June 28, 2015

         “Don’t fear, only believe.” It’s surprising how often Jesus, or an angel speaks these or similar words. It’s as if we don’t get it, or we can’t believe it. Every time we find ourselves near to something holy, we lose our nerve. We don’t know where we stand and we doubt what we believe.

         I think we find ourselves in this place very often these days. We have no end of troubles. The world is spinning out of control (as if it had ever been in our control.) Perhaps we are facing the realization that things have never been what they seemed and we have to make sense of that. Beyond all of this talk about our world, we find our selves living in difficult circumstances. We have to make ends meet. We worry about our health. We worry about our children. We worry about the future.

         On a particular day in Palestine two thousand years ago, Jesus is making his way through a village by the Sea of Galilee. There is a big crowd of people excited to see the teacher they have heard so much about. Jairus, a leader of the synagogue falls at his feet, and begs him, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” So often we hear about religious authorities who question Jesus. Here, we find an important man who is desperate. He does not worry about how he looks or who will judge him. His little girl is dying. He’ll do anything.

         Is there a worse pain than watching a child suffer? What parent wouldn’t gladly change places with their dying child? Jesus with compassion goes along with Jairus to see what he can do.

         Along the way, a woman quietly approaches Jesus. She has her own tragic story. She has had an illness that causes bleeding for twelve years. She has spent all she has on doctors and she is no better and getting worse. On top of this, her disease makes her ritually unclean. She should not be in the crowd. She should remain apart (to avoid contagion) and she risks her life by coming near to Jesus. In her mind she thinks, “If I could only touch his cloak, I will be made well.” She touches the hem of his cloak and she is healed.

         Jesus knows something has happened. He asks, “Who touched me!” The disciples helpfully point out that there are crowds of people touching him, but Jesus knows someone has been healed. The woman approaches Jesus in fear. She may be exposed for violating ritual laws. Instead, Jesus blesses her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well: go in peace and be healed of your disease.”

         At this moment, a group comes from Jairus’ house. The little girl has died – no need to do anything else.

         We get to these moments in our lives as well. Everything we have tried, fails. We have no options. There’s nothing to do but move on – to bury the dead, to pick up the pieces, to begin the empty work of trying to move on. Jesus says, “Do not fear, only believe.” Believe in what? Believe in Whom? What can we do when we have nothing left to do? What can we believe when the worst we imagine has happened? I’m going to repeat what I said last week. Faith is not trusting in the impossible. Faith is trusting in the promises of God.

         There is an overlap of language when we talk of being made well. The words used in the story can also be read, “to be saved.” Jairus asks, “lay your hands on her, so that she may be saves and live.” The woman thinks to herself, “if I but touch his clothes, I will be saved.” Jesus pronounces, “Daughter, your faith has saved you.” Healing and salvation are linked. Jesus promises to heal more than our bodies. Jesus would make us whole in every way that we think about it.

         The woman who is healed is blessed in her healing. She is not only made physically well, she is restored to community. She is not outcast. She is no longer shunned. I wonder how much of our desire for healing is also a desire to be restored to a full life. We don’t want to be dependent or pitied or blamed or separated from the life of the whole. Jesus would restore us to good relationships with our neighbors and with God. Without this, there is no healing.

         Jesus enters the home of Jairus and the mourning has already started. Jesus throws them all out, despite their mocking, or confusion. Is she only asleep? Maybe Jesus knows more than the crowd. Maybe Jesus is trying to keep it quiet. Whatever is true, he enters the room of the little girl and takes her hand. “Little girl, get up!” She stands up and starts to walk around the room. Jesus tells them to give her something to eat. Is she saved? Is she resurrected? She is restored to her family and she begins a new life.

         We read these words and are they impossible to believe? These healings happened two thousand years ago through the hands of Jesus. What business do we have asking for healing?

         Faith is not about the impossible. Faith is believing the promises of God. God promises to save us. God promises to resurrect us. When we pray for healing we are “Putting ourselves in a place where God can work in us.” (To copy a phrase from Richard Foster and The Celebration of Discipline) When we come with small worries and little problems, we often come with a list of what we want and how we want it. It is a place to begin and God can honor even our smallest prayers. When we are at our end, when we’ve run out of options, when we don’t know where to return or what will happen next – then we come to God with empty hands. It is then that God can work in us in a different way. This is where God promises to save us.

         In our worry and in our fear, what are we asking? Are we only asking that God will keep us going exactly as we are? We may not see much change because we haven’t really asked for it. If we come with empty hands in desperation: that may be a place where we are open to being saved. God will work powerfully to save us.