Sermon for June 28, 2015
5 Pentecost
2 Samuel 1: 17-27; Psalm 130; 2 Corinthians 8:7-15; Mark 5:21-43
by Kim McNamara
Today’s gospel reading about miracles is exceptionally rich with meaning and
messages. On the way to heal a sick girl who turns out to be dead, Jesus gets
touched by a bleeding woman. By the end of the day, Jesus saves the lives of
these two women—one very young and already dead, one a very sick outcast.
From a social justice perspective, these two women are especially symbolic
because, as women, they are second-class citizens in the world Jesus lived in.
In the world of Jesus, women were not as important as men, children were not
as important as adults, and daughters were not as important as sons. In this
world, menstruating women were considered unclean. Bleeding women were
not even to be out in public; so a very sick and hemorrhaging woman would
have been a social outcast.
Through these miracles, however, Jesus confirms that he loves children as
much as adults and women as much as men. Jesus will stop what he is doing,
even when he is in the middle of teaching a great crowd of people, to heal a
child. Jesus will not freak out when an unclean woman touches his clothes
without permission, even though she violates strict cultural and religious rules,
even though she, by her action, has made Jesus unclean in the process. This
characteristic of Jesus—this unflinching commitment to help the meek, the
weak, and the outcast—provides us with a powerful message about good
leaders and offers each of us a perfect role model to live our own lives by.
Within these miracles are even more important messages for us. In fact, today’s
lessons provide us with a foundation upon which we have built many of our own
prayer practices. Our prayers for the people, our prayers for those on our St.
Hugh prayer list, our email prayer chains; these forms of prayer are all modeled
on the results of the miracles in today’s gospel. So, perhaps the most important
message we are to take away from this readings? If we want something, we
need to ask for it.
Jairus, a leader at one of the town synagogues, asks Jesus to heal his sick
daughter. Let’s be clear; Jairus doesn’t just ask, he begs. He begs, not once, but
repeatedly. Right there in front of a great crowd of people, Jairus falls down at
the feet of Jesus and begs for healing for his loved one. Casting image, pride,
and position aside, Jairus puts his whole being into his request. The result?
Jesus hears Jairus—hears the request Jairus begs for—and agrees to help his
daughter.
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The long-suffering woman offers us another perspective about asking for what we
need. This woman has suffered so long, she seems no longer to care what people
might think of her or her behavior. After 12 years of putting up with doctors who
can’t heal her, after spending everything she owns on remedies that do not work,
the woman is no longer willing to stand meekly and obediently by, waiting for an
invitation to be healed. She believes Jesus has the power to heal her, she sees an
opportunity to touch Jesus, and she goes for it. She is willing to break all social
boundaries to get well. If she is afraid that Jesus might ignore her or reject her,
she does not let that stop her; she dives in. And, it works! She is healed!
The only complication is that Jesus immediately recognizes that someone has
touched his clothes and used his power, and he is making a big deal about it. So
much for slipping away unnoticed. Now that she has gotten what she came for—
now that she is cured—a coward might have slunk away into the crowd, hoping
Jesus would not notice her. Although she must have been afraid of the possible
judgement and punishment for her audacity, she is no coward. Even though she
must have been afraid that her newfound health would be taken from her, she is
no thief. She admits to Jesus, and the world, that she was the one who had
touched his clothes. Perhaps the biggest miracle for this woman, as well as for
those who witnessed the healing, is the fact that Jesus responds with love and
kindness. He praises her for her faith; a faith so strong, so courageous, that we
celebrate it even today, so that we might remember that faith requires courage and
a degree of audacity.
But, back to Jairus and his daughter. Jairus was frantic with concern for his
daughter. He had finally gotten Jesus to agree to see his daughter, but what
should have been a simple walk from one end of town to the other, was totally
disrupted and nearly stopped by this messy, pushy, hemorrhaging woman. Of
course, everyone is amazed by the miraculous healing of the sick woman, but if I
had been Jairus, I might have been more than a bit resentful of this woman, this
outcast, who took precious energy and time away from Jesus and from a dying
little girl. Then, just as Jairus had feared, his friends come to tell him it is too late.
His daughter has already died. Imagine Jairus’ disappointment! Imagine the
sadness, the bitterness, and the sense of failure that may have welled up in his
heart. He had failed his daughter.
The other day, as I was thinking about this sermon, I noticed a message on the
electronic billboard of a local church: “God’s delay is not God’s denial.” This
message seems to sums up another lesson in our gospel reading. Yes, Jesus was
delayed, significantly so, but Jairus’s prayer was still answered. In fact, Jairus got
far more than he had pleaded for. No one could have imagined that Jesus would
be able to bring Jairus' daughter back from death. Jesus had never before
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performed the miracle of raising a person from the dead, so no one thought it even
possible. Indeed, people laughed when Jesus suggested that the girl was not
dead.
So, here is another lesson for us. With our rational minds, practical natures, and
fear-based interpretations of life, we often put limitations around the possible
outcomes we pray for. We pray for what seems a reasonable outcome from our
limited perspective. Yet, Jairus’s experience tells us that our prayers are
sometimes answered in impossibly unreasonable, amazing, abundant, and joyful
ways. Although our limited perspectives might prevent us from imagining the
glorious possibilities that can arise from a miracle, many of us can testify to the
amazing miracles we have, personally, witnessed and been blessed by.
Now then, at least one more lesson emerges from these miracles. Based on these
gospel stories, we are encouraged to believe that our faith has the power to help
us heal. Yet, when I volunteered for the Spiritual Care office at Harrison Hospital,
we were forbidden to say, “Your faith will make you well.” Our trainers and
mentors reminded us over and over again, that we would spend time with many
patients who would not be healed, despite the depth and conviction of their faith,
and the faith of their loved ones. You see, we are mortals. Most of us will
ultimately get sick and die. As depressing and stark as this fact might seem in the
middle of today’s joyful celebration of miraculous healings, it is the reality of our
lives.
There will be a day when it seems God is not listening to our prayers, even though
we are begging, even though our friends and family are begging God to intervene.
When these days come, our limited perspective may keep us from recognizing or
understanding that God is listening; God is answering our prayers. While we may
not have an awareness of exactly how God is working in our lives, today’s
readings remind us that God is answering our prayers in God’s time and in God’s
way.
In those especially dark valleys of our lives, do not fear, only believe. Let us pray
that our faith will heal us. Let us pray repeatedly and audaciously, for that gives us
hope and helps us stay focused on our faithful relationship with God. In our daily
prayer practices, however, let us also balance our pleading with silence and
listening, for that gives us the space we need to wait, to listen, and to remember
that God is listening, God is loving, and God is healing.
I wait for the Lord; my soul waits for him; in his word is my hope.
Oh Lord, thy will be done. Amen.