The very cry of your heart reveals a deep longing for that which is whole and undefiled, a church, a gathering, a touch that is free from the plague of sin. You see the emptiness, the contamination, and you desire a pure contact. This is no strange thing, for the soul sick with its own corruption yearns for healing. But remember, it is not the touch of human hand or the brushing of garments that can cleanse you. There is but one touch that drives out every virus of the spirit.
That poor woman in the press, who had spent all her living and suffered many things, said within herself, "If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole." She did not say, "If I may touch the disciple's robe," or "If I but press into the crowd at the church." No, the point does not lie in the touch, it lies in what was touched. She aimed straight at Jesus. And so must you. The chair, the floor, the very air of the meetinghouse may seem empty of the contagion, but only the hem of His garment bears the cure. A touch is a very simple matter, but do not, therefore, doubt its value. If you touch but the Redeemer's clothes you shall be made whole!
Yet I hear your fear. Tomorrow the virus man comes not, you say, but you still tremble. Fear never helped thee yet, and it never will. It is weakening. It dishonors God. He says, "Fear not, for I am with thee." What you dread will never come to pass if you are trusting in Him. Even if all men around you are filled with the plague, He is able to keep you from falling and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy. The one anxiety of your soul should be the blood-stained banner of the Cross; will you shelter under it? Will you touch Him?
Do not be satisfied with the throng that presses at the church door but never touches Christ. What fools you are, what gross fools, to get into the throng and be satisfied with that and never touch Christ! Your very longing for unsullied skin and dress is but a shadow of the soul’s desperate need for the robe of His righteousness. He can deliver you from every form of spiritual malady, from anger, from sluggishness, from envy, from lasciviousness, from malice, from every plague that eats as doth a canker.
It was a poor, feeble, trembling touch that many a sinner gave, but by it from sadness and despair they rose to gladness and hope. Oh, touch the Savior, poor Sinner! The Lord deliver you from anything of your own and bring you, now, to look for all to Jesus and you shall know in yourself that you are whole of your plague! Fear not that He will e’er forsake, or leave His work undone. He is faithful to His promises, and faithful to His Son.