Sermon Tone Analysis

Introduction: Our Craving for Peace

According to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America, anxiety disorders are the most common types of disorders in the US, affecting some 18.1% of the population each year, which translates into about 40 million Americans.[1]

Closely connected to anxiety disorders is depression, with nearly one-half of those diagnosed with depression also diagnosed with an anxiety disorder.

But adults aren’t the only ones.

Studies have been published in recent years confirming that our current generation of youth—Gen Z or “iGen” (those born after 1994)—are suffering from anxiety disorders and depression at a far higher rate than did the previous generation, the Millennials.[2]

The worst hit, though, are teenage girls.

From 2009 to 2014, teenage girls who were admitted to hospitals for self-harm rose 60% in both the US and the UK.

We see this disturbing trend also reflected in a more tragic statistic, the rise of suicides in teenagers.

In 2016, the suicide rate for teenage boys in the US was 34% higher than the previous decade, and girls’ suicide rates were up a massive 82%.[3]

These numbers are shocking and sad.

Our hearts should break over what this reveals about the state of our country’s mental health, especially the mental health of our youth.

Our hearts should break over all the things that have gone terribly wrong in people’s lives to lead to this heartrending situation.

Unsurprisingly, it is precisely for mental health reasons that lots of people turn to religion.

The American Psychological Association published a paper in 2010 detailing how that humans seem to be “more whole” when they factor the religious into their lives.

This is because the research indicates that the biological, psychological, social, cultural, and spiritual aspects of our humanity are all linked together.[4]

Steven Reiss, a professor emeritus of psychology at Ohio State, released a book in 2016 entitled The 16 Strivings for God, in which he published his findings from years of research that all human beings operate with 16 basic desires, and that religion fulfills most all of them, over and over again.

Interestingly, one of those basic desires is the desire for tranquility.[5]

What does all this say?

It says that as human beings, we crave (and need) peace.

We crave tranquility.

We crave an inner calm and stability that enables us to face everything else that life throws at us.

And, judging by the statistics, our pursuit of peace and tranquility only works part of the time.

But a significant factor that plays into such pursuits is our religion—our faith.

In the teachings of Jesus and the apostles, peace is one of the primary blessings offered to people by God through the gift of Jesus Himself.

Jesus offers peace with God by virtue of His death for human sin, which then results in peace from God.

And this peace does far more than give us inner tranquility.

It does things to us.

It equips us.

It heals us.

It renews and directs us.

What we find when we look more closely at what Jesus means by the peace He gives is that His peace ultimately puts us back where we belong.

Now, what this looks like and how it does this is exactly what I want us to talk about in this new series.

I believe that the peace of Christ is one of the more underrated and seldom discussed aspects of Christianity.

And, as far as our church goes, I want to change that with this series.

To get started, I want us to look at an episode in the Gospel of Mark—the only episode, in fact, where Mark has anyone say anything at all about peace.

So, let’s listen in.

[1] https://adaa.org/about-adaa/press-room/facts-statistics.

Accessed on 11/8/19.

See also https://www.cdc.gov/tobacco/campaign/tips/diseases/depression-anxiety.html.

[2] https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/jan/10/by-mollycoddling-our-children-were-fuelling-mental-illness-in-teenagers.

Accessed on 11/8/19.

[3] Ibid.

[4] https://www.apa.org/monitor/2010/12/believe.

Accessed on 11/8/19.

[5] https://phys.org/news/2015-10-psychology-religious-belief.html.

Accessed on 11/8/19.

How Peace Came to An Outcast Woman

The story that we’re looking at today occurs in what interpreters call a “Markan sandwich.”

By this, they mean one of Mark’s favorite storytelling devices where he inserts one story within another story with the intent of having both stories complement each other and give illumination to a single theme.[1]

In this case, Mark “sandwiches” the story of a woman with a discharge of blood between two parts of a story about Jairus, a local synagogue ruler, and his dying, 12-year-old daughter.

According to , Jairus approaches Jesus as a large crowd gathers around Him.

By social standing, Jairus is a ruler of a synagogue, which made him somewhat important in the area.

But when he comes to Jesus, any air of importance falls to the ground as he falls at Jesus’ feet.

All pretense is gone with Jairus.

Whatever dignity or pride he might otherwise try to preserve was sacrificed for the sake of his daughter as he begs Jesus to save her life.

He asks Jesus, “Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well and live.”

Interestingly, that word “well” is the same word that is so frequently translated “saved,” or salvation, in the NT.

It can mean “rescue” or “deliver,” or in this case, “wellness” from a sickness.

So, he’s asking Jesus to come rescue, deliver, save, his daughter, so that she can live.

And Jesus agrees to come.

On the way, however, the scene gets interrupted by a previously unnoticed woman.

Jesus feels healing power leave Him, and He pauses to ask who it was that touched him.

Because of the crowd that was swarming around Him, Jesus’ disciples incredulously ask Him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?”

But Jesus is insistent.

Someone had just been healed by His power, and Jesus was never content to simply leave it at that.

He was interested in connection—in how God was working, or could work, in people’s lives.

So, He wanted to know who had just been healed.

When the healed person emerged, they couldn’t have been more the opposite of Jairus.

It was a woman, desperate because of her health, and desperate because her pursuit of a cure had drained all the resources she had.

For the past twelve years, she had a discharge of blood that no one could cure.

In fact, the cures had only increased her suffering!

But it wasn’t just her health and finances that had struggled.

By virtue of her illness, she was both ceremonially unclean ()--which barred her from the Temple—and socially unclean, which barred her from normal contact with her family.

Again, this makes her the very opposite of Jairus.

She was broke, outcast, and severely unhealthy.

She hadn’t been important to anyone for years.

And, of course, her condition made her ability to seek out Jesus problematic.

She was unclean, so she wasn’t supposed to be around people.

If anyone found out, she could be prosecuted with the penalties of the Law of Moses.

But as far as she was concerned, Jesus was her last chance.

She’d heard some of the stories about Him, and so this was her last best hope.

But she had to get close enough to touch Him, because she reasoned to herself, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well” (v28).

Notice that there’s that word again: “well.”

It’s the same word that Jairus used.

What does this mean?

It means that the woman and Jairus are both asking for the same thing from Jesus, even though they are asking from vastly different perspectives and social standings.

It also means that the woman--who has had her condition for twelve years--and Jairus’ daughter--who is twelve years old--need the same thing.

This same need from Jesus binds the woman and the daughter together, which the use of the number 12 in both their stories reinforces.

Although in different stages of life, the past twelve years for both of them had brought them to the same point of crisis and the same need from Jesus.

They both needed deliverance, rescue, salvation, from what was destroying their lives.

Now, it’s easy to see Jairus at this point, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, waiting and wondering what Jesus is doing.

He sees Jesus talking to a woman who looks pretty unimportant, and he knows that every second that passes is another second in which his daughter edges closer to death.

But Jesus seems to be in no hurry.

He’s trying to make a connection with someone He healed.

Eventually, the woman comes forward.

Exactly like Jairus earlier, she falls down at Jesus’ feet.

Now, however, she is confessing what Mark says is “the whole truth.”

She’s telling Jesus everything, likely starting twelve years ago when she first got this condition, progressing through all the failed medical treatments, (maybe) alluding to the medical bills that had piled up and drained her finances, (maybe) mentioning how this condition had crippled her spiritual and family life, and even acknowledging how she’d broken the Law of Moses in order to get close enough to touch Him.

But when she’s done confessing, here’s what Jesus says: “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

We’re not told her reaction, but I can’t help but think that her “fear and trembling” with which she approached Jesus suddenly transformed into a mixture of relief and joy.