The Simple Faith of the Simple-Minded

Read Mark 5:25–34

It is striking how Scripture presents the two individuals Jesus responds to in the crowd. One is Jairus, a synagogue official. He has a name. His position is recorded. His role is clear. The other is simply described as “a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years.” She is unnamed, unidentified by status or family, and known only by her condition. A nobody if it weren’t for their infirmity. This is often how we know people, even in the church. Known by their weakness. Defined by their struggle. Remembered by their infirmity. Many of us would identify with this situation. People don’t remember meeting us, don’t  remember our names and often identify us as someone’s wife or brother. We are a nobody. 

Scripture also tells us that Jesus Himself was identified by suffering. “He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain” (Isaiah 53:3). He was also “known by His stripes”, marks of suffering that became the means of healing (Isaiah 53:5). While we often focus on His authority, power, and miracles, we must not forget, Jesus knew suffering from the inside and was also known by it. 

On that very day, many important people were present, officials, leaders, influential voices, educated minds, physicians, and scholars. None of them entered Scripture. None of them are remembered. But this woman is. 

We must however acknowledge that she was remembered not because she suffered, but because of how she responded to suffering. Suffering alone is not the qualification. It becomes significant only because it often produces the right response: reaching out to God in faith. She was suffering from the bleeding disorder long before her encounter with Jesus. Her story is remembered not for her pain, but for her response. Her attitude. Her view of Jesus. Her faith expressed in action. 

This was not refined faith. It was not sophisticated or polished. It was raw, desperate, and unschooled. “If I just touch His clothes, I will be healed” (Mark 5:28). That was her theology. That was her doctrine. And it was enough. She had not studied Scripture. She did not know the Law like the Pharisees. Yet Scripture warns, “Knowledge puffs up while love builds up” (1 Corinthians 8:1). The Pharisees had knowledge, but it did not transform them. This woman had faith, and it changed everything.

Jesus Himself affirmed the principle: “According to your faith let it be done to you” (Matthew 9:29). And it was done to her exactly as she believed. There was no doctrine of garment-touching. No ministry built around it. No conference held to explain it. She simply believed Jesus was who He said He was, and that He could heal.

And He did. She went home healed and whole. Anonymous. Uncelebrated by society. But eternally recorded in Scripture. Her story has taught generations more than volumes of theological debate ever could.

This confronts us uncomfortably. Many of us know Scripture deeply. We analyse, expound, debate, attend conferences, and complete modules. Yet how often are our lives unchanged? Our knowledge has increased, but our transformation has stalled. Meanwhile, a woman with no credentials touched Jesus (literally) and was made whole. The simple faith of the simple-minded puts us to shame. There is a sobering warning from Jesus Himself: “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven… Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you’” (Matthew 7:21–23). Knowledge without relationship is empty. Words without faith are hollow. Being touched by his healing hands often requires us to step out of the crowd in faith and shamelessly touch him in faith and desperation. What we need is not more explanation, but more encounter.

Lord Jesus, Strip away my pride in knowledge and position. Give me a simple heart and an undivided faith. Teach me to reach for You without pretence, to believe without complication, and to act without hesitation. I do not want to know about You, I want to know You. Make my faith living, active, and real. Amen.