One of my friends is a pathologist who works in a large hospital. As a pathologist, he is a kind of “doctor’s doctor” and assists in the diagnosis of disease. A significant part of his work involves looking through a microscope at samples of human tissue and reporting his observations to the patients’ primary physicians.
He once told me that at a certain point in his career he realized he risked allowing his work to become insular and alienating because he was usually quite detached from personal contact with sick persons. From that moment on he made it a practice whenever possible to scrub up, walk into the operating room, and touch each patient before looking at his or her tissue sample in the microscope.
Mark 5 gives a fascinating account of Jesus sensing that he had been touched by someone. People crowded around him as he made his way to the home of a dying little girl, and in their midst a woman suffering from hemorrhages reached to touch his garment. She thought to herself, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured,” and immediately the flow of blood stopped. Jesus, recognizing what had happened, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?”
The disciples were astounded that Jesus could be aware that a single person had touched him in the midst of a clamorous crowd. Here was a man who, pressed in by a mob, was aware of individuals. His compassion was active and open, for as he put it, his mission was to seek the lost sheep. His orientation was so completely in the direction of others, his heart so totally immersed in seeking the lost and forsaken, that the touch of those in need made an impression on him, one he would not ignore.
At Christmas we ponder the profound truth that in the Incarnation God has touched humanity. To speak of God’s “touch,” however, is not to imply that he has merely reached forth to us from afar, as if extending his hand in our direction but remaining unmoved himself, at arm’s length. To the contrary, through the Incarnation God’s Son has taken on our human nature so completely that he has “touched” us thoroughly, from the inside out. Christmas teaches that before God’s Son touched individuals, he had already embraced all of humanity by taking upon himself our human nature. Jesus could sense that the sick woman touched him because he had already taken on all of human suffering by becoming man.
The Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus — the genealogy and story of the Magi in Matthew, the nativity accounts in Luke, the cosmic perspective of John — proclaim without doubt that God’s own Son took on human flesh and blood for our sake. St. Leo the Great once wrote that if God had not taken on our nature, the whole human race would still be captive under Satan’s dominion. Jesus’ ultimate victory “would have profited us nothing if the battle had been fought outside our human condition.”
The Gospel accounts of Jesus’ public ministry give us example after example of people made whole simply by encountering him, by “touching” him in various ways. He had come for them, and he would never reject or abandon anyone who approached him.
At Christmas we recognize that humanity itself has been renewed by the birth of Jesus, the new Adam through whom all of creation is re-created. His birth in a stable is the rebirth of humanity. When we give ourselves to him — when we let him touch us — we, too, are born anew. Not just once, but again and again, because Jesus will never cease giving us new life whenever we come to him.
We look into the manger scene and see ourselves in him. What weighs us down he lifts off our shoulders. What ails us he heals. What enslaves us he overpowers. What disturbs our peace he stills, as once he stilled the sea. “The yoke that burdened them, the pole on their shoulder, and the rod of their taskmaster you have smashed,” wrote Isaiah of God’s new creation (chapter 9).
How do we share in this “touch” of God? How do we know that he notices us in the midst of the mass of humanity? We know because he himself has come to tell us, and all we need do is stay by his side, never letting go of his hand, confident that he will never abandon us.
“The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, ÔDo not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord.” (Luke 2:9-11)
Merry Christmas! May we look more deeply into the manger this year and see ourselves made new by the Son of God.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him at Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock, AR 72217.