Proper 8B (Pentecost 6 2024)

Text: “27 It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. 28 Let him sit alone in silence when it is laid on him; 29 let him put his mouth in the dust- there may yet be hope….” Lamentations 3:27-29

Imagine with me for a moment. Picture the man and the woman in the gospel reading. It’s quite likely that some of you can better describe their experiences than I can, but let me describe them this way:

It’s hard to imagine her desperation. She has suffered with this bleeding for 12 years. The bleeding has separated her from other people. It made her unclean under the laws of Moses— if she had been married, it’s quite likely her husband had divorced her; if she had children, she would not have been able to care for them because she would have made them unclean. She had to live apart from everyone.

Of course, even if she weren’t unclean under the law, she wasn’t terribly interested in social activities anyway. It’s hard to go anywhere in her condition, hard to do anything. And 12 years of bleeding takes a huge physical toll on the human body. It’s hard for her to do anything more than care for herself.

She had heard the complaints of people on the Sabbath day, heard the grumbling of those who went to the synagogue, heard them complain as they made their way to the temple to offer the required sacrifices. She ached to be able to go. But she was not allowed anywhere near God’s presence— she literally was not allowed to set foot in the temple— because she was unclean. Even that was taken from her. She was cut off from God and from everyone around her.

But then she heard the stories. Incredible stories of healing all kinds of diseases. This was it. This is what she had been praying for for 12 years. She had to get to Him. He could certainly heal her. And so she went. She had heard the rumors that He was nearby, coming across the Sea of Galilee— and here He was, stepping off of the boat onto the shore. But her joy turned to despair in a moment when she saw the crowds around Him. Her heart sank. How could she get through a crowd like that? And not just the crowd. She could see the one man who was obviously extremely important— one of the elders at the synagogue— there in front. A quick word and Jesus heads off with him. Of course. There was no chance of her getting anywhere near Jesus now. But she had to do it. She had been disappointed by too many doctors too many times. This was her only chance. She had to get to Him. Even if she couldn’t talk to Him, even if all she could do was touch His robe, this was her chance to be healed.

And so she did. She dove into the crowd of more people than she had seen in the past 12 years combined. She pushed her way through, cringing at all of the people she was bumping into, choosing to ignore the fact that—according to the Law given to Moses by God—she was making all of them unclean like her. Physically, it probably took all the strength she had to even keep up, but somehow she made her way through.

For 12 years she had suffered. For 12 years she had been cut off. For 12 years she had begged God. Finally there He was, within her reach. There may yet be hope.

For the same 12 years, a man named Jairus had quite a different experience. 12 years earlier the birth of his daughter had brought such joy. Now those 12 years of love, of joy, of laughter were decaying into something equally bitter as he watched his daughter get worse and worse. She was almost out of time when he heard the news. Jesus was coming. Surely He could heal her. He was coming across by boat, He would land soon. This was Jairus’ chance to save his daughter.

He headed to the shore as quickly as he could. A crowd had already gathered, but most realized who he was and made way. He still had to force his way through, though. “My little daughter is at the point of death,” he pleaded, “Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be well and live.” And Jesus agreed. He came. But would they get there in time?

They made their way back across town to his home. It was slow because of the crowd, but they were going— until Jesus stopped! Is He really upset that someone touched Him? Oh, I see, it’s that unclean woman that touched Him. I’d be upset, too. But we really don’t have time for this….

That was when the servants came. “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” It was too late. 12 years of joy, of love, of laughter compressed themselves in the pit of his stomach and threatened to explode in rage at this woman who had stopped them. Who had prevented Jesus from saving his daughter. Who had dared to come here, in the middle of all these people, and actually touch Jesus. But now Jesus was talking to him. “Do not fear, only believe.”

There may yet be hope.

Hope can be a cruel master, if you will. Giving up is certainly easier, although we know it’s not good to just ‘give up’. But recognizing when you can’t fix things seems like the rational thing to do. Accepting things the way they are seems necessary, even. Perhaps you’ve even seen the harm done to a person who refuses to accept reality. Refusing to accept that the 70’s are over and put away the bell bottoms is one thing. That’s not really hurting anyone. But How many people today have lost everything— and more!— grasping at anything and everything that promises help for their illness, no matter how absurd those promises might be? A parent who refuses to accept the loss of a child, for example, can end up causing a lot of pain to those close to him or her.

But we can’t. It’s not just a matter of wanting to or not, you’ve also been told that God is out there, somewhere, with the power to heal. You’ve been taught that He not only commands you to pray, He invites you to pray by offering up promises that are, in a word, unbelievable.But then He seems impossibly distant—too far away to make a difference—or too slow to help. ‘Cruel’ is almost too weak of a word for it.

“There may yet be hope.” Hardly the most encouraging word. But often that’s all we have. As you go, more and more often, to see doctors who can do for you less and less. As you stand, helpless at the sickbed of a loved one. As you plead with God, day after day or year after year, for healing that never comes. As illness takes it’s emotional toll and its physical toll, cutting you off from others and, it seems, from God. As joy and love and laughter turn to bitterness and pain. As frustration builds because God does not move as quickly as He needs to. There may yet be hope.

It’s hardly the most encouraging word. But, with Jesus, it’s more than enough.

“Jesus has come to give life – real life, resurrected life, eternal life – His life. And He’s come to give it to the hemorrhaging woman and the despairing father, and the little girl on her deathbed. He has come for them and He has come for you. He has come for all. …He takes from the unclean and gives of Himself. He touches the corpse and bestows life. He carries your sins and He delivers His righteousness. He bares your judgment and surrenders His life. He suffers and dies and You receive the forgiveness of sins. He embraces the horror of the cross and promises the beatific vision to those who repent and believe on His Name. He bleeds that you may be healed. He dies that you may have life. He rises that you may live forever not as you are but as He has made you through His own death and resurrection!...

“Therefore, what Jesus says to Jairus He says to all people. “Do not fear, only believe!” He speaks His Word of comforting grace and hearts can be set at ease. The certainty of death is overcome with the Word of Jesus and the promise of resurrection. The despair of sin’s accusation is [driven out] from the heart as the call to faith in Jesus enters your ears. Hopelessness is transformed into trust as hearts learn of Christ’s greater certainty. It is as if Jesus were saying to Jairus and to you and to me and to the world, “do not fear sin’s wages. Do not fear my footsteps in the garden. Do not fear your mortal condition. Do not fear my heart towards you. Do not fear the sufferings of this world. Do not fear the devil’s flaming arrows. Do not fear sin’s accusations. Do not fear death’s advent. Do not fear Hell’s angels! I am here for you. Only Believe!

“When Jesus speaks a Word, faith chases away fear. When Jesus draws near, faith is strengthened. When faith lays hold of Jesus, power goes out from him. Women are healed. Fathers are comforted. Mothers behold the miraculous. Little girls rise from the dead, if not today, on the last day.”[1]

What Jesus said to the woman He says to you. “Your faith has saved you, go in peace.” He, Himself, has sent pastors to say those words to you and He has promised them, “Whoever hears you hears me.” Your guilt, your uncleanness is both far less obvious and far worse than that woman’s was. And, unlike her, you don’t have the chance to grab hold of his robe to be healed. But He has drawn near to you so that you can take hold of Him by faith. He not only allows you to touch His robe, He has clothed you, in baptism, with the robe of His righteousness and has made you clean. He has restored your relationship with God and with those around you.

What He said to Jairus, He still says to you. He assures you, “Do not fear, only believe.” The Author and Giver of Life invites you to call upon Him as a dearly loved child calls out to his loving father because He has given His beloved Son for you.

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,

“therefore I will hope in him.”

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,

to the soul who seeks him.

…

let him give his cheek to the one who strikes,

and let him be filled with insults.

For the Lord will not

cast off forever,

but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion

according to the abundance of his steadfast love;

for he does not willingly afflict

or grieve the children of men.”

Yes, there may yet be hope. Do not fear. Only believe.

God does not remain distant. In Jesus Christ, He puts Himself right here in the middle of humanity. In fact, He puts Himself right here in your midst. Do not be bashful. Come and touch Him. Come and take hold of Him—not just the hem of his robe, but receive Him in the flesh—His very body and blood. As you touch him, as you eat of His flesh in, with, and under bread and drink His blood in, with, and under wine, power goes out from Him to strengthen you. It may not heal you physically, but the One who was strong enough to handle the thorns and the whips and the nails— who had the strength to endure the pains of Hell for you— He is strong enough to help you bear your weakness.

Even when you face the death of a spouse, of a parent, of a child—whoever it may be—it is with the confidence that, through faith in Christ, he or she has not died. He or she has fallen asleep in Christ. When they were baptized, it was not just a sprinkling of water. Christ, Himself, was there. They were baptized into the Easter of His unending life. They did not just touch Him, they were joined to Him in baptism. They were united with Him in His death and raised with Him in His resurrection. The moment her eyelids close in death may feel like the moment that she moves beyond all hope. But the opposite is true. All who have fallen asleep in Christ now share even more fully in His resurrection. Even as you grieve, it is not like those who have no hope.

The day is coming when the trumpet will sound and our Lord will declare to her and to all the dead: “I say to you, arise,” and, immediately, the dead in Christ will rise. We who are alive in that day will be caught up with them and you will walk with them in the new creation—the new heaven and the new earth that He has prepared for you.

You do not need to go seeking Him out. Nor do you, thankfully, have to fight your way to Him through the crowds. He places Himself in your hands—and in your heart and mind—through His Word. He put Himself up on the cross for all to see and for all to cling to by faith.

Hope may seem cruel; it may seem elusive. But it is always as near to you as Jesus Christ. Take hold of Him, again, through this Word, and believe that your faith has saved you. Go in peace.

[1] Sikora, Rev. Tony, “Blood, Death, and Jesus All In A Day’s Word.” SteadfastLutherans.org. June 29, 2012.