In Luke 13:10-17, Jesus is teaching in the synagogue on the Sabbath when he notices a woman with a disabling spirit. As she totters through the temple gates, Jesus calls the woman over, confirms her restoration, and heals her condition. No longer crooked, she glorifies God and prompts Jesus to criticize the religious leaders for their lack of compassion.
Digging into this summary, we find meaningful implications, especially where sickness and infirmity dwell. For starters, we must not deny those around us who are poor in spirit and health, desperate for Jesus in a way that extends past their margins.
As a NICU alum, I can boldly testify to this. Every day during Juju’s life, Lys and I entered a larger-than-life mystery box, a stream of unknowns where anything could happen. From what we experienced, the emotional highways were unending from dead-end hopelessness to confounding crossroads. In each situation, parents, like the crooked woman, were searching for anything their hope could cling to – comfort, healing, answers, you name it!
Yet, as challenging as that season was, the contrast in processing helped us understand the power within the presence of God. While there were moments when we sought the Lord because there was no other way, there were other times we sensed his call and responded accordingly. So, it was with our protagonist in Luke 13, who not only personified what it meant to be in the right place at the right time but saw her affliction as a catalyst for intervention.
Examining the woman’s transformation, we find some notable takeaways, particularly in v. 10-13, during which Jesus orchestrates his miracle:
1. In v. 10, Jesus sees the woman even though he was already teaching in the synagogue. 2. At the start of v. 12, he calls her over instead of continuing with his message. 3. By the end of v. 12, he declares her freedom before healing her disability.
While circumstantial at the surface, we can behold the intentionality within this order when we assess similar healings in the Gospels. Like the bent woman, Jesus repeatedly modeled his heart alongside his power, relating to the context of suffering even before his presence was recognized. This poses a powerful thought:
To the extent our faith activates when we sense God’s presence, it also stirs when we hear His voice. Like gravity, His Word summons the innermost part of our being in a way that compels us to move in his direction.
No wonder the woman had no issue journeying to Jesus. the joy set before her resonating with the joy set before him.
Upon her arrival, note how Jesus reacts: He doesn’t immediately remove the woman’s iniquity but proclaims her victory! Again, this subtle progression is profound. Though some might question why Jesus would call his shot, the purpose behind his declaration wasn’t to simply highlight his divinity but to deliver salvation while proving his love. Had the purity behind the action lacked, the woman’s response may have reflected differently. But like many before her who battled long-lasting crippling ailments, the outflow of praise rode on the heels of the expectancy. In the end, it was all about Jesus, religious and wishful sentiments be da*rned.
For the griever and/or loved one stuck in the hospital, while our prayers have power and purpose, what we voice as expressions of hope yields the truth of who God is and what he wills from his nature. Ultimately, God is going to finish the good work he started in you (Philippians 1:6) as heaven meets earth in wonder-working fashion (Matthew 6:10). True, we will never have all the answers as to why we must endure in specific ways; however, when we remember how Jesus made space to heal a woman in the middle of a sermon on a day His Father set apart for rest, we can draw encouragement knowing God is always for us, even during the darkest and craziest of days.
Prayer: “Jesus, you told your followers, ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God, so believe in Me as well. Peace, I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives,’ (John 14:1, 27). We confess we need your peace, the peace of God, which transcends all understanding’ (Philippians 4:7) to guard our hearts and minds. We humbly come before you with our weary hearts and pray that you continue to show us fresh levels of love and grace as we go through this season of sorrow and transition. Help us to find peace in your presence. Wipe our tears, Lord, and carry us through this season of mourning and deep sadness. Help us to trust in your unfailing love and to fix our eyes on you, Jesus. As we lift our worries to you, we humbly ask that you lift up our hearts from what may overwhelm us. May your presence bring us joy and comfort as we embark on this journey of healing with you. In your most holy name, we pray. Amen.”
Note: A more detailed analysis of this passage will be included in the Juby Journey book I’m working on. For now, I’m converting preliminary thoughts into the SOAP Bible study below to archive insight and encourage the saints in the short term.
As one dealing with grief, who went through the ringer last year while Juby was alive, I can’t help but resonate with this passage. Like the protagonist, Lys and I can relate to an afflicted daughter and the desperation for her deliverance. Granted, Juby was not demon-possessed but stricken with chronic lung disease. Still, as we cried out for Jesus, hopefully not to the chagrin of others, we discovered a posture far greater than a spiritual bookmark but of a daily exercise with reproducible influence.
Accordingly, without further ado, I’d like to unpack the remarkable faith of the Syrophoenician woman and how her hope can be a blueprint for those seeking restoration.
“And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, ‘Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.’ But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she is crying out after us.’ He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’ But she came and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’ And he answered, ‘It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” She said, ‘Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’ Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.“
Observations
1. Before we can dive into the dialogue, we must first assess the setting. While time and place may seem arbitrary, in this case, they carry notable purpose. With the end in sight, Jesus withdrew with the disciples outside Jewish territory to prepare them for the Cross to come. His days numbered, Jesus realized some final exposures and tune-ups were necessary to groom them for life in ministry without His physical presence. As such, the fact He retreated to the hostile confines of Tyre and Sidon should not be perceived as random as Jesus desired to foreshadow the Gospel going out to all peoples. How amazing it is to know Jesus, even in His last days, never stopped breaking down barriers through radical love.
2. Fast-forward to the woman’s cameo, it’s interesting to note what she requests right out of the gate. Instead of healing or intervention, she addresses Jesus as ‘Son of David’ and calls for mercy, instantly acknowledging the Master’s identity, authority, and sovereignty in one swoop (v. 22). While intellectual origins are unknown, somehow, someway, she understood who Jesus was much to the surprise of the cohort. Per the importance of this sequence, we’ll break this down as we go.
3. I also find Jesus’ response to be somewhat peculiar: “But he did not answer her a word” (v. 23). This, to me, is a critical point to examine and requires us to broaden out to consider the context. Again, this will be explored in the points below.
4. Starting with the woman’s location and situation, we find her labeled as an unclean outsider despite her Canaanite designation and erroneously judged for her non-Israelite daughter’s condition. In terms of geography and timeline, we aren’t informed of any prior wonders performed in Tyre and Sidon prior to this passage. This adds a curious wrinkle to the story as one must wonder how a woman of this stature and status could recognize Jesus as the Messiah.
5. Going back to Jesus’ response, we find multiple motives. For the disciples citing the woman as a distraction, Jesus addresses their bias prior to answering her cry (v. 24):
“I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
The reason behind this is at least twofold: On one hand, Jesus wanted to remind the disciples who He was in light of what He came to do as clearly, a portion of the twelve were still pigeon-holing His kingship. On the other hand, Jesus’ intended His initial silence to be an opportunity for the woman to show patience…and resilience. From ‘have mercy’ to ‘help me’ in consecutive pleas (v. 25), the woman wasn’t just conveying poetic symmetry but reiterating Jesus’ mission. Already she had correctly identified Jesus as the Son of God (a full two chapters prior to Peter’s declaration in 16:16); now, she was begging Jesus to be consistent to her…
…what you do to Israel, please, Lord, do to me and my household as well.
6. In addition to the woman’s opening inquiry, I’m captivated by her posture. Even if she just said, ‘Son of David, please help me. My daughter is possessed’, Jesus would have recognized the woman’s understanding of His lordship through her positioning. While the woman’s kneel wasn’t evident during her first appeal, the fact Jesus gave the woman more time, in part, to let her go deeper in referencing Him was not part of instinctual circumstance. Rather, it was an intentional maneuver for her to anchor her surrender and confirm her awareness in front of a freshly humbled core of disciples.
7. The exchange between Jesus and the woman immediately following is arguably one of the most profound moments during His ministry. Up to this point, Jesus hasn’t said a word. Now ready, we again see the silence’s effect per His decision to test the depth and sincerity of her invitation. With the woman’s hopelessness on a timer, He uses the woman’s location and sense of identity as a means to assess her heart:
“It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” (v. 26)
Here, Jesus elects to use ‘dog’ knowing the term was derogatory as a Gentile reference. To be a dog in Israel was to be regarded as a dirty, street scavenger; however, Jesus doesn’t associate the term to her poverty as much as her perceived sense of spiritual destitution. At the time, the rift between Jew and Gentile (between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’) was still strong but, in a preview, we find a woman authenticating her hope while also foreshadowing the expiration of Gentile believers’ spiritual homelessness.
In the woman’s reply, “Yes, Lord; but even the pet dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their [young] masters’ table” (v. 27), we not only find confidence beyond imminent healing but in the salvation of her people. While the woman’s yieldedness was key as a demonstration of submission, Jesus knew this wasn’t simply a self-centered strategy to obtain instant results.
8. Finally, per the prior point, the significance of ‘crumb’ cannot be understated. For a “lost sheep of Israel” (v. 24) to be so hungry for Jesus that even a mere morsel would tell us the woman saw her situation as secondary to the power and presence of God. In essence, she accepts the status of a family’s dog knowing just a crumb of Jesus would be powerful enough to defeat the demon oppressing her daughter. No question, the woman had her priorities and perspectives set straight, almost as if she had anticipated the moment in advance.
Application
Despite its short duration, the passage carries immense application and universal relatability potential. Regardless of our situations, we can all identify and empathize with the Syrophoenician woman if not at least through her adamant clinging to hope in a bleak situation. Even when we’re struggling with our identity, a love deficit, and/or challenges outside our control, even when we feel stuck in a dark place, we can approach God in humility with thanksgiving acknowledging who He is and what He can do.
For some of you, you may have a loved one, a son or daughter, burdened by a disease or satanic assignment. You may feel the target on your back and paralyzed to shake it off. If this is you, don’t work to faith and prayer; start with faith and prayer. To the Lord of grace, ask for mercy and request His appointed portion of providence. If you’re lost, don’t deny the position but receive yourself as one worth saving. Like the woman, you may be deeply conscious of the misery of the soul, but this doesn’t disqualify you from bread of life crumbs.
For others, you may not have a grim circumstance on the board, but you may be thirsty to anticipate the proximity and power of God. While we don’t know exactly how the woman learned of Jesus before His arrival, we know she put herself in position to receive Him following His arrival. Like her, you don’t have to limit your bended knee to the moment. Rather you can extend it as a general posture wherever you go. Ask yourself, ‘Do I want more of Jesus? Do I want a fresh touch of Him today?’ If the answer is ‘yes’, know whatever He decides to give is more than enough even if what He offers is partly an invitation to go deeper.
Either way, dare to believe good things will happen when you seek Jesus and ask of God according to His will.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, we come before you today as we are. Heavy laden with our fears, anxieties, and insecurities, we lay them down in anticipation of what you’re going to do. Wemay feel “dogged” by life, by consequences of past decisions, by unforeseen trials and happenstances. But like Mary, we choose you ahead of any other commitment and priority in our life right now. We thank you for going before us but recognize your faithfulness before us now. For those who are hungry for you, we ask you provide something afresh to they may taste and see a new facet of your goodness. For those who don’t realize they’re hungry, guide and position them to discover the bread of life you carry. Stir in all of us an awakened passion to the wonder of you and help us to see even what we can’t control as opportunities for sharpening, pruning, and maturing. Whether or not we’re personally afflicted, we pray you prepare our hearts for inevitable testings to come and remember those who are going through tragedy, who are journeying through grief. Tend their hearts and make us sensitive to our part in nourishing them just as you are intentional in nourishing us. Whatever piece youintend to give, we receive itwith praise on our lips and gratitude in our hearts.In Jesus’ precious and holy name…
Not long ago, my eight-month-old daughter, Jubilee, received her tracheostomy – an answer to months of prayer, waiting, and wondering.
At last, The Master Physician…not just making a way for greater health but advancing her recovery to the next level.
Yet, in recent days, as I’ve considered the Cross with Easter still in mind, I’ve been moved by the Messianic prophecy captured in Matthew 8:16-17:
“When evening came, many who were demon-possessed were brought to him, and he drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took up our infirmities and carried our diseases.'”
A popular verse among those quoted in hospitals, I want us to consider Isaiah’s verb choices.
For instance, he doesn’t say verbatim Jesus would cure our infirmities and heal our diseases. Rather, he suggested Jesus would take them up and carry them – a metaphoric preview pointing to the Cross to come. Granted, on the surface this may seem discouraging for those seeking immediate results; however, I submit these words can carry powerful resonance if we allow them.
Think of it this way: Before Jesus could heal our diseases, He first had to relate to them. As Hebrews 4:15 emphasizes, Christ identified with us in our sufferings so He could restore our brokenness, transform our perspective, and fix our eyes to His presence. Cross in mind, this is why Jesus did not purchase our eternal freedom at the cost of iniquity alone as He knew our physical reconciliation was part of the package. Hence, why we must understand…
…while Jesus died for our sins and eternal relationship, He also endured our physical limitations so we could better relate to Him in our weakness.
…Jesus, even in His final moments, was not only proactive to consider our need to walk in fullness by His grace but cared just as much about our physical restoration as our spiritual freedom.
As for how this can encourage us in the short-term? Again, consider the Cross within Matthew 8:16-17. Before Jesus could instantly heal, there had to be a way to Him and for Him to call us to receive His healing. By establishing this pathway, He also made clear a critical order: Healing, in its rightful place, is not a catalyst but an overflow – a means to relationship with God. Accordingly, since Jesus is the answer (John 14:6), we must be careful not to assume His divine intervention is even close to the solution He is.
Yes, the NICU life, like many settings and situations, is a struggle stirred by our desire to know the ‘why’ of God’s plan, but this shouldn’t deter us from pressing into Jesus. As Matthew 8:1-17 reminds us, healing is a holy prompt to discover God as He connects to our circumstances. While miracles are often perceived as the mic drops of God’s power, dare to see the waiting for them as opportunities to know His love, nearness, and faithful sovereignty in a fresh way.
After all, it’s God’s heart our burdens aren’t the only things growing amidst our perseverance.
Bottom line: While healing is a culmination of God’s power, the anticipation of it should excite our hearts knowing He never stops pursuing us in the midst of chaos and crisis. Even though many of us reading this have felt the letdown at one point or another, take heart: The next time you sense God knocking, open the door, cast your anxieties, and let Him minister to you in ways only He can.
So recently, I’ve been investigating some of the more creative and intense miracles of Jesus during His ministry.
Among my questions: What is the full significance of the garment at Gennesaret? Why were those at Gadarenes intimidated by Jesus? And whenever a specific number is mentioned, is there a reason for it? Or is it just arbitrary in some cases?
But perhaps the most pressing of late is the most random:
Why did Jesus use saliva in some of his healings?
While my research is ongoing, what I can say for now is while the Spirit of God as demonstrated through the spittle of His Son seems like a bizarre theme, the concept is not so far-fetched.
You see, back in the day, the medical community, particularly in Judea, believed strongly in the curing power of saliva. While practicing with spittle seems disgusting by our standards, as BC became AD, a patient would want a physician’s spit to be part of the prescription. Pretty crazy, right?
Accordingly, Jesus healing a deaf man by a wet touch to the tongue (Mark 7:33) and two blind men with a similar approach to the eyes (Mark 8:23, John 9:6), should not surprise us. Granted, Jesus could have gone against conventional wisdom and treatments in ‘out of leftfield’ fashion.
But that’s not who Jesus is or what He came to do. Rather than discredit welcomed practices (by Jewish and Roman cultures, no doubt), Jesus operated within an expected vein so He could communicate His intention to heal before actually doing so.
And while there’s plenty of symbolism involving the mud and washing of eyes, as I revisit these stories with one in the NICU, I’m encouraged by the Prince of Peace channeling a relatable ‘big picture’ into these miraculous moments.
For instance, while Jesus knew there was power in His Word, He also knew there was healing power in His saliva intended to impart life and restoration. With divine DNA flowing with His humanity, we can better understand such an operational dichotomy:
Just as there was future power in His blood, so was there present power in the mud…
…revealing His power to heal the afflicted and open their eyes in more ways than one.
Put another way, Christ’s lifeblood was His lifesource. To the extent He yielded and relied on God, to that extent His wonder-working power manifested through grace, understanding, even medical empathy. This makes sense especially when we take a birds-eye view of Christ’s creative healings.
For Jesus so loved whom He took compassion on, not only did He seek to model love by His power but also care by His intent.
While I will aim to unpack this further in my next post, for now, I live this in real-life in real-time. Given the number of preemies I pass in the halls these days, I’m stirred by the fact Jesus never repeated the same healing miracle twice. And as Lys & I enter these dog days at Vandy, I’m reminded how, like Jesus, we can be dependent upon a higher power pulsating through us…reviving our hearts again.
How sweet it is to know our Savior is an expert at making something out of nothing and meeting our spiritual need with a physical manifestation? After all, to heal is to not only restore what once was lost but to reclaim by faith God’s original design for our life.
Selah.
Jubilee (“Juby”) Fry after her laser eye surgery on 1/27/22.
hisgirlfryday.com 