In the lengthy passage we have just read, two desperate people came to Jesus and saw in Him their only hope. Their circumstances were different, but their condition was the same, and the compassion they found in Christ was sufficient to meet the needs they brought to Him. As we look at these two individuals, we see glimpses of our own lives – though our circumstances vary, our condition is universal, and our only hope can be found in the compassion of Jesus Christ. And where desperate faith meets divine compassion, miracles take place and lives are changed.
I. Our Lives Involve Contrasting Circumstances
On the surface it appears that Jairus and the afflicted woman in this passage have nothing in common. Their circumstances differ in many ways.
Consider the simple fact that we know the name of Jairus, but not the woman. It is not typical of Mark to include a person’s proper name in his gospel, but here he does with Jairus, likely because he was a well-known person in town. We may safely presume that the narrative has shifted back to
Their positions in society are notably different as well. Jairus was a respected man of position, a religious leader among the Jews. Mark refers to him as a synagogue official. These officials were laypeople who had the responsibility for conducting worship and religious instruction. He would have been known and respected by every faithful Jew in the city.
The woman on the other hand held no position of respect. We are not told the nature of her affliction, only that she had a hemorrhage, literally a “flow of blood.” If her medical condition was, as most scholars speculate, a gynecological disorder, then she would not only be unknown in the synagogue, she would have been unwelcome there. The Old Testament Law stipulated in Leviticus 15 that a woman was to be considered unclean during the days of her menstruation. If her condition involved a flow of blood which lasted longer than her regular menstruation, she was to be considered unclean until her bloodflow ceased. Everything and everyone with which she made contact during that time was considered unclean as well. So, if Jairus represents people with religious standing, this unnamed woman represents those who are religious outcasts.
The contrast of their conditions continue as we see the state in which they had lived for twelve years. For twelve years, Jairus has known the joy of fatherhood. Luke tells us in his account that his daughter was his only child, and one can sense the tender affection of his heart as he pleads for his “little daughter” at the feet of Jesus. The last twelve years of the woman’s life were considerably different. She had not known personal contact or tender affection at all during that time. For twelve years, she had only known agony, misery, and rejection.
The contrast of their conditions is seen in their approach to Jesus. Jairus comes to Jesus publicly, face to face. The woman comes privately, secretly as it were, sneaking up behind Him.
With Jairus’ position of influence, he was likely a man of some means as well. The woman may have been at some time, but she is now destitute from years of pursuing medical treatments. Mark tells us that she had spent all that she had.
There is likewise a contrast of their concern. Jairus comes with a heavy heart for another person – “his little daughter.” The woman comes with concern for herself.
No, their circumstances could not be more different. And so it is with every other human being in the world. We all have different stories to tell. We have all traveled down different roads in life. Some have recognizable names, others are just faces in the crowd. Some have positions of influence, others only know the scorn and rejection of life as an outcast. Some are rich, others are poor. Some are healthy, others are severely afflicted. Some carry great burdens of concern for their own well-being, others are heavy-hearted over the affliction of another. Some seek Christ’s help openly, others are more secretive in their attempts to gain audience with Him, suffering in silence and private shame. Yet no matter how diversely our circumstances may be contrasted, there is another reality that we must see here:
II. Our Lives Share Common Conditions
Though their life stories intersect at no other point, they come together in this: Jairus and the unnamed woman of affliction are both desperate. Jairus’ daughter was at the point of death. There was nothing more that could be done for her, and from all outward appearances, it seemed that she would not live much longer.
The woman had sought help from every source that promised her relief. “She had endured much at the hands of many physicians.” We have preserved for us in the Talmud a record of some of the treatments which were used in those days for an illness of this nature. The individual may have been prescribed to drink a goblet of wine that contained a compounded powder of rubber, alum and garden crocuses. Or she may be given a dose of Persian onions cooked in wine, administered with a summons to “arise out of your flow of blood.” Some treated these conditions with sudden and radical shock. At other times, it was prescribed to carry the ash of an ostrich egg in a certain type of cloth.[2] Certainly all of this, she had tried, and then some, but to no avail. In fact, Mark tells us that her condition had actually gotten worse at the hands of these doctors. And what’s more, Mark tells us that she “had spent all that she had.” The high cost of medical treatment is not a new phenomenon. It was a reality in those days as well, and her relentless pursuit of a cure for her condition had bankrupted her. There may be other alternatives for her to try, but she could not afford them if there were.
They had both run out of options at this point. Time, money, and human assistance would all fail them both in their present state of desperation. But they had another thing in common. They had each heard of Jesus. If the scene of this story is
The woman, we are told in v27, had heard about Jesus. It is hard to imagine that anyone in that neck of the woods could have not heard of Him at this point. Might she have heard about the leper he had healed in the first chapter of this Gospel? After all, her condition was not so much different than his. Each one of them would have been considered a spiritual and social outcast. Jesus had touched that leper and made him clean, perhaps He could do the same for her.
And so their lives intersect at these points. Both Jairus and the woman were desperate, and each of them had heard something about Jesus which gave rise to another common condition in their lives. Each of them had a measure of faith in Him, imperfect, or we might say embryonic, though it was. Jairus had faith that Jesus was the only person who could come to the aid of his daughter. The woman knew that there was no one else who could help her in her deepest need. So in faith, they both looked to Jesus.
And as it is with these two, so it is for all of us. Our circumstances may very, but there is a universal commonality to the human condition. Not all of us have dying loved ones; not all of us have incurable afflictions. But all of us are desperate. Each of us finds ourselves in a condition where neither time, money, or human assistance can deliver us. More severe than the terminal conditions which may afflict us or our loved ones is the spiritual condition that affects us all. Each of us is desperately lost in sin, with no other hope except Jesus. We are cut with a wound that time will not heal. The passage of time only makes our condition worse. Doctors can’t heal it, though they will gladly take our money to tell us that the problem is some psychosis or disorder brought on by the victimhood of our circumstances. They won’t help us. We’ll find ourselves worse off in the end. We can’t buy our way out of this depraved state of desperation – many have perished trying. If our lives have been a long, steady rebellion against God, what will some measly contribution to a religious cause do to offset the offensiveness of our sins? We are lost and without hope, until we come to hear about Jesus. Surely you have heard of Him? As hard as it may be for us to believe, many in our world haven’t heard of Him. But the question is what do you do when you do hear about Him?
Here is Jesus, who is the very incarnation of God, who has lived a perfectly righteous life, and yet willingly went to die a sinner’s death, so that in His death, He might become your substitute. Your sins have been laid on Him and punished in
III. Our Lives are Transformed by the Compassion of Christ
The first transformation we see in this passage is that of the hemorrhaging woman. She has crouched low and slithered through the masses in serpentine fashion just to grasp the hem of Christ’s garment. And instantly, she is restored to health and wholeness. But her healing is not the result of her superstitious attempt to receive some transaction through His cloak. It is accomplished by the free and gracious choice of Jesus to meet her faith with His power. Think about it, the text tells us that He was being pressed on every side, but miracles were not being performed in the lives of all of those folks. Somehow her touch was distinct because it was prompted by her faith, and Jesus granted His power to go forth and do for her what no one or nothing else could.
There is no ritual you must undergo, or incantation to chant. You turn to Christ and reach out to Him in faith, and He will dispatch His transforming power to meet you in your point of deepest need. But it is no private transaction. You can almost envision Him, stopping in His tracks to ask, “Who touched my garments?” I’ll let you in on a little secret – He knew who touched Him. This is the same Jesus who in Chapter 2 was aware of the very thoughts of the scribes though they were yet unspoken. He knows who touches Him! But His disciples, who also have imperfect faith at this point, reply almost with disdain (v30). You can almost hear their tone of voice, “What do You mean, ‘Who touched Me?’? Everyone in
Can’t you see the crowd parting to reveal this woman, cowering back like a puppy who has just been whipped? What will Jesus say? Has she made Him unclean now by touching Him? Will He rebuke her or condemn her like everyone else has for the last 12 years? Fearful and trembling, she “tells Him the whole truth.” She has faith, and she makes a true confession of her condition. And with compassion, Jesus confirms for her what she has experienced, and clarifies for her exactly what has taken place. It was not the rub of her hand against the hem of His garment that has made her well. It is her faith. Her faith in Christ has made her well, it has brought her peace, and she is healed of her affliction. What’s more, her faith has brought this outcast into the fold of a new family, as Jesus calls her “daughter.” How long had it been since anyone spoke so lovingly to her? But now this woman, outcast by the society, is welcomed into the family of God because she has been transformed by the coming together of her desperate faith and the compassionate power of Christ.
But Jesus has not forgotten His prior commitment. Even as He spoke with this woman, news comes to Jairus that its too late. His daughter has died. Leave Jesus alone now, Jairus. Obviously He was too busy with these other folks to be of real help to you anyway. Now in v36, we read that Jesus overheard what was being said. The Greek word is parakousas, and it is perfectly acceptable to translate it literally as overhear. But the NIV has chosen the word ignore here. And in fact, the word had that sense in the first century. Yes, He overheard what they were saying, but He ignored it. His power is hindered neither by the passage of time nor the transmission of a negative report. And so His words to Jairus are, “Do not be afraid, only believe.” In other words, hold onto that faith that brought you to me in the first place.”
As they came to Jairus’ house, they were faced with a commotion of people whom Mark says were “loudly weeping and wailing.” In those days, there were folks who made a good living as professional mourners. They were hired to come and play dirges and wail and cry at the death of a loved one. In fact, the social customs required even the poorest of people to hire at least two flute players and one mourner. A man of Jairus’ stature would be expected to employ many more than that. Apparently they had already begun the process, for their wailing and carrying on is described here as a commotion.
Jesus’ words were surprising – He said, “Why make a commotion and weep? The child has not died, but is asleep.” Now, let’s state one thing for certain here – she was absolutely dead. These mourners did not come cheap, and no one would have gone out to solicit their services without being absolutely certain that a death had in fact occurred. She was dead. Why then did Jesus say that she was asleep? It was because He knew what was about to take place behind those closed doors. And just as sure as a sleeper will awake, so Jesus knew that this little girl, dead as she was, would be alive again momentarily.
Now at this, the mourners changed their tune. They began laughing at Him in disbelief. The fact that their mourning is changed so soon into laughter indicates how artificial their customs were. But for their laughter, they were expelled from the premises, and missed out on what was about to occur. There was only room in that little girl’s room for faith. Anyone who lacked it had to go. So, Jesus enters with Jairus and his wife, and Peter, James and John. At certain moments of divine revelation, Jesus only permits these three disciples to join Him. We don’t know why that is, but we see it throughout the Gospels. And so with this small audience around Him, Jesus goes into the room where the girl lay dead, and took her by the hand and said in Aramaic, “Talitha kum!” The word Talitha means “little lamb,” but it was commonly used to refer to children in that day. Mark’s original readers probably didn’t speak Aramaic, so he tells them what it means: “Little girl, I say to you, get up!” And she did. And she started walking around, and Jesus told them to get her something to eat. So complete was her healing that her mobility and her appetite returned immediately. Out of His compassion, Christ exercised His power to transform the life of this little girl, literally, to give it back to her again from death, and in so doing transformed the lives of five witnesses in the room with Him.
In days past, we have discussed in greater depth the mysterious command of Christ found several times in Mark’s Gospel to “not tell anyone” what He has done. Briefly, let me summarize here what we have said before about this. It is not that Jesus didn’t want anyone to know who He was; He did, just not yet. He did not want to be pursued out of premature and false understanding – as if He was a circus performer out to do great magic tricks. He was not looking to draw a crowd of self-interested sign-seekers or create an uprising of heresy hunters out to put a premature stop to His mission before it was completed at the cross. So He commands silence. But in this case, there would be one undeniable testimony to His power for all to see, which words could do no justice: a little girl who had been dead was now walking around and eating again – a fact which would compel interest in Jesus.
Now I could end the message here, and I think I would have done justice to the text. Two people’s lives intersect at the feet of Jesus. Their circumstances vary, but their condition is the same, and both of their lives are transformed as Jesus extends compassion and power to them. It happened to them, it can happen to you. That is a four sentence summary of the message. But there would still be one question I think on every heart today: What if He doesn’t heal or raise the dead? What if I come to Him in full faith, lay my burden at His feet, believing that He is able to heal my affliction or raise up my loved one, and He doesn’t do it? We must remember that this woman was healed of her issue of blood, but she was not exempted from other trials and sufferings that may come her way in the future. The girl was raised from the dead, but not forever. She would face death again one day. Others came to Jesus and weren’t healed; other dead bodies weren’t raised. This passage doesn’t tell us why some are and some aren’t, especially when the faith and hope of both are rightly fixed on Christ. But the passage does tell us that God is compassionate toward us in our desperate conditions, and will receive us if we come to Him with our burdens. Just because a miracle doesn’t occur every time, it doesn’t mean that He is powerless or unconcerned. True faith holds onto Christ unconditionally, and does not hinge on whether or not things work out the way you want them to.
Remember Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. They said to the King when threatened with being thrown in the fire, “God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire; and He will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But even if He does not, let it be known to you, O king, that we are not going to serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.”
Do you have that kind of faith, that says, “Even if I don’t receive a miracle of healing or amazing power in my life, I will still believe in Jesus and hold on to Him in the midst of it all”? The great Protestant reformer Martin Luther did. He said once that he gained insight into the grace of God while he was on the toilet. Really, that’s what he said. But what he meant was not that he was actually on the commode, but that he was at a point of despair and hopelessness, utterly dependent on God. Perhaps it was during the time that his 14 year old daughter
Luther understood that the only miracle God had promised unconditionally was to save sinners who turn to Christ in faith, and raise them up in resurrection at the last day unto eternal life. Ours is a desperate state, lost in sin with no hope and no help from anything or anyone except Jesus. So the question becomes, will you turn to Him in faith to save you, believing that He died on the cross for your sins and rose from the dead to reconcile you to God by forgiving your sins and granting you His righteousness in exchange? If you never have before, then like Jairus would you fall at His feet and seek His mercy and compassion today? Like the afflicted woman will you make your way to Jesus and receive His saving power today?
You may say, Pastor, I am saved today, but there is a need, there is a burden that I can’t carry anymore – an affliction, a concern for a loved one, a besetting sin, a crisis, whatever the case. You don’t have to wait until desperation sets in to call on Jesus. But perhaps it already has. Would you call out to Jesus today in the midst of the desperation of your circumstances? There is no universal promise that a miracle will occur, but know that you will find Him compassionate toward your concern, and powerful to change your circumstances or change your heart.
[1] Paul Lee Tan, Encyclopedia of 15,000 Illustrations, electronic edition.
[2]
[3] Timothy George, Theology of the Reformers (Nashville: Broadman, 1988), 105, cited in David E. Garland, The NIV Application Commentary: Mark (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 228-229.
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