Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity

Our Gospel text presents us with a miracle within a miracle: two miracles so intertwined with each other so as to become one account. There is no other story like this in the gospels. It is the account of two daughters, a girl who is twelve years old, and a woman who has been suffering from a terrible illness for twelve years. The text begins when Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue, approaches Jesus and begs him to come and heal his little daughter, who is even now at the point of death. Jesus at once agrees, and they begin towards Jairus’ house with the entire crowd following and pressing around Jesus. Time is of the utmost importance, for with every moment that passes, Jarius’ beloved daughter slips closer to death. But suddenly, in the midst of this hurried journey, Jesus stops everyone in their tracks to treat with a poor woman, who though sick, is not in any immediate, mortal danger.

What could possibly be more important than a dying child? Even at this moment she may have been taking her last breath. Yet Jesus abruptly stops and asks, “Who touched me?” The disciples are incredulous. They begin to reason with Jesus as one might with a small child—patiently but with a hint of exasperation: “Do you see this crowd? Everyone is jostling and pushing and bumping into you. What do you mean, ‘Who touched me?’ Everyone is touching you.” They may also have been thinking, “The little girl is dying! Jesus, we need to hurry up.” Yet even as time expires for the little girl and she slips into death, Jesus refuses to move. He continues to look around in the crowd, insisting that somebody touched Him.‌

And finally, trembling with fear, a poor woman comes forward and confesses. She had touched Jesus’ garment. She had suffered from bleeding that would not stop for twelve years. She had spent every penny that she had on doctors, but they had only made things worse. But she had heard stories of Jesus. Here was a man who could heal with a mere touch or a single word. She heard and she believed. More than that, she believed that Jesus could do what no doctor on earth could do. And so she came to Jesus in faith, saying within herself, “If I can only touch his garment, I will be saved.” ‌

Notice, she didn’t say, “I will be healed.” She came to Jesus, believing that she would be saved! Here is true faith. Multitudes of people throng around Jesus, but few are they who touch him by faith. This woman didn’t dare to ask Jesus for help publicly as the ruler of the synagogue had done. Whether for fear of being discovered or for shame because of the nature of her illness, she came up behind Jesus and touched his garment. Immediately, the fountain of blood was dried up and she knew that she was healed from her infirmity. But Jesus felt the power go out from him and knew what had happened. Yes, the woman was healed, and was about to go away. But remember, she had come to Jesus desiring more than healing. She had hoped to be saved, and Jesus knew this. He stood firm in the midst of the pressing crowd. He would not move, He would not budge, not until He could give this woman salvation.

According to the Law of Moses, those who were bleeding were unclean. The woman had been bleeding for twelve years. For twelve years she had been an outcast from the synagogue and the temple. She could not participate in the worship of the church by which atonement was delivered to the people of God. She had been forced to live apart from God’s chosen people, from which the promised salvation of the world was to come. And now her body had been healed, but she was still an outcast from the family of God. Yet fearing to ask for more, she would have been content to slip away into the crowd and disappear. Death, the last enemy, that was at this moment reaching out to snatch the life of Jairus’ daughter, had not relinquished its claim on her. Though her body had been healed, she would die in her sins, and death would have the final word. Yet she was content and would have gone away. She had already received more than she had any right to claim.

But Jesus was not content. He was not done. He had not come into this world to heal her body. He had come that she might have life—eternal life. The ruler of the synagogue could wait. A multitude of people could wait. The disciples could wait. There would be time later, for trivial matters, such as raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead—not a problem for Jesus. What is death to Jesus but sleep, from which to be awakened by a word. Jairus and his daughter can wait. For at this moment Jesus must care for His daughter. And so the Lord of Life stands still in the midst of the hurried crowd and says to the woman: “Daughter.” With this single word, He washes away twelve years of uncleanness and shame. With this word He declares to her: “You are no longer an outcast. You are now a part of the family of God. You are my beloved child.”‌

The woman has come to Jesus in faith, asking to be saved, and Jesus says, “Whoever comes to me, I will never turn away.” He doesn’t rebuke her for presuming to touch Him. Instead, He heals her in body and soul. He refuses to continue on his way until he has said to her, “Daughter, go in peace. Your faith has saved you!”‌

These are the same words that Christ speaks to you. They were first spoken at your baptism where the name of God was imposed upon you. “You are my daughter. You are my son. You are no longer an outcast from the family of God. You are no longer a slave to sin. You belong to Me. You are my beloved child in whom I am well pleased!” And because Christ has spoken it, you are the property of God because He purchased you with His precious blood, which was poured out for you without measure. His body was scourged and wracked with every infirmity that yours would be healed. He bore your sin at the cross, becoming lower than the lowest outcast so that you might raise you up to live with Him, for eternity. Our Lord Jesus could not be swayed from His saving purpose. He could not be turned aside. He would not rest until He had ransomed you from sin, death, and the devil. Like the poor woman, you have come to Christ in faith today, expecting good from His hand, yet perhaps daring only to touch His garment, knowing that you are not worthy. Hear then the word of Christ to you: “Daughter, son, go in peace. Do not fear, only believe. Your salvation is assured.”

But you can be sure that as you journey along with Christ as Jarius did, the devil try to convince you that it’s too late, that it’s no good. There’s no point in troubling Jesus. Your sins are too great. It’s too late for you. The claims of death, which seem to grow stronger every day, are too insurmountable. “Why trouble the Master? Your daughter is already dead!” But Jesus says to you, “Do not fear, only believe. The dark doorway that looms before you is not death, but only sleep.” How foolish these words seem to this world, a world in which all have been enslaved their whole lives by fear of death. But to us who believe, there are no words of greater hope or comfort. For we belong to Jesus, and to Him death is nothing but sleep. At a word from Him, we shall be raised. “Yes,” Jesus says, “he that believeth on Me, even though he die, yet shall he live, for I Myself will raise him up on the last day” (Jn 11:25).