Even After the Large Lady Sings - Don't Be Afraid
Pentecost 5b15 (Mark 5:21-43 with II Cors. 8:7-15 in background) June 28, 2015
Have you ever been desperate? I mean desperate – not just for a moment, not just hoping for a team to win so that you feel good for that day – and have nostalgic memories – but desperate to your core. Desperate – because you love someone and they are in such pain that all you want to do is for their pain to be over. Desperate because you don't know if given your current situation there can be lasting life or resolution. Given the reality you now see you can't imagine that any of the possible results will be good or life-bringing. When you are so desperate you may do anything, not really caring what others may think about you or even do to you.
I've been desperate a few times in my life. One long morning and afternoon I sat by my mother's bedside while she was in uncontrollable pain. My mother has a high threshold of pain. Through her life she has undergone 3 spinal surgeries and laid in a hospital bed in a body cast for weeks. But this particular day as she was writhing in pain, seemingly beyond any physical help, the seconds became hours, the hours became days and that day to me felt like a year. Can nothing be done? Her pain rendered me desperate. I begged, bugged and may even have harassed any whom I felt might, just might be able to help.
Some[T1] years ago I watched a movie, John Q. Denzel Washington played John Q, the father of a young boy who had an enlarged heart. Living in Chicago they were awaiting a much needed heart transplant. However John's employment status was undergoing change. And not for the better. He now was only a part time employee. This means that he and his family were far from being fully insured. They need to raise $ 75,000 just for his son to be placed on a donor's list. And that number for them despite all of their efforts and the efforts of those closest to them is impossible. It is during this time, while John's young son is playing baseball that he collapses and is rushed to the hospital. He is literally dying. His only hope is for a heart transplant. But none is forthcoming.
John is desperate. He takes matters into his own hands. He comes into the hospital with a concealed hand gun. While in the and ER John takes 11 people hostage. His plan is to get a heart surgeon there and then kill himself so that his son can receive his heart and live. John Q is DESPERATE – desperate for his son to live, whatever the cost to himself. What happens to him, what others may think of him – none of that matters. All that matters is that his son lives.
In today's Gospel we meet 2 seemingly very different people. Jairus is one of the leaders of the synagogue. He had some wealth, influence and many friends. The second person is a nameless woman who seems to be all alone. She is alone, because she has been hemorrhaging for 12 years. Her bleeding would have made her incapable of bearing children, and prevented her from being accepted at the synagogue or temple. She literally was alone.
Jairus has a 12 year old daughter who is dying. This reality renders him desperate. The nameless woman is also desperate. She has tried everything – every available human resource to get better, to be able to have a life. And all of these attempts have failed. Now she is worse off than ever. Now she is poor and alone.
Jairus and the nameless woman are joined together by and in their desperation. Desperately needing help beyond themselves they look to Jesus. Jairus falls on his knees and repeatedly begs Jesus to help his daughter. Jesus agrees to go with him.
Now a crowd gathers around them. Aren't we human beings drawn by the spectacle of pain and tragedy? Even as all of this is happening the woman approaches Jesus and touches his robe.
Amazing things begin to happen. The woman's bloody discharge ceases. Jesus senses that power has gone out of him. Isn't it true that when we help others – although that can be wonderful – there is a power, an energy that is demanded and gone for at least awhile?
Now Jesus looks around. He asks, "Who has touched him"? Perhaps he longs for her to be completely well. Again, she is drawn to him. She tells him the whole truth about herself. Now she is no longer nameless. Now Jesus calls her by name – "DAUGHTER! ... YOUR FAITH HAS MADE YOU WELL; GO IN PEACE AND BE HEALED OF YOUR DISEASE."
Daughter! She is his daughter – and she has been restored, given life! (Pause)
There remains at least one desperate person in today's Gospel. Almost before the word, "Daughter" is out of Jesus' mouth, news reaches Jesus and Jairus. Jairus' daughter has died. The bearers of this news ask, "Why trouble Jesus anymore?" The feared worst has occurred. It's all over but the crying.
Yet Jesus will not be deterred! Looking at Jairus he says, "Do not fear (keep on being afraid). Only believe."
Jesus limits who will accompany him as he goes to the child. The mourners are already there – wailing and making a great commotion. Jesus queries them, "Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping". They laugh at him...
He then puts them all outside (I bet he does!) Then, He reaches out and touches that young girl – the one supposedly dead. In touching her Jesus would have been seen as unclean. He takes her by the hand and in his language speaks, "Talitha cum" – Little girl get up. And she does! ... Can we imagine Jairus' relief, joy – the relief and joy of his wife, that girl's mother? P
I do not know where you have been desperate or where you now are desperate. I only know that as human beings throughout our lives, sooner or later, and sometimes frequently we become desperate.
But I also know this – that God takes on our frail human flesh in Jesus. That One still has the capacity to transform our desperation, move our fear beyond paralysis to trust – to see beyond seeing, to lift us by the hands and give us new life, new life now and new life forever. And that life changes everything – makes us see beyond ourselves, has the capacity to take pain and still give us courage and hope.
Does this mean that things are easy – that we will never be afraid or in great pain? No!
But – even then, especially then, we are not alone. God is with us, even now, especially now. In this Word, in the Word become flesh in Jesus, in the Spirit moving in and through people and events. And new life comes into the midst of pain, suffering and death, to us and through us. We are no longer nameless, or defined by our sicknesses or the words that others speak over us. Instead we are Son, daughter, Jesus' own child. And we can be made whole.
May God open our eyes, hearts and minds to behold our desperation, individually and collectively. May we then not care what others think. Instead may we with Jairus and the formerly nameless woman be driven to be open to jesus' making us and those we love whole. And may we so live, joyfully, generously, fearlessly.
Let us pray - Come lord Jesus, make us whole. Come lord Jesus – help us to share that wholeness with others – that all may have enough and live. Amen.