Mission Interrupted (or was it?): Breaking Boundaries
Luke 8:40-56 Mar 15, 2009 Lent #3
Jarius:
I danced the day my daughter was born. It was twelve years ago; we had tried for many years, many times we had thought my wife was pregnant but each time something went wrong, and we were childless. Others began to talk, or snicker, or look upon us with pity. But all that changed, the pregnancy went well, the day came, and from outside I heard that first soft cry, saw the smile on the midwife’s face, and heard the words, “it’s a girl!” I jumped for joy, shouted praise and thanks to God, danced with my friends, and then held my baby girl close through her whole first night of life outside the womb.
Veronica:
I cried the day I realized I was really sick. It was twelve years ago. I had been menstruating, but it should have stopped long ago. It didn’t, and it still hasn’t. For twelve long years I have suffered. You don’t know how I have suffered. Yes, I’ve suffered physically – I have been tired for twelve years, my skin is pale and my eyes are washed out, I feel weakness and breathlessness, I’m often dizzy and lightheaded. But far more I’ve suffered – my husband divorced me, as I couldn’t touch him, couldn’t care for him, couldn’t love him. He left me with a sizable amount of money, which I’ve now completely wasted seeking doctor after doctor in the hopes that one might have a cure. But there is nothing, and still I am sick. But my deepest suffering is in my isolation. I cannot participate in my community, because I am unclean. A woman who is bleeding may not touch, may not interact, may not participate in any way, lest others also become unclean. So I have been on the edges. The margins. Poor, alone, outcast. Yes, I have suffered more than you can possible imagine.
Jarius:
A happy home. Many times of joy and celebration, feasts with friends, a deep sense of God with us. In time my responsibilities grew, as a learned man I gradually accepted more and more responsibility in our town. I am not a Rabbi, not a Pharisee, I am the main elder in our Synagogue, responsible to arrange our services and ensure faithful obedience to our law of ritual purity. I am well known, and well respected, praise God. We have always been blessed, and now that we have our child, though only one, our family is whole.
Veronica:
A miserable life. That’s what I would call it, miserable. Begging for food, from a distance. Cut off from all the life, all the joy, all the laughter, all the things that actually make life worth living. If only I had the courage, I could end my suffering, but I can’t, so I pray for death to come. My life is broken.
Jarius:
She is twelve now. Becoming a woman, entering the prime of her life. What a celebration on her twelfth birthday, as she became a woman! Again I danced, this time with my daughter, a beautiful woman with a life of promise ahead of her. Her mother and I are considering several fine young men for her to marry, and there are many offers. All ahead is life and joy and hope.
Veronica:
Hope. She is lucky, she has that ahead of her. I had given up on hope, every time I had hoped for a cure, found a new doctor, spent more of what little I had, I was disappointed. But then one day as I sat in the dust outside the town begging for scraps of food, I heard people talking of a new teacher, one with power the likes of which we have not heard among our people since the days of Elijah. His name was Jesus, and I overheard them tell of how He could heal the sick with a word. Jesus… dare I hope again?
Jarius:
I go in to kiss her on the forehead and wake her up, as I do each day, and her head feels warmer than it should. A fever, I think, and make sure to mention it to her mother and our servants. Some rest, some time, some broth, I’m sure she will be fine again in a few days.
Veronica:
I don’t know that I’ll ever be fine again. But maybe I can hope. Can I? I can maybe try this Jesus; if the stories are true, I might be healed, my life might return.
Jarius:
Her life might depart? It has been too many days, the fever should have broken, but she is getting worse and worse. She is slipping away, I feel like I am dying with her. The doctors have tried everything they know, they are getting more and more serious, I heard them whisper about alerting the mourners, they say she is close to death.
Veronica:
Could I be close to life?
Jarius:
What can I do? I will do anything, absolutely anything, in a heartbeat. I’ve heard of a teacher, some say He has done miracles, others say He does not respect the law I’ve given my life to upholding. I heard He eats with tax collectors and sinners. But if there is even a possibility that He could help… could I go to Jesus?
Veronica:
Could I go to Jesus? Yes, I must go. I must try, this one last thing. There will be a crowd, I’ll have to hide. I’ll have to sneak in, hide my face lest the others recognize me, lest they know that when I brush past them they have become unclean. If I can just get close enough to touch the tassel on His shawl, then maybe the power of God will flow from Him and heal me. I must go to Jesus.
Jarius:
I must go to Jesus. I don’t care if He is unclean, if He eats with sinners, if it costs me my position in the Synagogue, I must go to Jesus and fall at His feet and beg him to come and touch my daughter. Where is He – I must find Him now – I must run to Him. He is where? Down by the lake, just arrived back from the Garesenes? He must be unclean, but I don’t care.
Veronica:
I know I am unclean, but I don’t care. I’m going to Jesus, He has just arrived by boat and is being met by the crowd. I will join them.
But wait, who is there ahead of me? Is that Jarius, the ruler of the synagogue? His daughter is dying? I hope Jesus can help her, like I hope He can help me. Yes, they are going, Jesus is following Jarius, now is my chance, I must slip into the mob, push and wiggle, I must get close enough to Jesus, I must reach out, I need to touch Jesus, I need to touch Him, just a little further, just a little more, almost there, Yes! I touched Him!! I touched the fringe of His robe! And, what is happening? could it be? yes, Praise God!! I am healed! The bleeding stopped, it really did, I really am healed, my body is whole, I dared to hope, dared to believe, dared to have faith, and yes! It is done!! I must slip away quickly, back into the crowd, get away before I am discovered.
Wait. Why are they stopping, why aren’t the people moving anymore, why isn’t Jesus moving? What is going on??
Jarius:
Wait. Why are they stopping, why aren’t the people moving anymore, why isn’t Jesus moving? What is going on?? We must hurry, my daughter is dying, please…
Veronica:
Who touched Him? Is that what He asked? Does He know, will I be exposed?? “No, nope, I didn’t touch Him…”. There, that man is reasonable, listen to him Jesus, the whole crowd is pushing in, could have been anyone, please just keep moving, let me hide, I’m an outcast.
Oh, I hear Him speak again. He knows, He felt the power go out from Him, He is looking around, He will see me, I cannot hide anymore. Wait… wait a moment, yes, it is true, I don’t have to hide anymore – I am well again, I am healed, Praise God I am healed!
Jesus, Jesus, it was me! I touched you, (I’m terrified, I’m shaking!), but it was me, and for twelve long years I have been unclean, bleeding constantly, suffering terribly, and I thought if I could just touch the tassel of Your garment God might look kindly upon me and restore me. And, praise God, He has healed me!
“Daughter”… He called me daughter, part of a family again? Restored to relationship? Healed not just in body but in community?? Praise God, I am whole and I am free! Yes, Jesus, I will go in shalom, for all is well. I am restored.
Jarius:
I am ruined. I’ve never felt such grief, such pain, my dear daughter, my precious only child, has died. Maybe Jesus could have helped, but He stopped to chat with a woman who has been sick for twelve years, certainly my daughter’s need was greater, more urgent, more immediate. He could have come back to help her, could have told her to wait just a few more hours, in order to spare my daughter’s life. My servant is right, it is too late. There is anger, there is frustration, but I can barely feel them through the grief.
Pardon me? Did you say, “Don’t be afraid. Just have faith, and she will be healed.”? What do you mean “healed”, she is dead. All right, I don’t know what to do but go home anyway, I just feel numb, if you want to come, if you say “she will be healed”, then please come. I don’t know how or what You can do now, they say she is gone, oh please, anything for this to not hurt so much, anything…
We are here, there she is, my baby, Jesus, do You see her, there she is, yes I see she is dead, she is gone… please, Jesus, please…
He is reaching out His hand. He is taking her hand in His. I hear Him yell, it is loud, He says, “My child, get up!” Her eyes open, that smile returns, she sits up and swings her legs over the side, and gets immediately to her feet, she speaks, she laughs, Jesus smiles, we embrace through the tears and the shouts and the cries and the amazement and we jump and dance. Jesus calls for some food, and we must celebrate. This child of mine was dead, and lives again. We are restored.
Luke 8:40-56 (NLT)
40 On the other side of the lake the crowds welcomed Jesus, because they had been waiting for him. 41 Then a man named Jairus, a leader of the local synagogue, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with him to come home with him. 42 His only child, a daughter, who was about twelve years old, was dying.
As Jesus went with him, he was surrounded by the crowds. 43 A woman in the crowd had suffered for twelve years with constant bleeding, having spent everything she had on doctors, and she could find no cure. 44 Coming up behind Jesus, she touched the fringe of his robe. Immediately, the bleeding stopped. 45 “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.
Everyone denied it, and Peter said, “Master, this whole crowd is pressing up against you.” 46 But Jesus said, “Someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me.” 47 When the woman realized that she could not stay hidden, she began to tremble and fell to her knees in front of him. The whole crowd heard her explain why she had touched him and that she had been immediately healed. 48 “Daughter,” he said to her, “your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”
49 While he was still speaking to her, a messenger arrived from the home of Jairus, the leader of the synagogue. He told him, “Your daughter is dead. There’s no use troubling the Teacher now.”
50 But when Jesus heard what had happened, he said to Jairus, “Don’t be afraid. Just have faith, and she will be healed.”
51 When they arrived at the house, Jesus wouldn’t let anyone go in with him except Peter, John, James, and the little girl’s father and mother. 52 The house was filled with people weeping and wailing, but he said, “Stop the weeping! She isn’t dead; she’s only asleep.”
53 But the crowd laughed at him because they all knew she had died. 54 Then Jesus took her by the hand and said in a loud voice, “My child, get up!” 55 And at that moment her spirit returned, and she immediately stood up! Then Jesus told them to give her something to eat. 56 Her parents were overwhelmed, but Jesus insisted that they not tell anyone what had happened.
Conclusion:
Why does God sometimes seem to get His priorities wrong? Surely Jarius’ need was more urgent and Jesus should have healed her first. That other woman could wait a little longer if it had already been twelve years. Yet God helps her and lets Jarius’ daughter die. Why? Yes, Jesus raises her back to life, but He let her die in the first place, causing incredible, though not long lasting, grief and pain. Why let them all suffer so much when the other woman could have just hung on a little longer?
Why does suffering have to be the great leveler – the thing that brings a well-respected ruler to his knees before Jesus and the thing that brings the outcast woman to her knees before Jesus? Why does it have to be deep pain and a last resort that brings people to Jesus? Why do some people who suffer turn to Jesus and others turn away? What do I do when I suffer – turn to Jesus or turn away?
And why do I tend to rush along without seeing the needs around me, while Jesus is so sensitive that He feels the power flow out of Him at a simple touch, then stops to talk about it even though that delay means another person dies? Why do I live at such a speed that I can’t stop to listen, to be present, to hear the deep needs and point people to Jesus; especially when I’m running so quickly to do something for Jesus that I miss the thing Jesus wants me to do that is right in front of me?
And, ultimately, who is this Jesus anyway? Nature obeys Him, healing power goes out from Him from a touch on the tassel, He calls a girl back from death and restores her to her grieving parents. Is this for real?
And if it is for real, is it true that I can actually be a part of it? Would Jesus call me “daughter” or “son”? Would He touch the places of pain and suffering and grief in my life, if I truly come and fall at His feet?
And if He makes me His child, walks with me through my pain, then what? Will I have to leave everything behind to follow Him? Will He let me serve Him, will He let me follow, will He let me spread the story and grab other hurting people and bring them to Jesus? Could I really be a part of something that would honestly change people’s present, change their eternity? Would Jesus really entrust to me His mission, the message of His love, the opportunity to tell the stories and bring the love to action?
Yes, He would. Yes, He has.
You are the children of God, bearers of the light, witnesses to the power at work in and through you, with the story and the Spirit and the commandment. Go in His Name, His Power, and His Community. That His Kingdom may come, and His will be done.
