Today’s reading is Luke 7:1-8:56.

I can’t imagine being Jairus. My oldest daughter will be 12 in six months. I can hardly imagine her lying on her death bed. If I were approaching Jesus, I would be frantic. “Please, Rabbi, come quickly! Come now! I’m begging you!” I would be yelling at the crowds. “Get out of the way! Can’t you see who I am! I’m the ruler of the synagogue! My daughter’s dying! Move! You’re holding us up! Jesus will get back to you later!”

The text is surprisingly silent about how Jairus responded when Jesus stopped and asked the seemingly insane question, “Who touched me?” I don’t know how Jairus would have reacted. I know how I would have reacted. “Rabbi, please. Does it matter? We’ll never know. You’re wasting time. My daughter…!” I would probably be tugging on His sleeve, trying to get Him to hurry.

But Jesus just stands there until this woman admitted what she had done. I can’t believe Jesus stopped to deal with this unclean women when my daughter lies at home dying. If we don’t hurry she may be dead before we get there. “Hurry!”

Then the unthinkable. A servant comes. I can see it on his face. It’s over. She’s gone. One of my greatest sources of joy has been snuffed out, just as she was beginning to blossom. She was about to enter womanhood and now she’s gone. The servant speaks anyway. I’m already crying. “Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the Teacher any more.” 

Would I collapse right there on the spot? I have a feeling this rule of the synagogue wouldn’t want to display such weakness. I might take the same approach. Snuff back the tears. There will be time for that in private. But the resentment for this woman who had the audacity to touch the teacher while my daughter was dying would already have been born. I wonder if I can get her kicked out of the synagogue.

However, the Teacher has said something amazing. “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well.” Is that possible? It is too late. He must not understand. The servant didn’t say she was mostly dead. He said she was all the way dead. All that’s left is to go through her pockets for loose change. But the Teacher starts walking to my house again.

As we approach, the mourners are in full swing. There is no doubt. She’s dead. Everyone knows it. Jesus is too late. After all, He might be a wonder at healing, but nobody raises people from the dead. The mourners we’ve hired laugh when Jesus says she’s only sleeping. I have mixed emotions. I can hardly believe any good can come from this. On the other hand, I want to believe. But it is just too late.

Jesus kicks everyone out but three of his followers and my wife and me. I can see her. She’s dead. There is no flutter of the eyelids. The chest does not raise even a little with breath. Her hands and face are already cold to touch. Nothing. Dead. Jesus is too late.

He steps close to me and pulls my little girls hand out of mine. He says, “Child arise.” I’m trying to believe, but can hardly do it. I just didn’t get Jesus here on time. We might have made it if it hadn’t been for the crowds or that blasted woman. 

But then…did she do what I thought? Did I just see a catch of breath? Her eyes are fluttering open. How can this be? She’s alive? She was not asleep. I know that. She was dead. But this Rabbi has just brought my daughter back to me. “Yes, yes, giver her something to eat. Anything He says. Anything she wants.” She can hardly eat because my wife and I are smothering her with hugs.

I learned something about Jesus today. He may not be on my time schedule, but He is never late. Next time, I’ll wait on Him patiently.

Keep the faith and keep reading,

ELC

P.S. What did you get out of today’s reading?