St. Paul's Episcopal Church

St. Paul's Episcopal Church
425 Cleveland Ave SW
Canton, Ohio 44702
Phone: 330-455-0286
Fax: 330-455-9818
E-mail: office@stpaulscanton.org

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Canton OH
2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27, Mark 5:21-43

June 28, 2009
The Rev. Barbara L Bond

We suffer such anguish for those we love. I remember a husband whose wife lay near death in the cardiac unit, her heart bypass surgery unsuccessful. He had had such hope for her recovery, and I, the cardiac chaplain, was trying to comfort him. But he was inconsolable. He jumped up before me, ripped open his shirt and cried, “Here! Take mine! Take my heart and give it to her!”

We see anguish in the story of David, as he hears about the death of King Saul and Saul’s son Jonathan, David’s dear, dear friend. Whatever difficulties David may have had with Saul in life, Saul’s death and that of his son have unleashed in David a huge lament, a great outpouring of poetic anguish. He cries, “Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided, they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions.” Oh, how hard it is to lose those we love. How we wish for a miracle to overcome death.

When Jesus walked the earth, he inspired great faith in overcoming death. The arc of his own life story tells us that death is not permanent, but a bridge to larger life. Today’s Gospel reading, from the middle of the Gospel of Mark, tells us much about life, death, and healing.

Actually, the reading tells two stories, constructed rather like a sandwich. The outsides are the story of Jairus, a leader in the synagogue, begging Jesus to heal his 12-year-old daughter. The inside story, which interrupts the story of Jairus, is a poor woman looking for healing for herself. It is interesting, isn’t it, that before Jesus can help the important rich man, he stops to heal a poor woman.

Let’s start with her story. She has been plagued with a bleeding disorder for 12 years. This renders her unclean in Jewish society, so she is something of an outcast. She is probably also anemic and weak. We know she is poor, because she has spent all her money on useless medical advice. She sees Jesus and her faith is extraordinary. She risks touching his garment – remember, she is unclean, and this is a holy man – but she is desperate. She reaches out, feeling that if she can just touch his cloak, she will be healed. In that moment, there is a breaking through of the Kingdom of God. She is instantly healed, and she knows it. And Jesus knows it, too – he feels power going out of him, and looks around for her.

Those of you who are caregivers, do you feel power going out of you? Your ministry at the bedside – it costs you enormous energy. Perhaps you know how Jesus felt.

Jesus looks around and finds her, she confesses her action, and he praises her faith. She, the unclean woman, had dared to touch him, and her faith in his healing power was rewarded.

Now let’s look at the other story, of Jairus, the rich and powerful leader in the synagogue. He, too, had faith in Jesus. Neither of these people was a follower of Jesus, but their great need brought them to him. Jairus begs Jesus to come to his home, for his daughter is near death. Jesus comes immediately, stopping briefly to deal with the bleeding woman. While he is stopped, word comes that the little girl has died. Jesus says to Jairus the father, “Do not fear, only believe.” Apparently Jairus does believe, for they continue to his house, where there is great weeping and wailing. Jesus says again that the girl is still alive, is just asleep. The crowd laughs at him.

Do we sometimes laugh and jeer at faith that seems to fly in the face of fact? Are we afraid to believe in the power of God?

Jesus goes into the house with the girl’s parents, and with his inner circle of disciples, Peter, James and John. He takes the child by the hand and says to her, “Talitha cum,” which is Aramaic for “Little girl, get up!” This scene is so dramatic that the Gospel writer gave it to us in its original language, so fresh that we hear Jesus through time and space, telling us to wake up too! Talitha cum! Get up!

And she does. The Kingdom of God breaks through again. Just as the bleeding woman was healed, the child rises from her sick bed, rises from death, and resumes her life, walking around, ready for a snack.

Do you think the strength of our faith can bring forth miracles? I don’t. That would mean that we are in charge, and if we just pray hard enough, God will obey our wishes. No, that is not what these stories are about. Do I believe God can perform miracles? Oh, yes, but not when I order it. God breaks through to us in many situations, and not necessarily just because we request it. The faith demonstrated in these stories is not a faith in miracles, but a faith in God’s power in our lives. All of David’s anguished laments could not bring back the lives of Saul and Jonathan. Nor did Jesus resuscitate or heal everyone he came in touch with. We can’t command a miracle from God. But we can be awed by God’s work in the world, by the everyday miracles of medical science, by the sustaining love of God – God’s love for us, our love for God – to help us through all the challenges of our lives. God’s healing takes many forms. Death itself can be a form of healing, a holy closing of a life well lived, an end to pain and illness. God, who gives us life as a gift, also brings peace and rest.