Do not Fear, Only Believe

 

The Gospel of Mark likes sandwiches – the literary kind – like the healing

stories in today’s Gospel. Mark interrupts the story about Jairus seeking

healing for his daughter in order to tell the story about the bleeding woman –

before returning to the story of Jairus’ daughter. In putting the stories

together in this way, the one story helps interpret the other.

This past week, in reading these “sandwiched” stories, I was touched by the

story of Jairus, the father who went to extreme measures in seeking health

and healing for his little girl. In those days, it was common for children to die

of disease due to the lack of medicine and vaccines. Furthermore, she was a

girl – who were traditionally less valued than boys in that culture. But clearly,

Jairus loved his little girl.

He sounds absolutely beside himself as he falls at Jesus’ feet – not something

that synagogue leaders normally would do – and begs over and over for Jesus

to “lay hands on her so that she may be made well, and live.” Like the

bleeding woman’s touch, Jairus’ words are both a profession of faith and an

act of desperation from a person who was willing to do anything for the gift

of healing.

If you have ever sat with a mother or a father when their child is deathly

sick– or been that mother or father or as one who cared for the child – you

know that that there may be nothing worse than to have to face the death of

your child. It doesn’t even matter how old the child is – they are still your

child, the one you have tried to protect and to raise and to shelter from every

storm.

Jairus may have been standing on the beach, waiting – for when Jesus’ boat

came in, Jairus lost no time in placing himself in front of Jesus’ feet -

blocking his way. He was on a mission - must have been relieved when Jesus

agreed to come to his home to heal his daughter.

But just as they were headed toward’s Jairus’ home, Jesus stopped – because,

he said, someone touched him -and Jairus had to wait again. We don’t hear

from Jairus – but even the disciples were incredulous. Of course, someone –

lots of someones touched him. They were surrounded by people. But Jesus

wouldn’t budge until he found out who touched him. For he knew that

healing power had left his body. He was right – a woman – a nobody – an

unclean woman – came forward to confess. And she told the WHOLE

story… while Jairus waited.

Again, we don’t know how Jairus was feeling as he was waiting for Jesus.

After his first words, he doesn’t speak again and we don’t return to Jairus’

story until after Jesus proclaims the bleeding woman as his daughter – and

effectively reinstates her into the community – inviting the community to

receive her into their midst with peace, with shalom, which means that she

was to be welcomed. She belonged again. And she– this formerly bleeding

woman –had been waiting a long time – 12 years of waiting – which maybe

not coincidentally - is the same as the age of Jairus’ daughter.

Waiting. Sometimes waiting is pure agony. I remember waiting for word

from Mary and Arch, the parents of my college roommate Sharon.

Apparently, before she attempted to ride an unbroken horse, Sharon had

reasoned with a friend, “what’s the worst that could happen? I might get

bucked off – that’s happened before - no big deal!” But this time, it was a big

deal. When she was bucked off, her head hit a bolt in the stable right at her

temple. Her body was perfectly fine – except for that one bruise. She went

into a coma. When we heard the news, we waited and we prayed and then we

got anxious and wished there was something, anything that we could do.

What do you do when you wait? Do you fidget and worry and wonder what

will happen and imagine the worst? Do you try to keep “busy” and think of

anything other than the thing you are waiting for? And of course, you pray.

You pray and pray and wish for the right words to make healing happen.

While he was waiting, I would guess that Jairus had been praying – praying

for his daughter but maybe also praying for Jesus to hurry up so that they

would not be too late. But Jesus was not going to be hurried. And he was not

going to hurry this new daughter of his – Jesus wanted to hear the whole truth

– and to restore her to the community.

But there is a cost to waiting. While they are witing, messengers arrive to tell

Jairus that his daughter has died – so don’t bother the rabbi anymore. It’s hard

to imagine how devastated he must have felt -- as if he had the winning

lottery ticket and, on his way to redeem it, it blew out of his hand and

someone else won the jackpot.

Jairus doesn’t speak after his first lines but Jesus knows his heart. Jesus says

to him, “Do not fear, only believe.” I was struck that Jesus did not tell him

not to be angry or frustrated or grief-stricken -- I think I would be all of

those. But Jesus told him, “do not fear.”

At least in the Gospel of Mark, fear seems to be the opposite of faith. When

the hemorrhaging woman, confident in her belief that just touching the robe

of Jesus would be enough to heal her, does so – despite the taboo of an

“unclean” person touching another, Jesus commends her for her faith.

And this is not the only time Jesus contrasts fear and faith. When Jesus calms

the raging water on the Sea of Galilee, he says to his disciples, “Why are you

afraid? Have you still no faith? Again, after walking on the water, he tells the

disciples not to be afraid. Later, the disciples are afraid when they hear Jesus

talk about his death and resurrection. The religious leaders are afraid of what

Jesus will do. And finally, when they see the empty tomb, the women are

afraid and run away. In each of these cases, fear is the opposite of believing

in Jesus, of having and keeping faith with Jesus. Jesus also tells Jairus, “Do

not fear, only believe.”

Fear is a very basic, elemental raw emotion located right on our brain stem

that tells us to respond one of three ways: fight, flight or freeze. This is a

good response if you are encountering a lion in the early years of civilization

when you had to decide instantly your course of action. Can you fight it? Can

you outrun it? Or is your best bet to freeze in place and try to blend in with

the tree or grass or whatever is nearby? Quick gut reactions from fear may

have saved the species. But because fear is reactive and a gut reaction, it

doesn’t give the option of being open to new possibilities.

On the other hand, faith opens us up to possibilities that we had never

imagined before. As Brene Brown once said, “Faith is a place of mystery,

where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength

to let go of our fear of uncertainty.” 1  

Jesus is inviting Jairus – and later the disciples - to do just that: “Do not fear

only believe.” This kind of faith requires trust – trust in God, trust in Jesus

despite the what things may seem and despite what your gut may be telling

you. Jairus must have resisted the temptation to fight or run away or freeze

because he took Jesus to his house, endured the mocking laughter of the

people, and brought Jesus to his daughter’s room- even though the

messengers and everyone at his house said it was too late. But it was not too

late for Jesus. Instead, Jairus’ waiting – patiently or not - and embracing faith

and not fear paid off. Jesus lifted up his daughter into new life.

Both Jairus’ daughter and the woman Jesus claimed as “daughter” were

healed and restored to life. But not every person is healed, not every story

has this kind of “happy ending.” And it is not for lack of waiting and

watching, hoping and praying.

My friend Sharon, after spending several weeks in and out of consciousness,

developed a blood clot and died. I was devastated. She was far too young and

too full of promise to die. I was pretty angry with God. On top of that, – I had

some survivor’s guilt. I came out of a head injury – why shouldn’t she? Were

not my prayers for her as powerful as the prayers others had prayed for me?

Why was I healed - and she was not?

This question unsettled me… until I visited Sharon’s mother Mary. I knew

that Mary grieved the loss of her daughter Sharon deeply. And yet, she

seemed very much at peace. So, I asked her how she had managed to come to

peace with Sharon’s death. Mary smiled and said, “It became clear to her

father and me that Sharon would never be able to fully recover. She would

never be able to live outside of a care center and her creativity and her

intellect were deeply damaged. We were willing to live with that. We were

making plans to sell the home that we built in Missouri and move back to

Minneapolis to care for her. Sharon didn’t understand everything – but she

understood that she was not herself – and she was miserable. She did not

want that life. I miss her deeply, and yet, for her sake, I am glad that God

took her home.”

Mary was able to embrace Psalm 30 which says, “Weeping may linger for the

night, but joy comes with the morning.” The promise of resurrection life for

Sharon was what helped Mary through the long night of grief.

It was then that I learned – again – that healing and wholeness are not always

what we think that they should be. God’s ways are not our ways for God sees

beyond our selfish desires. I wanted Sharon to be healed – because I wanted

my friend back. But Jesus knew her heart and He cares for the whole person

as we are – not as we wish to be.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, Jesus cares for you and those that you

love too. So when you come to a time in which you are forced to wait, may

you watch and wait with hope and faith, trusting in God. As Jesus said to

Jairus, so Jesus says to you and to me, “Do not fear. Only believe.” For God

is faithful. Amen.

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + June 30, 2024+ Pastor Pamela Stalheim Lane

1 Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

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