I'd like to focus on one point from this gospel reading, specifically the incident involving the woman who for twelve years was afflicted with hemorrhages: "If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured", she said to herself, and she did just that and was cured. Jesus said to her: "Your faith has saved you".
This was not a faith in dogmatic statements, or an intellectual assent to certain theological propositions or dogmas. It was belief that this man could heal her, a faith that all things are possible with him. But what is particularly interesting is that Jesus felt power (Gk: dunamin: ability) had gone out from him. This means he became weaker; he was depleted to a certain extent. In other words, her healing was at Jesus' expense. He had to become less for her to become more. This is a fundamental law or pattern of healing. If others are to become more through us, we will have to become less. And that is why this depletion, this weakening for the sake of healing the other will achieve its fullness on Good Friday, when Christ dies completely depleted and utterly abandoned: "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me". This is the mystery of our redemption: Jesus, who is God, is abandoned by God. God the Son experiences complete abandonment by God the Father, and the fruit of this abandonment is the healing of all humanity, past, present and future, that is, the redemption of the human race; the forgiveness of sins: "...unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit" (Jn 12, 24).
There are so many images and instances of this law all around us. Think of a candle: it provides light and warmth, but it can only do so when it is lit, and when lit, the candle begins to burn, to melt and deplete, becoming smaller and smaller. The heat of the candle slowly destroys it. If the candle were to decide to preserve itself at all costs, to maintain itself, it would always look new, tall, handsome and wholesome, like the new Easter candle, but it would never give off light and warmth.
Think of a woman who carries a child for nine months and gives birth; if she does this enough times, it becomes more and more difficult for her to maintain a youthful figure. After a while, she is too busy raising her children for her to worry about her looks, at least the way she looked as a young woman. Again, to bring life to another has a cost to the self.
The vocation of teacher is also a call to bring healing and life to one's students, but teaching is highly stressful, so much so that many people leave the profession. It's hard for people on the outside to understand that, but every teacher knows the stress, and sufferings, the hard knocks that are a daily part of their lives. But if a teacher were to organize her own life in a way that minimizes or eliminates that suffering-which I have seen often enough over the course of my career-, she would ultimately end up not having done a great deal of good for others, like a candle that refuses to burn. And of course, it is the same with nurses and caregivers.
It is very natural for us to try to organize our lives in order to eliminate suffering, difficulties, stress, things that weaken and deplete us, and many take this road, but the fruit of this is a life that gives off very little light and warmth. Unfortunately, there are spiritualities in the Church that put this forth as a principal goal, namely, to achieve a state of continual peace of mind, and to use "peace of mind" as a criterion for determining what course of action to take-"If a course of action will not bring you peace, then it is not the will of God for you". But that of course flies in the face of everything we know about Christ from Scripture, who said "anyone who wishes to be a follower of mine, let him take up his cross and follow me", or, do not think I have come to bring peace, but a sword, or, when he said to Peter: "...when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go" (Jn 21, 18), or, blessed are those who are persecuted, hated, ridiculed, on my account, rejoice and be glad; or, do not take the road that is smooth, wide and easy, the road that many take, the road that leads to perdition, rather, take the narrow way that few people are attracted to.
And so, we need not be afraid of suffering, difficulties, and the stress that slowly depletes us, because these are the signs that we share in the life and death of Christ and that our life is truly life giving. At the end of our lives, we will look back at those sufferings, disappointments, and stresses and assure ourselves that if we had to do it all again, we'd change nothing. Our only regret will be that we had put too many limits on how deeply we were willing to share in Christ's way of the cross.