By the time you set your gaze on this article, my only daughter will have turned one year old. I adore that little girl’s smile. I’m so proud when she offers me some of her cheerios, I laugh when she crawls at full speed to tackle me in bed, and I love how she bounces to familiar songs I ask Alexa to play in our living room. I am not overwhelmed when she screams her way into learning English. No, I want to suspend time because I’m so infatuated with how my daughter interacts with me, nestles her head on my chest when she’s tired, and reaches out to me from her crib after naps.
And I know what my future holds when it comes to my daughter, Marceline. First steps, birthday candles, holding hands on our walks to church, listening to her thought-processes concerning the geo-political conflicts in the Middle East, and many half finished coloring books. Not to brag, but my house will be filled with laughter, hope, and light.
In the bible there is an unnamed woman whose home was filled with cries, gloom, and darkness. She was someone’s daughter. She had once learned the Hebrew alphabet, took her first steps, and attended her first day of school. As a woman, she was hemorrhaging blood for 12 years, hemorrhaging finances on doctors who couldn’t help her, hemorrhaging friends from her inner circle because of her condition. She was desperate when she heard about this new charismatic healer, Jesus, coming through town.
He was passing through to heal a 12-year-old girl. She was the only daughter of a religious clergy named Jairus, a desperate dad hoping for a miracle. His 401K couldn’t save his daughter, or his social network and his educational background. I’m sure he wanted to go back to when his daughter held his hand on their way to church, passed him some of her cheerios, and laughed at his silly dad dancing.
With Jesus at his side, Jairus’ fear must’ve converted to excitement, confidence, the healer was almost there, hang tight sweetie. But when this bleeding woman derailed their itinerary, I’m sure his dominant emotion was red-hot anger.
Hadn’t he prayed to Jesus first? Hadn’t Jairus tithed, served, and read his bible more than this stranger? Jesus paused not only to heal her, but also to redeem her dignity, to restore her honor, and acknowledge her as His daughter in front of the crowds. I’m glad she came for healing and got a relationship with Jesus. That’s all well and nice, but Jairus’ daughter is dying. So I’m sure that anger compounded when news came shortly afterwards that they were late. Jairus’ daughter had died.
Jesus knew when He offered Jairus hope that they would be interrupted. He knew when He was walking that the girl was dead, that messengers were on the adjacent road, and Jairus would become afraid. That’s why He stopped to heal this hemorrhaging woman. To show Jairus that He alone could save. He reminds Jairus in Luke 8:50, “Don’t be afraid, just believe.”
This account in the Gospel shows such a tender Jesus, who speaks to us with gentleness and enters into our desperate situations. We accurately see that He’s interruptible, listens to us and delights in healing us. This event in history also teaches us that it’s not about the quality of your faith but the object of our faith. There is no formula to His intervention. He doesn’t show partiality because you read your bible more. He doesn’t take away thorns from people’s sides just because they plant churches and He heals sometimes because of the faith of others. It’s not the quality of your faith but the quality of Jesus that matters.
I encourage you to read this section of Luke 8, where Jesus shows we all have equal access to God. His healing could come immediately according to the text or it could take 12 years. He is depicted as entering into our desperate situations and is the only one who can save.
Very well said!!! I love what you are doing at Gateway Appalachian!!! God IS good!!!