“After the death of Saul, David returned from defeating the Amalekites and stayed in Ziklag two days. […] David took up this lament concerning Saul and his son Jonathan, and ordered that the men of Judah be taught this lament of the bow (it is written in the Book of Jashar):
“Your glory, O Israel, lies slain on your heights.
How the mighty have fallen!
Tell it not in Gath, proclaim it not in the streets of Ashkelon,
lest the daughters of the Philistines be glad,
lest the daughters of the uncircumcised rejoice.
O mountains of Gilboa, may you have neither dew nor rain,
nor fields that yield offerings of grain.
For there the shield of the mighty was defiled,
the shield of Saul– no longer rubbed with oil.
From the blood of the slain, from the flesh of the mighty,
the bow of Jonathan did not turn back,
the sword of Saul did not return unsatisfied.
Saul and Jonathan– in life they were loved and gracious,
and in death they were not parted.
They were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions.
O daughters of Israel, weep for Saul,
who clothed you in scarlet and finery,
who adorned your garments with ornaments of gold.
How the mighty have fallen in battle!
Jonathan lies slain on your heights.
I grieve for you, Jonathan my brother;
you were very dear to me.
Your love for me was wonderful,
more wonderful than that of women.
How the mighty have fallen!
The weapons of war have perished!””
– II Samuel 1:1, 17-27
“When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” So he went with him. And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him.
Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.
Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” He looked all around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James.
When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.” – Mark 5:21-43
Today’s scriptures are a bit unusual in that they don’t talk directly about God. Jesus takes part in the New Testament reading, but he’s not talking about God, and the people around him don’t know yet that he is God. The people see Jesus as a prophet and as a healer. Except for a few of the disciples, no-one knows yet that Jesus is the Messiah.
So our readings today tell us three stories about people of faith.
I think sometimes when we read about people of faith in the Bible we tend to see them as sort of like super-saints, but they’re not. They’re everyday people like you and me. In this case, they are: a shepherd, a housewife, and a lay leader from the local synagogue.
What makes the people we meet in the Bible exceptional is they share everything with God. They hold nothing back. And God honors that.
As it happens, in today’s readings all three people we meet are facing some kind of crisis in their lives. In the Old Testament we see David dealing with the death of his best friend; and in the New Testament we meet a woman who has been sick for a long time, and a man whose daughter is dying.
Let’s take a look at each story.
Our reading from II Samuel – the reading itself – is a song of mourning, written by David on the death of King Saul and his son Jonathan. These two men lost their lives – in the prime of their lives – in a battle defending Israel. (If we go back into the history of Israel we find out the reason David was not fighting alongside them and defending them had to do with Saul’s disobedience to God and David’s subsequent estrangement… but at a time like this it would not be appropriate for David to point that out.) Saul was David’s father-in-law, and Jonathan was David’s best friend. David and Jonathan were like Butch and Sundance, or like Mel Gibson and Danny Glover in the Lethal Weapon movies. They were inseparable, the very best of buddies.
If you’ve ever had friend like that you know friendships like that are rare. Men and women who have fought in battles together sometimes find this kind of friendship. Co-workers in the mission field, or in medical care sometimes find this kind of friendship. Every now and then it ‘just happens’. But most of us only get two or three friends like this in a lifetime, if we’re lucky. To lose a friend like this is devastating, because they leave a hole in your heart and in your life that can never be filled. When a friend like this dies we wish the world could stop turning just for a moment, to acknowledge that someone important is gone.
So what do you do at a time like that? David sang out his pain. David was a songwriter for many years. He used to sing to King Saul when Saul was troubled. He composed many of the psalms, which were the hymns back in those days.
David sings out his grief, praising King Saul as a mighty man of war, and grieving for Jonathan who he calls “brother”. David is not glorifying violence and killing here. What he’s doing is expressing honor to those who served their country and gave their last full measure in its defense. And in doing so he gives us a song that touches our hearts across the centuries, touching anyone who’s ever lost a good friend. ‘How the mighty have fallen!’ David cries. ‘Men of glory, worthy of love and honor, lie slain on the field. How the mighty have fallen!’
I’ll come back to David in a moment, but in the gospel of Mark we meet two more people. The first is a man named Jairus, whose daughter is very ill. Any of us who have ever sat up with a sick child know his pain. He’s worried, he’s spending sleepless nights, he’s praying, he’d give anything to make her better. He’d even change places with her if he could.
Being a lay leader in the synagogue, Jairus has heard of Jesus. He knows Jesus is miracle worker, and he needs a miracle right about now. He just has to get Jesus to where his daughter is before it’s too late. He begs Jesus to come. Some translations of the Bible say he begged Jesus ‘repeatedly’. Apparently Jesus wasn’t moving very quickly… which is understandable considering the size of the crowd.
And then, on the way to Jairus’ house, there’s a delay! We meet a third person, a woman whose name we don’t know, though some people in the early church felt she deserved a name and called her ‘Veronica’. For twelve years she has had some kind of medical condition that causes her to bleed – based on the description, most likely a menstrual period that won’t stop.
Anyone who has ever been through serious illness or surgery knows how frightening is, and the frustration of missing out on life, and all the expenses involved. Illness disrupts a person’s life in a way that nothing else does. In this particular woman’s case, her condition makes her anemic, and she’s getting progressively weaker, and most likely suffering from depression because of a low energy levels. And on top of that, she has a social problem. Under the Law of Moses, her condition makes her ritually ‘unclean’. According to the law she shouldn’t be going out of the house, and she certainly shouldn’t be mixing in a crowd this large! But she’s desperate. For twelve years – as long as Jairus’ little daughter has been alive – she’s been in pain. She has spent all her money on doctors and she’s only gotten worse.
And now she hears that Jesus can heal people with a touch, and she’s convinced he can heal her. Somewhere deep down she knows that what is impossible with human beings is possible with God.
So she makes up her mind to sneak up behind Jesus and touch his robe. She says to herself, “all I have to do is touch his garment and I’ll be well. I don’t have to say anything to anybody, I don’t have to disturb anybody, I don’t have to make anybody unclean from coming into contact with me.”
And things work out just like she planned. She touches Jesus’ robe and immediately the blood stops, and she can feel energy and health beginning to return to her body. After twelve years she’s finally well.
Except that’s not the end of the story. Jesus stops. Something has happened, he knows, and he calls out over the crowd, “who touched me?”
The disciples look around at a crowd that’s as tightly packed as Times Square on New Year’s Eve and say to Jesus, “How can you say ‘who touched me’? Everybody’s pressing in all around you.”
I suspect Jesus already knows who touched him, but he also knows the woman needs to share her story. And there are people present who need to hear it. So he creates a space in which she can speak. And scared and trembling, she falls at Jesus’ feet and tells him everything – every detail, the whole story. And when she’s finished, Jesus says, “your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”
She came looking for physical healing, and she got that, but she got far more: healing of the heart, and healing of the soul. This is the meaning of the word shalom – holistic well-being and peace.
While all this is happening, and in fact as Jesus is still speaking, people come from Jairus’ house and say, “don’t bother the teacher any longer. Your daughter is dead.”
I can’t begin to imagine what Jairus felt in that moment. But before he can say anything, Jesus says to him, “don’t be afraid, just believe.”
And taking Jairus, Peter, James, and John, Jesus tells the rest of the crowd to stay put. The deathbed of a child is no place for curiosity-seekers and hangers-on. When they get to Jairus’ house Jesus chases out the mourners, who make fun of Jesus when he says the girl is not dead.
Jairus and his wife enter their daughter’s bedroom and look at their little girl. Gently Jesus takes her by the hand and says, ‘little girl, get up’. And she does. And grief turns into joy.
I find it interesting that at the end of this great miracle Jesus says to Jairus ‘don’t tell anyone what happened’ when in the previous miracle, Jesus makes public something that happened in secret. God’s ways are not our ways! At any rate, we’ve met three people who are very everyday people, living everyday lives. They don’t preach, they don’t quote the law… but where it comes to God they hold nothing back.
David shows us is how a person of God grieves. A person of God is open-hearted toward God. As people of God, when pain comes into our lives, we do not despair. We can hurt very deeply; but we pour out our grief to God. David is not afraid to be passionate in God’s presence. And neither should we be.
The woman with the flow of blood gives us an example of confession. Confession is not sitting in a box talking to a priest, or even necessarily admitting sin. The word confession simply means to speak the truth. Telling God what we see and what we’ve experienced and how we’ve felt and what we’ve lived through. Yes, God already knows it – so did Jesus in our story. But Jesus knows this woman needs to tell her story, and so he listens… and he knows other people need to hear it, and so he asks her to speak. And the same is true of us. We all, each one of us, have a story to tell, and we all need to share it, and there people who need to hear it.
Some of you know I was doing some training in a retirement home recently and as part of my training I interviewed four residents and basically wrote their histories. I listened to their stories and wrote them down and illustrated them with photographs from ‘back in the day’. What started out as something kind of fun became a lot more as one resident found forgiveness for something that had been bothering him for decades, and another resident, in the early stages of Alzheimers, lost her husband and she now has something that will help her children and grandchildren remember. Our stories need to be told, and they need to be heard, and that’s part of God’s plan.
And Jairus gives us an example of how to ask God for what we need, and keep on asking, trusting God in spite of what we hear and see around us. Ask, and then trust. Jesus knows what he’s doing.
So as we walk through life, we seek to be open-hearted and passionate with God; completely open with God about our lives and our experiences; asking God for what we need and trusting God’s provision.
Let’s pray. Lord Jesus, open our hearts toward you more and more, and open our lives to you, and build up faith in us, for our joy and for your honor and glory, AMEN.
Preached at Carnegie United Methodist Church and Crafton United Methodist Church, 6/28/15