it would suggest I believed I am better evolved than some of the men in the Congo.  And then I would have some explaining to do.  (Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz, Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003, p.16 – 17)

The question I think Jesus raises for us is:  When we see someone do something sinful, or ‘unclean,’ or evil, do you see yourself in them? 

Jesus helped the very ‘respectable and put together’ synagogue official see himself in the outcast, unclean woman.  Compare the way the synagogue official would have thought about his daughter and the bleeding woman:

But Jesus is probably thinking, ‘C’mon!  Connect the dots here!  On the deepest level, you and your daughter are just as unclean, sinful, and corrupted by evil as the hemorrhaging woman is.  She may be an outsider under the Jewish cleanliness laws, but when it comes to God’s love and purity, you are a total outsider to Him.  There is no real difference between you.  Look at this table:

His own ‘daughter’ is now connected to, and interpreted by, the bleeding woman that Jesus called ‘daughter.’  Socially and ceremonially, the Jewish official and his daughter are ‘clean,’ on the ‘inside’ of Israelite society; whereas the bleeding woman is ‘unclean,’ on the ‘outside.’  Yet as the story unfolds, a reversal happens:  the hemorrhaging woman is on the inside of the story (i.e. the middle of the story), and the Jewish leader and his daughter are on the outside (i.e. the before and after).  This is exactly what Jesus wanted the synagogue official to consider.  The obviously unclean daughter is the ‘inside’ story of the apparently clean daughter.  In the mind of the synagogue official, and just as powerfully in the structure of the text, the two stories are bound together. 

Inside our story is sandwiched the stories of many other broken people who reveal what humanity truly is:  broken and corrupted.  So let’s not be outraged when politicians abuse power, when another kid bullies your child, when construction workers swear, when police officers break the law, and when your friends and family stab you in the back.  Don’t be aghast and surprised.  Don’t vilify certain people and claim that they are the problem.  Don Miller’s friend Tony asked, ‘I just want to know what makes those guys over there any different from you and me.  They are human.  We are human.  Why are we any better than them, you know?’  Lord willing, a measure of anger is sometimes appropriate, and it’s often appropriate to seek justice.  But when you read the newspaper about the criminals and cranks, or when you think about those people you are tempted to despise, don’t distance yourself from them.  Be reminded that under all of our outward appearances, they tell your story, too.  We are all alienated from God.  If Jesus did not change human nature and reconcile it with his own divine nature, we would have no access to God, and no intimacy with God.