God's Presence in the Midst of Grief; a sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 5:21-43

²¹ Jesus crossed the lake again, and on the other side a large crowd gathered around him on the shore. ²² Jairus, one of the synagogue leaders, came forward. When he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet ²³ and pleaded with him, “ My daughter is about to die. Please, come and place your hands on her so that she can be healed and live. ” ²⁴ So Jesus went with him.

A swarm of people were following Jesus, crowding in on him. ²⁵ A woman was there who had been bleeding for twelve years. ²⁶ She had suffered a lot under the care of many doctors, and had spent everything she had without getting any better. In fact, she had gotten worse. ²⁷ Because she had heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his clothes. ²⁸ She was thinking, If I can just touch his clothes, I’ll be healed. ²⁹ Her bleeding stopped immediately, and she sensed in her body that her illness had been healed.

³⁰ At that very moment, Jesus recognized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and said, “ Who touched my clothes? ”

³¹ His disciples said to him, “ Don’t you see the crowd pressing against you? Yet you ask, ‘Who touched me?’ ” ³² But Jesus looked around carefully to see who had done it.

³³ The woman, full of fear and trembling, came forward. Knowing what had happened to her, she fell down in front of Jesus and told him the whole truth. ³⁴ He responded, “ Daughter, your faith has healed you; go in peace, healed from your disease. ”

³⁵ While Jesus was still speaking with her, messengers came from the synagogue leader’s house, saying to Jairus, “ Your daughter has died. Why bother the teacher any longer? ”

³⁶ But Jesus overheard their report and said to the synagogue leader, “ Don’t be afraid; just keep trusting. ” ³⁷ He didn’t allow anyone to follow him except Peter, James, and John, James’ brother. ³⁸ They came to the synagogue leader’s house, and he saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. ³⁹ He went in and said to them, “ What’s all this commotion and crying about? The child isn’t dead. She’s only sleeping. ” ⁴⁰ They laughed at him, but he threw them all out. Then, taking the child’s parents and his disciples with him, he went to the room where the child was. ⁴¹ Taking her hand, he said to her, “ Talitha koum , ” which means, “ Young woman, get up. ” ⁴² Suddenly the young woman got up and began to walk around. She was twelve years old. They were shocked! ⁴³ He gave them strict orders that no one should know what had happened. Then he told them to give her something to eat.

Let the words of my mouth

and the meditations of my heart

be pleasing to you,

LORD, my rock and my redeemer.

Today’s texts capture some hard moments for David and for Jairus.

David could be celebrating. Saul has been defeated; David is usurping the throne. But he isn’t celebrating. He has been serving in Saul’s court for some time. I suspect he had developed some love for the old king. And he had undoubtedly developed a deep relationship with his son Jonathan. And now both are gone.

Jairus is overwhelmed by fear that he is about to lose his daughter. And on the way home the news confirms his fear.

Happy readings, right?

It’s essentially at this time that I celebrate one year with you. One busy, wonderful, heart-wrenching and heart-breaking year.

I need to recognize the fact that we have had a hard year. And in the midst of the profound loss that we’ve been suffering, I want to thank you for trusting me to be your pastor. I want to thank you for welcoming me into your lives when grief and the heart-wrenching busy-ness of saying goodbye to brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers and husbands and wives.

I want to thank you for trusting me, because I haven’t had time to earn your trust. But I want to earn your trust. I want to be here for you.

I also want to say all the right words; to be there for you every moment you need me; to be available at a moment’s notice.

And in the midst of my own flawed humanity, I covenant to do my best to be the face of Christ for you.

And, as is usually the case, from this pulpit I want to share Christ with you through our readings for this week.

Jairus and David have two different experiences - very different experiences - with God’s presence and action in the midst of profound grief.

Jesus wakes Jairus’ daughter. No one wakes Saul or Jonathan.

One period of grief turns to celebration. The other doesn’t turn at all.

Honestly, I struggle to have much to say about Jairus’ story. What am I supposed to do? Tell you that if you believe strongly enough, God will bring people back to life? That, therefore, if you had prayed harder, you wouldn’t be grieving?

No. Way.

I’m not going to lie to you.

Sometimes really terrible stuff happens.

And the best we can do is be faithful enough to respond by crying out to God.

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.
²   Lord, hear my voice!

And let me let you in on a little secret. I pray that a good bit. And when I ask God to hear my voice, I find I don’t necessarily have anything to say.

I just need to know that God’s listening.

And when I discover I don’t have anything to say, do you know what I do?

“Hay God, nice chat. I’m gonna go now!”

No.

I listen.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
   and in his word I hope;
⁶ my soul waits for the Lord
   more than those who watch for the morning,
   more than those who watch for the morning. 

David knew God was present. David knew that God was the only One in whom he could trust.

Jairus knew that, too. That’s why he came and found Jesus. This leader of the synagogue found himself in a hopeless situation, so he found the highest spiritual authority he could.

Because sometimes our spiritual leaders are weak, too.

We need times to be able to reach out, to recharge, to find strength in Christ.

And that comes in all different shapes and sizes.

But nowhere have I ever found God’s presence more consistent or more potent than at the Table where we gather to share a meal.

So this morning, as we commemorate one year together - one hard, wonderful, gut-wrenching, spirit-filled year - let’s do it with a meal. Let’s celebrate God’s presence with us, even in the most difficult of times, in the bread and cup where Jesus still promises to meet us today.