2 Sam 1:11 We begin with a death, namely, with the death of Saul. The first king of Israel. A great man. Anointed of God. In a way, we always begin each sermon, each bible reading, each divine service with the lingering notion of death. It’s all around us. In our families, our friends, our news, our books, movies, T.V. shows, our art, our history, our wars and conflicts, the death of entire animal species, the death of the church, the death of morality, the death of the world around us. Death cries out to us day and night. It reminds us that it is ever present. And yes, even Saul, the first king, the anointed of God, could die. Though David did not consider it right to reach out his hand and smite the anointed, death had no reservations in doing so. Death is no respecter of persons. Death comes for the anointed one. Death comes for the king. 2 Sam 1:17 But it was not Saul only, but also his son Jonathan, that David loved, who was killed. Death is no respecter or relationships. It is no respecter of affections or emotions. You say to death you cannot take my father, my husband, my friend, my son, but death does not listen. Death takes and takes until all is lost, until all is gone.
Wis 1:13-15 This should rightly make you feel uneasy. Because God did not make death. Death should not be. Wis 2:23-24 For God created all things so that they might have life and being in their fullness. God created all things with the very fabric of life and eternity woven into them. The poison of hell, of death and suffering and decay, it is not God’s design. It is perversion, it is negation, it is lack and absence, it is the mockery of Satan. Your entire being rightly rebels against the notion of death. It rightly cries out that this be rectified. 2 Sam 1:17-27 Do not be ashamed when you, like David, lament the death of a loved one, the death of strangers, the looming death that we will all face. Weep. Weep you people. For Saul is dead, the anointed is dead. Weep you Martha, Weep you Mary, Weep David, Bathsheba, Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah, for death comes to all. It comes to the high and mighty, and it comes to the young and lowly. Mark 5:22-23 And just so, it came to Jairus’ daughter.
Note here with me please, Jairus is the leader of the synagogue. Now, the Jews in the synagogues, the religiously rigorous Jews, the Pharisees, they were not friends with Jesus, but antagonized him throughout. Not only near the end, but the whole way through. And it started for reasons we will see in this very text, but as we have just seen in the last few weeks through mark, they have already named him possessed and demonic, they have already accused him of breaking the Sabbath, for spending time with the unclean, the sinners, the tax collectors, the zealots, for not fasting, and for what they consider blasphemy. And yet here we have, the leader of a synagogue. Not only coming to Jesus in a friendly way, without animosity, but coming to Jesus as the source of life, to receive from Him, the salvation of his daughter. Not asking… begging. Not once, but repeatedly. Not on his feet, but fallen down before Him on his knees, begging for his daughter’s life.
Jairus, see, is at the top of society, a leader in the synagogue. It makes sense to heal his daughter. This can be a bridge between Jesus and the religious elite. He could have come out well on the other side of this in the public opinion. Except… there was a woman. If Jairus, was at the top of society, this woman was bellow the bottom of it. She suffered from perpetual menstruation. For 12 years. This was no small thing, not even today. Individuals still suffer from this to this dad, and it completely derails their life. They cannot have children, they often cannot go to school, it makes working very difficult if its possible at all. Yet in ancient Jewish society it was far worse. As Lev 11, stated, for those living under the ceremonial cleanliness code by which Jewish society lived, a menstruating woman was unclean. You could not even touch her, lest you also become unclean, and unable to fully participate in society. This woman could not get married, of course women at this time could not have jobs or own property. Not being married was a death sentence. Society had abandoned her. Cast her out. It was illegal for her to even be in that crowd. Moreover, it was illegal for a woman to touch a man that she was not married to. And there she was. Interrupting Jesus as He was on His way to go and save a 12 year old girl from dying. And there, in hope against hope. In hope, against the rules of society, against Levitical laws, she reached out and touched Jesus’ garments. All that she had to go on would tell her that not only would this not work, but that she would be caught and punished for breaking the Law, and Jesus would be made unclean. So in her superstition, her irrationality, and boldly imperfect faith she bet all that she had to give on Christ, that He would heal her. That was all she wanted. She just wanted to be made well, and to go away in peace, secretly. It was embarrassing enough just to be there. Nobody wants to be, caught breaking purity laws, marriage laws, even less would anyone ever want to be known as the woman who interrupted Jesus on his way to save a child who died because He didn’t get there in time. And so she touched Him. And in her coming, against reason, against what was proper, what was legal, what made sense, in her imperfect faith – she was made well. And He, the God who knows all things, asked, who touched me? Not for His sake, as if He didn’t know. Not for her sake, to take her to task, but for the sake of everyone else around. So that in her coming forward, He would show her that He isn’t merely interested in physically healing her, but in showing her, and everyone else around them, that she is known by Him. That she, by faith, is a daughter of the most High. So that the society around her, who cast her out, who forbid her from being present, to cosigned her to social and likely an eventual physical death, would see that God has time for one’s such as these. That she is healed. That she is restored. That her life may now begin again where it left off when she first bled.
If you still aren’t feeling the impact of this gospel text. Let me put it in context for you. Pick a loved one. Your spouse. One of your children. Your father or mother. Now imagine that they’re dying. And there is a doctor present, who has the capability to heal your loved one. And you convince them, to go with you to heal that loved one. But along the way, they’re interrupted by someone who has a non-life threatening condition. And as a result of the doctor helping that person, taking even longer than the person wanted it to take, your loved one dies. What would you think? How you feel? Likely, Jairus was thinking that Jesus just didn’t care. Perhaps this was all one big insult against him because he was a leader of the synagogue, that Jesus would instead waste time with the lowly rabble and disease ridden until Jairus’ daughter would die just to mess with him, to get back at those religious elites. So often we feel this way, that Jesus doesn’t care. That He has cast us off. That God is playing a trick on us.
But remember this; that for every 10 that Jesus healed. There was 100 or more that He didn’t. And bear in mind that His ministry was not entirely comprised of healing. He moved from healing, to teaching, to dying. Why is it the text, is not a text about Jesus healing Jarius’ daughter, but a text about Jesus being interrupted as He is on His way to heal Jairus’ daughter? Because Physical healing isn’t the goal here. The ministry of love and restoration is. Yes, it is true that Christ rose Jarius’ daughter from the dead at 12 years old. But she still died. In a way, you may think of it like this; that along Christ’s ministry, His walk towards the cross to die and to be resurrected for the forgiveness of our sins, everything else, the resurrection of Jairus’ daughter, the calming of the wind and the waves, it is all Christ letting us interrupt Him on His way to resurrect the dead, so that we might know that we are seen by Him and that He might name us as sons and daughters of the living God.
See, it is not in the resurrection of little girls from the dead along the way to the cross, but the cross itself which brings forth the resurrection of all those who were dead. It is precisely, the death of the anointed king of Israel, which we began with through David’s lament in 2 Samuel 1, fulfilled in Christ who is the true anointed King of Israel, which spells the end of death, and brings eternal salvation for all. And so death comes for the anointed one, and so death comes for the king. The mighty king, the true anointed one. The true king of Israel. Christ, meaning anointed one, Messiah. The true glory of Israel, not Saul, but Christ. The true king not Saul but Christ, the true glory of Israel not Saul but Christ. Slain on Israel’s high place, on Mount Golgatha, the holy hill of Israel. In the midst of the battle for your soul, the mighty King, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Our God was put to death and killed. Not even God has escaped death. The scoffers and mockers flocked to see Him hang there, flocked to see His death confirmed that they might rejoice. Not philistines, but religious Jews. Roman Soldiers. Politicians. Every day average people like you and I, the people who hung Him there. The people who killed God.
But do not despair, only believe.
And in doing so, death itself is put to death, and the end of death strikes the beginning of new life in the death and resurrection of Christ our God in whom we too are struck dead and raised to new life. Do not fear, only believe. For righteousness is immortal. Just as Christ took Jairus’ Daughter by the hand, called her to arise, and brought her back to life so now He places Himself into your own hands to eat and to drink, as He does the true work of resurrection and redemption, and says arise, for through my death you will have life, and through the spilling of my blood, you have been forgiven. Amen.
