God isn’t a genie. He’s not some passive deity who responds to our every whim—dispensing answers to our deepest wishes. He’s not a cosmic vending machine where we put in our quarters, hit the correct button, and then enjoy the soda or candy bar we purchased.
I carry that theology with me into Mark 5.
Jairus, he’s my dude. He does it correctly. He has a desperate need, he makes a passionate request, falling at his needs and imploring Jesus to act. That’s not treating Jesus like a vending machine. It’s treating Him like the sovereign He is.
And Jesus, no doubt impressed by this dude’s faith and respect, goes along with Jairus to provide healing for his daughter. But he’s interrupted by this great crowd.
Mark stops his story about Jairus to tell us about one of those in the crowd. It’s a woman who is as desperate as Jairus. But that’s about all they have in common. They are on different ends of the social, religious, and economic ladder. Jairus is a powerful dude. She’s simply “a woman”…a woman that is ritually unclean, filled with shame, slinking in the shadows, and flat broke with a massive pile of medical bills.
Jesus Is Not a Cosmic Vending Machine
What she does next shows how sharply her theology diverges from mine. Mark tells us that she comes up behind him (a sneak attack) and touched his garment. And then Mark exposes her horrible theology, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.”
That’s magical and superstitious thinking. Vending machine theology. She has Jesus in an entirely passive role. She doesn’t care about relationship. She isn’t even acknowledging him. Her love of Jesus seems about as profound as my love for the outlet I found when my phone’s batter is at 1%. It’s entirely transactional.
But it works. I’m not sure why Mark tells us this. It’d be much better for my theology if she’d have come up empty. “God isn’t some impersonal force you can tap into, lady! If you want help from Jesus take the path of Jairus.” But Mark doesn’t seem to care about my theological assumptions.
