When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored to the shore. And when they got out of the boat, the people immediately recognized him and ran about the whole region and began to bring the sick people on their beds to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he came, in villages, cities, or countryside, they laid the sick in the marketplaces and implored him that they might touch even the fringe of his garment. And as many as touched it were made well. — Mark 6:53-56
Not too long before this in Mark's narrative, we are told of Jesus returning to His hometown of Nazareth where the people where "offended" by His teaching and authority causing Christ to utter the proverb, "A prophet is not without honor, except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household." Because the Nazarenes refused to believe, Jesus could do no great works among them, though He did lay hands on and heal a few sick folks. Now the people of Gennesaret were unlikely to be better people than Jesus' kinfolks in Nazareth. Yet here Christ was sought out, honored, and believed. As a result, many were delivered and made whole.
It is natural for us to think that God takes care of the good people, and the devil takes the bad. But, as Jesus pointed out, there is none good but God. I have met some saintly people, some people who seemed to have transcended all the temptations of the material world, but they are invariably those who have been touched by the Divine. It is His grace in the life of the broken that brings them to wholeness. He makes the unrighteous righteous. After all, it is not the healthy who need a physician but the sick, and the Great Physician can make the sickest well, "...even the one who could not keep himself alive" (Psalm 22:29).
I am all too aware of my own faults and failures. Despite doing my best for many years now to follow Christ, I find that I am hardly what I should be. There remains in me much that is sick. I have a choice. I can continue to try to fix it by my own efforts, or I can do as the people of Gennesaret did. I can run to Christ. I can lay my troubled soul down in the marketplace, out there for everyone to see, and I can beg Jesus to just pass by so that I might touch the fringe of His flowing grace.
It's pretty humiliating. I should have overcome this a long time ago. I should not be in this state. But I am. I can continue to limp along, crippled and tormented, hiding my sickness from the world, maintaining the illusion that all is well. Or I can admit that I am broken despite all my knowledge and strength and ability. Perhaps I will even need some help to get where I need to be. We are often like the paralytic who was carried to Christ by his four friends who, unable to get through the press of the crowd, climbed up on the roof to lower their friend down to Jesus. It is a good thing there were four of them, for one or two could not have gotten the man lifted up to the roof, nor effectively lowered him into the room where Jesus sat. That is even more destructive to our pride, to be dependent on the support and prayers of others to get to where we can come in contact with Jesus.
When we are willing to limp or crawl or be carried by our brothers and sisters out into the open, we will be made whole, not because we are deserving, not because we are good, not because we are special, but because we are there — because Jesus sees our faith or the faith of our friends. His grace flows to us to make us righteous, to fix the broken parts of our lives, to bind up our wounds, to deliver us from bondage.
But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. — Titus 3:4-7