This was unbelievable! Unacceptable. Was this woman not from around here? Did she not know who he was? Had she not noticed he was there first? He’d made it a point to be. Arriving early, he’d attempted to squash the defeat already taking up residence in the line of his shoulders. Carefully inching his way along, mingling and chatting, Jairus positioned himself at the front of the constantly growing crowd. Impatiently he’d waited, wondering what schedule Jesus was keeping, hoping his urgent request would keep, silently praying his efforts wouldn’t be in vain. He had no plan for when Jesus arrived. Had no idea what he’d do. How he’d convince Him to leave behind the needy crowd and follow him home. He wasn’t selfish enough to believe he was the only one there with an urgent need. He knew better. But right there, in that moment, Jairus wanted nothing more than to have his request answered immediately.
A short time ago, his 12-year-old daughter had fallen ill. He’d carried her to bed, confident she’d be up running around again in the next day or two. She hadn’t been. She’d never gotten up again. Days had passed. Her eyes rarely opened. Her skin burned with fever. Her breathing became labored. They’d tried everything. Every doctor. Every tincture. Every old wives’ tale. It had all been useless. There were no signs of improvement. She was still in bed. Gravely ill. Growing worse. Clearly dying.
Jairus’ heart was broken. It seemed so unfair, so unreasonable, so unstoppable. A child, his child, her life cut short at the beginning. A light extinguished before ever reaching the pinnacle of brightness. His heart could barely take the pain. But he’d heard the stories whispered around the synagogue. Stories about Jesus casting out demons, cleansing lepers, raising the dead, and healing the sick. And even if he wasn’t certain he believed everything Jesus taught, he’d do anything to heal his little girl. That’s why he was here. Jesus was his final hope. (Luke 4:31-41; 5:12-14; 6:17-19; 7:11-15)
Anxiously awaiting Jesus’ arrival, Jairus’ tortured mind raced with possibilities. What if it didn’t work? What if Jesus didn’t do it? What if He wouldn’t come? What if He was fresh out of miracles? What if his daughter was the one case, the one time Jesus said, “No”? Jairus wouldn’t have it. He wouldn’t stand for it. He needed that miracle. Today. Now. This moment. So, when Jesus finally arrived, Jairus did the only thing his breaking heart could think to do. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet. Disregarding the indignity, he sobbed there. Tears of anguish rolled unheeded down his face as he begged, pleaded, hoped for a miracle. Not for himself. Not directly. For his daughter. His only daughter. The twelve-year-old light of his world.
Jesus hadn’t hesitated. Immediately they turned toward Jairus’ house. But only a few steps along, Jesus stopped. Completely. Just stood there. Looking around. Having a conversation with his disciples. Asking questions about who touched whom? What a ridiculous question! Given the press of the crowd, any number of people had bumped into one another, jostling one or the other into someone else. Few, if any, in the crowd hadn’t been accidentally touched. Brushed against. Nudged. It wasn’t a reason to stop their current mission and launch a full-scale investigation! Seriously! This could not be happening! Not now. Not today. Not to him.
Frustration warred with anger, finally settling in the lines of incredulity and outrage creasing Jairus’ face. What was up with this woman?! She was standing there perfectly whole and well. She had no obvious pressing need. She wasn’t pleading with Jesus to go a different direction. Indeed, she admitted she had already gotten her miracle. Stolen it, really. She’d snuck up behind Jesus and just taken what she wanted. And, instead of reprimanding her and hurrying on His way, Jesus was having a full-blown conversation with her! While his daughter lay dying, Jesus busied Himself with blessing a miracle thief!
It was not to be borne! But just as Jairus was about to speak up, urging Jesus to get back on task, one of his servants pushed through the crowd. Stopping before him, the man quietly spoke words that sucked every drop of oxygen from Jairus’ lungs. It was too late. Jesus hadn’t gotten there in time. His baby girl had lost her fight. She was dead. There was no need to bother Jesus anymore. No need to talk to Him. No need to take Him home. No reason to separate Him from others who had waited so long to see Him. Jairus had his answer.
Bowing his head, he attempted to gather appropriate words for the moment. If Jesus had simply come, and kept coming, when he’d first gotten there. If the crowd hadn’t pressed in so tightly, making passage impossible. If that woman who had already lived the majority of her allotted years, hadn’t stolen a miracle, refused to come forward, and held them all up so long. Then, maybe then, Jesus would have gotten to his girl in time. She wouldn’t be dead. His heart wouldn’t be shattered. His life wouldn’t look like a gaping, empty hole.
Words may have escaped Jairus, but not Jesus. Into that moment of devastating pain, when help hadn’t arrived and hope was gone, Jesus told Jairus not to be afraid. Don’t let your fear quench your faith. Keep believing. There’s still a miracle here for you. Something for you to believe in, hope for. It might not look the way you thought it would. It may not happen the way you believe it should. It might not have come when you hoped it would. But there is still going to be a miracle. And there was.
Arriving at Jairus’ house to the sound of mourning, Jesus immediately took charge. He told them to calm down, quiet down, give it a rest. That’s what the girl was doing. Sleeping. Peacefully. She was fine. No one believed it. In hesitant but hopeful faith, Jairus and his wife led Jesus to their daughter’s sickbed. Standing back, they waited. Watched to see if He’d step away, the situation beyond His power. He didn’t. Jesus stepped forward, clasped the child’s small hand in His larger one and told her to get up. And she did. She didn’t just wake up, she sat up. Stood up. Her fever was gone. Her color was normal. Her appetite was back. It was a miracle. Their miracle. Not the one they originally requested. Not the one they thought was best. Not the one that suited their timeframe. It was the miracle God chose for them, done on His schedule and in His way. (Luke 8:40-56)
Most of us have spent time in that pre-miracle space with Jairus. We’ve sat in our worry and fear, begging, pleading, hoping, praying for a miracle. We’ve waited for days, weeks, months, years, but nothing happens. For us. Others get their miracles. People who haven’t prayed as long, needed as desperately, or struggled as hard. It seems so unfair. It’s almost difficult to watch. Try as we might, laughing with those who laugh becomes increasingly difficult. Our faith falters. Our hope fades. Our finite minds that can see only today and our own human plans for the future conjure ways to fix the problem. We imagine sweeping miracles. A giant windfall to fix our financial shortfall. A negative scan to replace the positive one. The sudden change of an enemy’s heart. We know God can do all of these things. We believe He has the power. What we falter over, what trips us up the most, is wondering if He will. (Romans 12:15)
Sitting in that space where the worst had already happened, it is interesting that Jesus tells Jairus to keep believing. Apparently Jairus had already abandoned the modicum of faith that brought him to Jesus in the first place. It’s unsurprising. For Jairus, the situation was unsalvageable. His daughter was dead. His faith died with her. Yet Jesus tells him, “Don’t let your fear keep you from believing.” In Jesus. In God. In the sovereignty of heaven over the futility of earth. Don’t let your fear that God won’t or can’t do what you ask keep you from asking anyway. In faith. Trusting in the wisdom and power of God.
You see, Jesus wasn’t telling Jairus to believe he would get the outcome he wanted. Nor was He accusing Jairus of faith too weak to bring about the desired answer. He was encouraging Jairus to believe in Him–His power, His wisdom, His heart–even when it looked like things weren’t going to go his way. This was Jesus telling Jairus to believe in the goodness of God. To have faith in the power of God. To trust the heart and wisdom of God. Always. In every situation. No matter the outcome. Never give up. Never stop. Always keep believing.
The simplest words to say are often the most difficult to enact. So frequently do we say those words that they almost seem trite. Keep the faith. Keep believing. Trust God. Yet when Jesus says them they ring with new meaning. Intentionality. Purpose. Action. Choose to believe. In Him. Believe in His heart of love for you in the good times and the bad. Believe that He is for you even when it feels like He is against you. Believe that He hears the cries of your broken, tired, terrified heart, and know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that He cares more about your needs and knows your desires better than you do. Have faith that, no matter what happens, God is busy working out your future for His glory and your good. Even when you don’t see it. Even when you don’t feel it. Even when what happens feels like the death of your faith. Don’t let it be. Pick it up. Dust it off. Refuse to let your fear trump your faith. And don’t ever stop believing in the power and promises of God. (Hebrews 10:23; Matthew 17:20; Proverbs 3:5-6; Psalm 23:4; 27:13; 50:15; Isaiah 58:9)
Amen!