In the first reading today, we encounter a king at his lowest point. David’s grief for his son Absalom is raw and gut-wrenching: "My so...
In the first reading today, we encounter a king at his lowest point. David’s grief for his son Absalom is raw and gut-wrenching: "My son, my son! If only I had died instead of you!" It is the cry of a father who feels that death has won. But the Gospel pivots us from the "death" of David’s hopes to the "life" offered by Jesus. We see two desperate people: Jairus, a man of status, and an unnamed woman, a social outcast. Both are pushed to the edge of despair.
The woman with the hemorrhage shows us Humility. For twelve years, she was "bleeding out"—symbolically losing her life force. She doesn't demand a miracle; she simply believes that even the fringe of His garment carries the power of God. When she touches Him, Jesus stops. He doesn't just want to fix her body; He wants to restore her dignity by calling her "Daughter."
Then there is Jairus. When news comes that his daughter is dead, Jesus gives him the ultimate anchor for Hope: "Do not be afraid; just have faith." Jesus enters the house of mourning and, with a simple command, brings Healing that defies nature. He proves that while David could only weep over a dead son, the Son of God has the authority to wake the sleeping dead.
Today we also celebrate Saint Blaise. We remember him most for the blessing of throats, but he was a man who lived these three "H’s." As a physician and bishop, he humbled himself to serve the persecuted Church. He offered healing to a boy choking on a fishbone, and he gave hope to his flock even as he faced martyrdom.
As you come forward today, perhaps for the blessing of your throat or simply for the Eucharist, ask yourself: Where is my life "bleeding out"? What is "choking" my spirit? Bring that to Jesus. He is not a distant God; He is the one who stops in the crowd for you, reaches into your grief, and says, "Little girl, little boy, I say to you, arise."
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