Jairus - Mark 5 22-41, Luke 8: 41-56
I was never that keen on my name. My parents named me Jairus because it means ' God enlightens ' which I always felt was a bit..... well, sort of insulting really. It made me feel that I was a bit stupid and in need of enlightenment. As though my parents had looked at me and thought - this is going to be a child who needs God to show him something, anything. It was an uncommon name at that time and I did get a bit of stick about it from my friends and all in all I was left wishing I had been called something else.
Anyhow, that is all beside the point. I had become a successful businessman, a leader in the synagogue in Capernaum , a husband to the daughter of a prominent city elder and father to three children. I had pretty much everything I wanted or needed in life, and what I didnt have I was able to buy. I lived in a large house in the middle of town and had servants, grooms, a cook and a scribe. I was well regarded amongst the Romans with whom I did business, and in every way my life was great. At 35 years of age I was well liked, successful and happy.
But then disaster struck. My youngest child fell whilst playing in the yard and broke his leg. The bone was poking out of his shin and his screams pierced the walls of the house and brought the whole household running out to discover him in agony and writhing on the ground. I picked him up and ran through the streets to find the local doctor. The doctor gave my boy strong liquor and straightened the bone, putting it in a splint. But within a week the wound had developed an infection and was hot and painful. The doctor visited daily and cleaned the wound but within days my boy had a fever and his leg started to ooze pus. His mother and I stood beside his bed and prayed that God would spare our son. But our prayers were not answered and five weeks after his accident our boy died.
The four of us were in the depths of grief - our other two children were beside themselves at the loss and it was so difficult to pick ourselves up and carry on. But I had a business to run and a household to support - so I tried to be brave and bury the mountain of sadness I was feeling and continued doing 'life' . I had lost all my joy.
Gradually we all picked ourselves up and carried on. There was a sadness in our home which never left us, but as the months turned into years our hearts healed somewhat. Then, when my eldest girl was 12 she developed a fever and quickly became very ill indeed. As we stood beside her bed praying for her recovery I could see the look of terror in my wife's eyes and I knew she would not be able to stand going through this again. She was grey and worn having sat beside Tabitha's bed for three nights in a row. Our other daughter was in the next room preparing some broth to see if she could get her sister to eat something. Tabitha had not eaten for days and we getting so weak. I was in a panic. I knew that no amount of money could rescue my girl. Praying had not saved my son. I could not lose another child. I sat on the end of her bed and I sobbed.
That day was the longest of my life. I paced the floor and sat beside Tabitha feeling utterly helpless, then paced the floor some more. I put cool cloths on her fevered forehead and tried to get her to sip even a little water. I fanned her to try to cool her down but she was burning up. In the end I couldn't stand to be there watching her die any longer and I left the house and set off down the road not knowing where I was going or why. I knew I was being a coward but I just could not stay and see her take her last breath.
I was walking without really looking where I was going or paying attention to what was going on around me when suddenly I found myself in a crowd. I looked up, surprised because it was not market day and there werent usually so many people around at that time of day. I could see that people all seemed to be straining to see something that was going on in the middle of the town square. I couldnt see what all the fuss was about so I asked the man next to me what was going on. He told me that the prophet Jesus was here and he was healing people. I remembered that I had heard that Jesus had healed someone in my local synagogue - a guy with a damaged hand I think. And I had also heard some gossip about people receiving sight and the lame walking - but I hadnt paid too much attention at the time because it all seemed rather far fetched. But on that day, at that moment, the thought that there was someone in my town who might be able to miraculously heal my daughter ....... I pushed my way to the front of the crowd.
People recognised me and made a way for me to get through to Jesus. He was a very ordinary looking man and at first I had difficulty picking him out from the group of men he was standing with. He looked kind, if not a little tired, and I wondered how to approach him. People were pressing around him and he was making very slow progress down the street. He kept stopping to put his hand on the head of small children. He smiled alot. I pressed in towards him and then all of a sudden I found myself standing right in front of him and he was smiling at me. He stopped and looked at me with a question on his face. I immediately said ' Sir, I believe you are a healer sent from God. I have a daughter who is really very ill. She will die if God does not do a miracle. Would you please come and pray for her and do for my family what I believe you have done for others? '
Jesus put his hand on my shoulder and said ' Yes of course - take me to your daughter'. I felt a huge sense of relief as he spoke, a tiny spark of hope entering my heart for the first time in days. We turned round and started to walk back towards my house. I wanted to break into a run and get Jesus there as soon as possible - in my minds eye I could picture my daughter struggling to breathe, burning up with fever and the sense of urgency increased. If I could just get past all these people and get Jesus into our house perhaps.....
The crowd seemed to be getting bigger and it was difficult for us to move forward with any speed. I was trying not to push people out of the way and maintain my dignity, but it was hard. I just wanted to yell at everyone to get out of the way. My daughter was dying. Didnt they know how ill she was? Move people! Let Jesus through.
We were making slow progress when suddenly Jesus stopped and turned round. The crowd stopped and a hush fell over everyone. ' Who touched me?' He said. That was a ridiculous thing to say - there were hundreds of people pushing and jostling him from all sides. He was being touched by twenty people at a time. At least. But he said it again ' Who touched me?' and scanned the crowd looking for someone. His friend said to him ' What do you mean? There are lots of people touching you? Do you want us to try to move them back? Jesus smiled and said ' No, no, its not that. I felt someone who needed healing touch me with great faith, and when they did I felt healing power leave me. I just want to know who that was'
A murmur went through the crowd and everyone started looking at each other wondering who it could have been. This was all taking time and I was becoming increasingly distressed. I needed to get Jesus to my house as soon as possible and here he was stopping to look for some mystery person who had touched him. I wanted to reach out and grab hold of his robe and drag him down the road. But as I was thinking this a lady put up her hand and said ' Sir, it was me. I touched you'. The crowd parted and let her through until she was standing in front of us. She was a middle aged woman. I hadnt seen her before but she looked simultaneously excited and terrified. She looked at the floor as though ashamed to confess that she had been the one touching Jesus. He took her hand and smiled at her. ' Daughter,' he said , (which I thought was a very odd way to address a stranger and a woman) ' your faith has made you well. Your bleeding has stopped. You no longer have to hide away. You are clean and free. ' The woman beamed up at Jesus and my heart leaped as I realised that what had just happened was a miracle and that this man truly might have the ability to heal my Tabitha.
And then, as my hope was starting to rise and Jesus was about to set off with me again, I saw Marius coming down the road towards us. And the look on his face caused my world to come crashing down. Marius approached and knelt down in the street in front of me, tears streaming down his face. ' Im so sorry master' he said almost in a whisper ' Tabitha has died. You need to come home at once, your wife needs you. I dont think this Rabbi will be able to help now '
As Marius had started to speak a loud involuntary sob had escaped my lips and I put my hand over my mouth to try to contain the grief which was exploding inside me. I felt that I was about to collapse and I put my hand on Marius's shoulder to steady myself. All the grief of losing my son came crashing back in on me and doubled as the loss of my daughter started to sink into my soul. A huge chasm of loss was opening in my broken heart and I thought it would swallow me up there and then.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a voice saying ' Don't be afraid. Believe. Have faith. Take me to your daughter' As Jesus spoke it was almost as though he was actually imparting belief and faith into me. As though his words were alive and creating the things he was speaking. I cant describe it but it was powerful and strange. I stopped sobbing and turned towards home, dreading what I was going to find there but also strangely calm.
As we approached the house I could hear the sound of my wife wailing. It was a sound I had heard before and had hoped never to hear again. My daughter came out of the house sobbing her heart out, followed by our cook and the housemaid. The neighbours were already gathering and they were also wailing and making a racket as per the custom of mourning the dead. Jesus turned to his friends and indicated to three of them that they were to follow him. He marched up to the house and spoke to those who were standing around outside ' I dont know what you are all getting so worked up for , the child isnt dead, she is just asleep'. They stopped wailing and crying and stood open mouthed in astonishment. This was most improper and they didnt know whether to be insulted or amused or outraged.
Jesus went into my house and asked everyone to leave the room where my daughter was lying. He stood for a moment looking at her with such a strange look on his face. I thought he might have looked angry for some reason. Then he stepped forward, took her hand and said ' Little girl, wakey wakey, its time to get up'. Immediately Tabitha opened her eyes, smiled. sat up and then got up out of bed and ran over to her mother and gave her a huge hug. My wife screamed and then laughed and held onto Tabitha so tightly I thought she would squeeze the breath out of her. I went over to the two of them and held them both tight. I was in shock I think because I couldnt speak or laugh or cry or anything. I turned back to Jesus who was watching us and smiling. I couldnt think of anything to say so I just put out my hand to shake his and said ' Thank you'. ' You are very welcome' he said ' and by the way, you might want to give her something to eat. She is pretty thin, I dont think she has eaten for a while'. He smiled, winked at Tabitha and then said to her ' Dont tell anyone what has happened please. They will make a big fuss and that might make life a bit difficult for all of you, and for me too. So keep it quiet and just enjoy having your life back.' Tabitha nodded and my wife and I assured him that we would not say anything. Jesus and his friends stayed for a glass of cold water and then headed off back down the road. As soon as they left our house the crowds appeared around him again and I now understood why. God had most definitely enlightened me ! Had I not got a miracle to celebrate and a daughter to hug I might have been tempted to follow him myself.
Anyhow, that is all beside the point. I had become a successful businessman, a leader in the synagogue in Capernaum , a husband to the daughter of a prominent city elder and father to three children. I had pretty much everything I wanted or needed in life, and what I didnt have I was able to buy. I lived in a large house in the middle of town and had servants, grooms, a cook and a scribe. I was well regarded amongst the Romans with whom I did business, and in every way my life was great. At 35 years of age I was well liked, successful and happy.
But then disaster struck. My youngest child fell whilst playing in the yard and broke his leg. The bone was poking out of his shin and his screams pierced the walls of the house and brought the whole household running out to discover him in agony and writhing on the ground. I picked him up and ran through the streets to find the local doctor. The doctor gave my boy strong liquor and straightened the bone, putting it in a splint. But within a week the wound had developed an infection and was hot and painful. The doctor visited daily and cleaned the wound but within days my boy had a fever and his leg started to ooze pus. His mother and I stood beside his bed and prayed that God would spare our son. But our prayers were not answered and five weeks after his accident our boy died.
The four of us were in the depths of grief - our other two children were beside themselves at the loss and it was so difficult to pick ourselves up and carry on. But I had a business to run and a household to support - so I tried to be brave and bury the mountain of sadness I was feeling and continued doing 'life' . I had lost all my joy.
Gradually we all picked ourselves up and carried on. There was a sadness in our home which never left us, but as the months turned into years our hearts healed somewhat. Then, when my eldest girl was 12 she developed a fever and quickly became very ill indeed. As we stood beside her bed praying for her recovery I could see the look of terror in my wife's eyes and I knew she would not be able to stand going through this again. She was grey and worn having sat beside Tabitha's bed for three nights in a row. Our other daughter was in the next room preparing some broth to see if she could get her sister to eat something. Tabitha had not eaten for days and we getting so weak. I was in a panic. I knew that no amount of money could rescue my girl. Praying had not saved my son. I could not lose another child. I sat on the end of her bed and I sobbed.
That day was the longest of my life. I paced the floor and sat beside Tabitha feeling utterly helpless, then paced the floor some more. I put cool cloths on her fevered forehead and tried to get her to sip even a little water. I fanned her to try to cool her down but she was burning up. In the end I couldn't stand to be there watching her die any longer and I left the house and set off down the road not knowing where I was going or why. I knew I was being a coward but I just could not stay and see her take her last breath.
I was walking without really looking where I was going or paying attention to what was going on around me when suddenly I found myself in a crowd. I looked up, surprised because it was not market day and there werent usually so many people around at that time of day. I could see that people all seemed to be straining to see something that was going on in the middle of the town square. I couldnt see what all the fuss was about so I asked the man next to me what was going on. He told me that the prophet Jesus was here and he was healing people. I remembered that I had heard that Jesus had healed someone in my local synagogue - a guy with a damaged hand I think. And I had also heard some gossip about people receiving sight and the lame walking - but I hadnt paid too much attention at the time because it all seemed rather far fetched. But on that day, at that moment, the thought that there was someone in my town who might be able to miraculously heal my daughter ....... I pushed my way to the front of the crowd.
People recognised me and made a way for me to get through to Jesus. He was a very ordinary looking man and at first I had difficulty picking him out from the group of men he was standing with. He looked kind, if not a little tired, and I wondered how to approach him. People were pressing around him and he was making very slow progress down the street. He kept stopping to put his hand on the head of small children. He smiled alot. I pressed in towards him and then all of a sudden I found myself standing right in front of him and he was smiling at me. He stopped and looked at me with a question on his face. I immediately said ' Sir, I believe you are a healer sent from God. I have a daughter who is really very ill. She will die if God does not do a miracle. Would you please come and pray for her and do for my family what I believe you have done for others? '
Jesus put his hand on my shoulder and said ' Yes of course - take me to your daughter'. I felt a huge sense of relief as he spoke, a tiny spark of hope entering my heart for the first time in days. We turned round and started to walk back towards my house. I wanted to break into a run and get Jesus there as soon as possible - in my minds eye I could picture my daughter struggling to breathe, burning up with fever and the sense of urgency increased. If I could just get past all these people and get Jesus into our house perhaps.....
The crowd seemed to be getting bigger and it was difficult for us to move forward with any speed. I was trying not to push people out of the way and maintain my dignity, but it was hard. I just wanted to yell at everyone to get out of the way. My daughter was dying. Didnt they know how ill she was? Move people! Let Jesus through.
We were making slow progress when suddenly Jesus stopped and turned round. The crowd stopped and a hush fell over everyone. ' Who touched me?' He said. That was a ridiculous thing to say - there were hundreds of people pushing and jostling him from all sides. He was being touched by twenty people at a time. At least. But he said it again ' Who touched me?' and scanned the crowd looking for someone. His friend said to him ' What do you mean? There are lots of people touching you? Do you want us to try to move them back? Jesus smiled and said ' No, no, its not that. I felt someone who needed healing touch me with great faith, and when they did I felt healing power leave me. I just want to know who that was'
A murmur went through the crowd and everyone started looking at each other wondering who it could have been. This was all taking time and I was becoming increasingly distressed. I needed to get Jesus to my house as soon as possible and here he was stopping to look for some mystery person who had touched him. I wanted to reach out and grab hold of his robe and drag him down the road. But as I was thinking this a lady put up her hand and said ' Sir, it was me. I touched you'. The crowd parted and let her through until she was standing in front of us. She was a middle aged woman. I hadnt seen her before but she looked simultaneously excited and terrified. She looked at the floor as though ashamed to confess that she had been the one touching Jesus. He took her hand and smiled at her. ' Daughter,' he said , (which I thought was a very odd way to address a stranger and a woman) ' your faith has made you well. Your bleeding has stopped. You no longer have to hide away. You are clean and free. ' The woman beamed up at Jesus and my heart leaped as I realised that what had just happened was a miracle and that this man truly might have the ability to heal my Tabitha.
And then, as my hope was starting to rise and Jesus was about to set off with me again, I saw Marius coming down the road towards us. And the look on his face caused my world to come crashing down. Marius approached and knelt down in the street in front of me, tears streaming down his face. ' Im so sorry master' he said almost in a whisper ' Tabitha has died. You need to come home at once, your wife needs you. I dont think this Rabbi will be able to help now '
As Marius had started to speak a loud involuntary sob had escaped my lips and I put my hand over my mouth to try to contain the grief which was exploding inside me. I felt that I was about to collapse and I put my hand on Marius's shoulder to steady myself. All the grief of losing my son came crashing back in on me and doubled as the loss of my daughter started to sink into my soul. A huge chasm of loss was opening in my broken heart and I thought it would swallow me up there and then.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a voice saying ' Don't be afraid. Believe. Have faith. Take me to your daughter' As Jesus spoke it was almost as though he was actually imparting belief and faith into me. As though his words were alive and creating the things he was speaking. I cant describe it but it was powerful and strange. I stopped sobbing and turned towards home, dreading what I was going to find there but also strangely calm.
As we approached the house I could hear the sound of my wife wailing. It was a sound I had heard before and had hoped never to hear again. My daughter came out of the house sobbing her heart out, followed by our cook and the housemaid. The neighbours were already gathering and they were also wailing and making a racket as per the custom of mourning the dead. Jesus turned to his friends and indicated to three of them that they were to follow him. He marched up to the house and spoke to those who were standing around outside ' I dont know what you are all getting so worked up for , the child isnt dead, she is just asleep'. They stopped wailing and crying and stood open mouthed in astonishment. This was most improper and they didnt know whether to be insulted or amused or outraged.
Jesus went into my house and asked everyone to leave the room where my daughter was lying. He stood for a moment looking at her with such a strange look on his face. I thought he might have looked angry for some reason. Then he stepped forward, took her hand and said ' Little girl, wakey wakey, its time to get up'. Immediately Tabitha opened her eyes, smiled. sat up and then got up out of bed and ran over to her mother and gave her a huge hug. My wife screamed and then laughed and held onto Tabitha so tightly I thought she would squeeze the breath out of her. I went over to the two of them and held them both tight. I was in shock I think because I couldnt speak or laugh or cry or anything. I turned back to Jesus who was watching us and smiling. I couldnt think of anything to say so I just put out my hand to shake his and said ' Thank you'. ' You are very welcome' he said ' and by the way, you might want to give her something to eat. She is pretty thin, I dont think she has eaten for a while'. He smiled, winked at Tabitha and then said to her ' Dont tell anyone what has happened please. They will make a big fuss and that might make life a bit difficult for all of you, and for me too. So keep it quiet and just enjoy having your life back.' Tabitha nodded and my wife and I assured him that we would not say anything. Jesus and his friends stayed for a glass of cold water and then headed off back down the road. As soon as they left our house the crowds appeared around him again and I now understood why. God had most definitely enlightened me ! Had I not got a miracle to celebrate and a daughter to hug I might have been tempted to follow him myself.
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