The Touch of Faith
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"Who touched Me? Somebody has touched Me." Luke 8:45, 46
"Master, the multitudes throng and pressing against You, and yet You say: Who touched Me?" In all that vast surging crowd of people, jostling each other in order to get a view of the wonderful Man in their midst, and even pressing upon Him in their rude inquisitiveness — there was but one poor suffering woman who understood His mission, and tested for herself, the power she believed Him to possess.
Blessed Lord Jesus, this sick and sorrowful "somebody" shall be my guide to Your feet, this morning! I rejoice to know that her touch of faith must have been the result of Your own Divine love and compassion. Your hand must have moved her heart — or her finger would never have been laid on the hem of Your garment. You must have awakened within her, the desire and the trust which produced such happy results. This "somebody's" sad case, dear Lord, was well known to You, and, "for the sake of those who stood by," as well as a sweet incentive to all those who should hereafter believe on Your Name — You graciously drew this sin-sick, soul-sick, unclean creature to You, that You might bestow on her both pardon and healing!
Oh! will You not repeat the miracle at this moment, Lord? Both writer and reader are needing the exercise of Your Omnipotent power on their behalf, and are now stretching forthtrembling hands of faith to receive the blessing which You alone can give! O bid us touch and live!
Do you wonder, poor sinner, whether your need, and your longings, and your first faint hopes of mercy — are known to the dear Savior whom you seek? See here how instantly the Lord was aware of a touch upon the edge of His robe, and how immediately He knew that power was gone out of Him. What strong encouragement this should give to a timid, shrinking soul!
The slightest contact of faith with Christ, ensures salvation. So full is He of blessed power and willingness to save, that, even from His clothing, the sacred healing flowed, in response to this poor woman's trustful touch. How much more will spiritual cleanliness be bestowed on you when you say —
"My faith does lay her hand
On that dear head of Thine,
While like a penitent I stand,
And here confess my sin."
I want to cheer my own soul with this comfort of God. I am realizing very painfully that "in me dwells no good thing;" nay, more, that "evil is present with me." The fight against inbred corruption is fierce, and I am well-near spent in the struggle. Is not this the very time to test and trust the Savior's power? I shall have to force my way through a crowd of iniquities, and doubts, and discouragements; but mine is an urgent case, and I know that, "if I may touch but His clothes — I shall be whole!" For so surely as my faith meets my Savior's free grace — my deliverance is assured and complete. Ah! how insensate and ignorant it would be to draw back in full view of life eternal, and choose to perish rather than to persist!
"But," says one, "I think I could more easily push my way through a crowd of people, and really reach out my hand to touch Jesus — than I can spiritually and mentally imitate that woman's action." Yes, I see, you are a doubting Thomas — you must put your finger in the print of the nails, and thrust your hand into His side, before you believe. This always has seemed to me a willful and hard-hearted resolve on the part of the apostle, yet how tenderly the Lord dealt with it, how fully and freely He gave Thomas permission to set his doubts at rest in his own way! I do not think he availed himself of the permission; the glory of the Savior's risen body scattered all his skepticism in a moment; but there was gentle reproof in Christ's after-word, "Because you have seen Me, you have believed — blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed."
O my gracious Lord, it is a marvel of marvels that You allow my faith to draw forth Your Divine power to heal and save! It is sweet comfort to remember that You knew all about that silent woman, stealthily creeping up behind You, to snatch a blessing even from Your garment; but it is still greater solace to understand that You permitted her feeble finger to unlock, as it were, the sluices of Your eternal love, so that spirit, soul, and body were at once flooded with heavenly grace and favor, and with perfect peace and pardon! O Lord Jesus, words fail me to extol Your wondrous compassion, Your unspeakable pity and love; but do, I beseech You, now draw some other poor sad "somebodies" to Your dear feet, that they, too, may be made whole!
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