TEXT: Mark 5:21-34

SUBJECT: Primitive Piety Revived

In His book Primitive Piety Revived, Henry C. Fish lamented the state into which the church of his day had fallen. He believed that Americans of an earlier age were better than those of his generation. The Puritans, the Pilgrims, and the men of the Great Awakening far excelled the Christians of 1850. From this starting point, Fish goes on to trace the causes of this decline. Many, of course, could be found: a lack of consecration, of earnestness, of self-denial, and personal responsibility are among what he called "the grand defects" of the age.

But before mentioning any of these, he selects one "grand defect" which stands far above the others in terms of importance: "a lack of the single eye". The men of his generation--Fish believed--aimed at so many things, that they ignored the "one thing needful".

Do you think he was right? Is a lack of "the single eye" really that critical?

Hence a lack of the "single eye", the unity of purpose, was the "grand defect" of Henry Fish's day--and ours I suspect as well.

But the woman before us--whatever her other defects--sure didn't lack anything here. She was "single eyed", obsessed, with touching the Lord Jesus and receiving the cure only He could provide. We have, therefore, much to learn from her.

How did she come to this state of unmixed concentration? It seems to me, two things focused her attention:

The first was a felt sense of need. The Evangelist tells us that she suffered "an issue of blood". This must have been at least uncomfortable and weakening in its effect--or, who knows, maybe life-threatening. But whatever its intensity, we do know that it was a real and serious illness.

We also know that it largely barred her from the worship of God. For remember, Israel was then serving the LORD under the Old Covenant, and it forbade people with any "uncleanness" from entering His Sanctuary, approaching His altar, or even meeting with His people. This infirmity, therefore, both racked her body and quenched her spirit.

It was also chronic. If it had continued a week or two, a month or even a year, it might have been bearable. But it didn't. It tortured the poor woman for twelve long years. Twelve years of pain. Twelve years of weakness. Twelve years banished from public worship.

It was a costly ailment. She had spent "everything she had" seeking a cure. But, although the doctors had bankrupted their patient, they had not helped her.

This seques into a final thought: her disease was incurable. The finest doctors had utterly failed to find a cure. She not only didn't grow better under their treatments "but rather grew worse".

The woman's obsession to find Christ, therefore, was born of a felt sense of need. She was nothing short of desperate. "If I don't touch Him--she thought--I will die".

A lack of urgency is one of the main hindrances to finding Christ, the forgiveness of sin, the renewing of character, and the restoring of our communion with God.

It is not as though we are atheists or anti-Christians. We're not swaggering, "Who needs Christ!?" But rather, we're like those men who almost heeded His call: "I have bought a piece of ground and must go and see it..."I have bought five yoke of oxen and going to test them..."I have married and wife, and therefore, cannot come...Lord, let me bury my dead..." And on and on and on it goes. None of these men hated Christ or rejected the Savior; but coming to Him was just not a priority!

For none of these men felt the absolute need for Jesus Christ. They knew He was important, that He had a place in their lives, that their children ought to know about Him...But none of them could say "If only I touch the hem of His garment, I'll be made well!"

It is not, therefore, till you are brought to the end of yourself, till you feel an overwhelming need of the Savior, that you'll begin to:

"Seek the LORD and His strength;

Seek His face continually".

But "the woman with the issue of blood" had more than a felt sense of need. She also had faith in the power and willingness of Jesus Christ to make her well.

The twenty-eighth verse is one of the Bible's best confessions of faith. "If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well". Notice:

The only question, therefore, was whether or not she "could touch the hem of His garment". No doubt about Christ.

But how do you suppose she came to such a firm conviction? Was she given a supernatural revelation (like Cornelius)? It sure doesn't seem so. Rather, it seems that she had received the testimony concerning Christ. Our Lord was a famous man, well-known for His great compassion and almighty power.

If He had already cast out devils, cured a fever, cleansed a leper, and strengthened a paralytic, then surely--she must have thought--Christ could heal her too. And thus, based on the testimony of other people, she placed her full confidence in Jesus Christ.

And the witness to Him, of course, proved true. She was healed by a mere touch of the Man's garment.

Now, if this woman could put such faith in the Christ of 20 Centuries ago, why can't we trust Him now? "Where is your faith?" He might ask us.

This combination, need and hope, motivated her to "touch the hem of His garment" whatever the cost. When she saw Christ, she must have been overjoyed. But when she noticed the multitudes thronging Him, discouragement set in. How could a woman--and a sick one at that--push her way into His presence. He was mobbed by people who wanted to touch Him every bit as much as she did--and were bigger and stronger too. Yet, her need was so great and her faith so strong that she pushed and shoved, she climbed and crawled, she elbowed and kneed her way to the Savior, touched His garment, "and the fountain of her blood was dried up". Nothing could keep her from Christ--not pride, not hardship, not the opinion of others. She needed Him. He would heal her. Thus she got to Him!

When we have the same combination of need and hope, we too will pay the price to find the Savior. We will not allow anything to keep us from Him--not the demands of time, not the pain of guilt, not the shrieks of conscience, not the sneers of people. No, not even "a right eye, a right foot, or a right hand". "Eyeless, footless, handless?--maybe. But Christless?--never. "If only I may touch the hem of His garment, I will be made well".

And so, examine yourself, and tell me if Henry C. Fish was wrong or not. Isn't the lack of a single eye "the grand defect" of our age? I think so. It is not that we renounce Christ and His fellowship. It is only that we put such heavenly things "on the back burner"--something to be gotten around to when we have the time.

But the woman "made the time"--and made it now! She exercised a singleness of purpose because of two things:

And it is not until we get these things in mind that we, like her, will get "the single eye".

Let her testimony be ours: "If only I touch the hem of His garment, I will be made whole".