So, one day I was doing a hospital visit. Most of the time I go early before doctors get to work, because there's not as much activity going on. But this time I couldn't get there until about 11.
I went into the room and sat down and asked, “So, what did you do to yourself?” “Well,” she said, “I was. . . “ And just then a nurse came in to replace a bag of fluids. After she left, I said, “Let's try again. What did you do to yourself?” “Well,” she said, “I was. . .” And a supervisor type walked on in and started talking about how they were going to move her down a floor to the rehab wing. After a few minutes of explaining she left. I smiled and said, “Let's try it one more time. What did you do to yourself?” “Well,” she said, “I was. . .” And in walked an orderly who was checking to see that she still had all the items she came in with before they moved her.
Now I was getting a little irritated by this point. I mean, there I was sitting in my collar, looking all holy. And I couldn't get a sacred word in to save my life. And right as orderly was leaving, I saw Lunch Woman stop at the door.
So, I told her I'd come back the next day, when things weren't as hectic. And I gave Lunch Woman a smile that probably didn't look like much of one, and off I went.
It's hard sometime to live in this world and get done the things you need to get done. So many interruptions.
Even in my discernment to pursue holy orders. Like I told y'all before, I had it all planned out and knew how long it would take and where I'd go to seminary and where I'd be placed in a parish. I absolutely had the whole thing down to the last detail in MY mind. But for some reason, other people kept disagreeing with me. So I didn't get to go when I wanted where I wanted to be what I wanted. Instead, my life was interrupted. Instead I had to spend a few more years, running the coffee shop until the time had passed when the discernment team ASKED ME to come back again.
Three years of my life lived in one constant, irritating interruption.
I wonder if Jesus felt a little bit of irritation in our Gospel reading today. I mean, here he is going about his business trying to get to Jairus's daughter because the poor little girl is gravely ill. He's a man on the mission, needing to get from point A to point B. And up from nowhere pops this interruption in the form of a woman who has been suffering greatly for as long as that little girl has been alive. And she reaches out, not knowing what will happen, but surely it can't get any worse, and she touches Jesus' cloak. And is healed.
And Jesus has to stop and find the woman and assure her, in her fear, that it's OK. It's ok to be in need and it's ok to be afraid, and the faith that burst forth has healed her.
But now it's too late for Jairus. The interruption lasted too long, and the little girl is dead.
And yet....
Sometimes those interruptions in our lives... Those things that set up roadblocks, those events that mess with our plans, those people that get in our way. Sometimes, those interruptions in our lives might just be the Holy Spirit popping up. The Holy Spirit that so patiently taps us on the shoulder as we go through our day-to-day lives, whispering in our ear to love God and love our neighbor. Just being there with us. Sometimes that Holy Spirit pops up in a more active way, interrupting our plans in a way we wouldn't expect.
And when that happens – and when we bother to take notice – our lives can change in such profound ways.
A woman touches Jesus. This is a woman who has been objectified for twelve years. To those in the medical field of the time, she is a problem, a wounded thing that needs to be cured. And when they can't, they go about their business and send her on her way. She is just an unseen PERSON on the fringe of their lives that they need to get on with.
But this woman touches Jesus, and his healing grace touches her, and he stops, allowing himself to be interrupted in order to see her, to truly see her. For the first time in twelve years, she is a person and not an illness. For the first time in twelve years, she is whole.
And that's not the end of the story. Because of this unexpected interruption in Jesus' journey, the healing he does with Jairus's daughter is so much more profound. This little girl, that everyone knew (she was the daughter of the town leader, after all), that everyone saw every day for the same twelve years when nobody saw the other woman...this little girl now was unseen in a very profound way. She was gone as far as the crowd were concerned. Time to move on. But again, Jesus sees and understands and gets to the heart of the matter and lifts her up, back to her life again.
A girl, whose life was interrupted, is able to experience first hand, the healing power of God, exactly because her life had been interrupted.
That loving grace, moving through the interruptions of our lives.
You know, if my discernment hadn't been interrupted I would not have been able to meet and know so many wonderful people at the coffee shop, gathering so many stories and memories of people working through their own lives. I would not have been able to stand along side a customer as he decided to become an Episcopalian. I would not have been able to be a speaker at the funeral of a customer's mother, because he had nobody else to turn to and trusted me to do right by her.
And if I had gone to seminary according to my timeline, I would not have met such wonderful friends who are a much my family as my family. And I most likely wouldn't be here now, among such wonderful people in such a beautiful land.
And if my visit that day at the hospital had not been interrupted, I would not have met those workers, one of whom had waited for me in the hallway, and joined me in the waiting room, and spilled her troubled heart out to me.
Holy Interruptions. These moments that knock us out of our comfort zones when we have to change our direction, or our mind, or our best laid plans. Good bless 'em. Don't be annoyed by them. Keep your eyes open for them. Because you never know where they will lead.
Amen