“A Private Miracle”

Text: Mark 5: 35-43 Esv

We’re in Magdala, back on the road toward the house of Jairus. You’ll remember that the crowd was pushing in on Jesus and his disciples when a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years touched him and “pickpocketed” his divine healing power. Jesus stops the procession and ferrets her out only to give her a fuller, more complete blessing:

“Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

The text picks up there. . . .

35 While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler's house some who said, "Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?" 36 But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, "Do not fear, only believe." 37 And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James.
38 They came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and Jesus saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 And when he had entered, he said to them, "Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping." 40 And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside and took the child's father and mother and those who were with him and went in where the child was. 41 Taking her by the hand he said to her, "Talitha cumi," which means, "Little girl, I say to you, arise." 42 And immediately the girl got up and began walking (for she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. 43 And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.†

Blackie the chihuahua

I grew up in Riverside. Across the street lived a little, black chihuahua named Blackie, owned by an older retired couple. Whenever I was outside playing, Blackie would stand in his driveway and bark angrily at me. I was afraid of him. He was an old dog with graying, bulbous bug eyes and he always shivered as if cold, or as I imagined, raging with hatred for me. The thing is, I loved dogs and wanted to befriend every dog in the neighborhood, if not the world. I couldn’t even approach Blackie. Even after a couple of years, whenever I came near, he barked his maddog bark and brandished his yellowing chihuahua choppers.

One day, when his master was out working on the lawn, he saw me watching Blackie and I think he could tell that I was afraid. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, “Blackie won’t bite, he’s just a barker.” I was sure Blackie wanted nothing more than to eat my arm meat at the first opportunity. There are some things you can tell a person and they can just do. Walk over there, stand on one foot, clap your hands—those are all easy—but there are other things that are easy to say but difficult or impossible to do. “Don’t be afraid” belongs to that former group. Wouldn’t it be great if—when afraid—someone could dispel all your fear just by saying, “Don’t be afraid”? To me, at six years old, the very thought of Blackie and fear itself were perfectly interchangeable.

Question: Why Bother?

Jairus, the synagogue ruler, the most prominent man in Magdala, is terrified of death. Not his own death, but that of his little daughter, which is why he got down on his knees and begged Jesus to heal her. The momentary distraction of the bleeding woman comes to its end as Jesus blesses her, but even as he’s speaking, Jairus’ people come up and say, “Why bother the teacher further? It’s too late; your daughter is dead.”

The reality of death is the ultimate terror. It is reasonably the end of all things. Jairus’ daughter has been pronounced dead. The family has turned off all the machines and are talking funeral preparations. In the face of death, all Jairus’ people can say is, “All is lost, there’s no hope—death has spoken—there’s nothing the teacher can do.” Certainly Jesus was a teacher, but the word they use is not Rabbi, but teacher. Their fault is that in calling him teacher they minimize him—they neglect all else that he is: Healer, Messiah, Son of God, and Lord.

We’re blessing some teachers here today and as we do so we do well to remember that good teachers are those who do more than just teach. The best teachers are so much more than mere teachers, for they love their students and care for each and every one. Teaching things is only part of the package. We know that students who feel loved by their teachers learn more, perform better, and grow in their love of learning. We honor our teachers when we rightly remember that they are more than mere teachers; they are ministers of the good news of God through Jesus Christ.

The very moment Jairus hears news of his daughter’s death, Jesus is in the other ear saying, “Fear not, only believe.” We have no record of what Jairus said next, but I imagine it was the ancient equivalent of “Really? Believe now? Still? Even after death?” Whether he believed or not, he kept following, which is a great thing for us to remember in our times of doubt: Keep following, because Jesus is full of excellent surprises.  

Crowd Control

The crowd that had pushed in on Jesus has been stilled by the miracle with the bleeding woman. I expect they’ve stopped pushing and are now standing amazed at what happened. Jesus orders them to stay and only takes Peter, James and John with him to Jairus’ house. The remaining disciples now exercise crowd control to keep the people where they are while Jesus and the others move on.

Change of scene: at the house of Jairus, the news of his daughter’s death has all the professional mourners of Magdala battling for business. Mourning was a respectable profession in Jesus’ day, but this would have been the biggest gig of the year—every mourner in town would have wanted a piece of the action, for it’s not every day the most prominent (and wealthy) man in town has a death under his roof.

When Jairus, Jesus and their people show up at the house, it is a hullabaloo of mourning. Wailers, moaners, musicians with flutes, lyres and drums, and women in black rolling their tongues as they howl and sob—all are doing their best to dramatically demonstrate the great grief that Jairus and his family were feeling.

Jesus rebukes the crowd, saying:

"Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping.”

A Big Laugh

Upon hearing Jesus, the mourners do a 180° mood-shift from crying and wailing to laughing. This is crazy and  would be something to see! Their tearful, contorted faces suddenly dropping pretense, breaking character and opening into laughter—derisive or otherwise—at this teacher who, not even having been into the house, sees fit to declare that she is merely sleeping.

Let’s be clear: ancient peoples knew death when they saw it, for they saw a lot of it. Every day people died, but not in hospitals or hospice centers; they died at home with the whole family around. Though they did not have our sophisticated understanding of anatomy and medicine, they did indeed know when someone was dead. They knew that Jairus’ daughter was dead and not just asleep or comatose; they wouldn’t dare make that kind of a mistake with the synagogue ruler. How amusing then, that this teacher, addresses death as mere sleep. In this moment we have a picture—a portrait of the beginning of a new spiritual era—the first announcement of the Christian hope that death is no longer the ultimate power. “Fear not, only believe,” says Jesus.

To finish the Blackie story, you need to know that I did overcome that fear. Mr. Wilson held Blackie in his arms and had me come forward. As I came near, the little dog was still nervous and sputtering, but his tail wagged and he licked his lips, put his ears back, and I was able to pet him. All fear vanished immediately, and I couldn’t understand why I had ever been afraid.

Jesus transformed death. Death is no longer the fearsome monster of nature, but is now tamed down to the bliss of sleep—a cozy catnap.  Even today, Christianity’s word to the world is that death is no monster. Death has been conquered and tamed, like a barking little Chihuahua with no bite—nothing to fear.

“Up Girl!”

Jesus, three of his disciples, and the girl’s parents go back to her room. This is a private miracle. “Talitha Cumi” means “Up little girl.” No mumbo jumbo, no fanfare, no crowds—just healing. The girl gets up and starts walking around, because, well, that’s what 12-year-olds do. She is raised from death and completely restored. The people were all “amazed with amazement.” It blew their minds. They had no categories to define or store such an experience. This was beyond expectation, beyond hope, and beyond belief.

And then Jesus “strictly orders” them that no one is to know about this miracle. This would have been a difficult secret to keep! On the surface, it almost sounds as though he’s done something that needs to be covered up, but this is another clear expression of the Messianic Secret in Mark. People are told again and agian, “Do not go and tell.” Jesus provides in private and refuses make a show of his power. He will not use his healings as way of gaining attention. When he heals, it’s because there is a real person in real need and he wants to make things right in his world.

Faith Not Proof

Unlike the TV healers seeking to capture the Holy Spirit on video in order that they might sell prayer hankies to vulnerable shut-ins, Jesus does nothing for show. Yes, Jesus does a healing—the greatest healing of all: raising life from death—but under the condition of secrecy. Once the miracle is complete, Jesus immediately serves the witnesses a gag order. They are strictly ordered to tell no one.

We read from scripture that God’s will is to painstakingly avoid showiness in self-revelation. Even the most visible self-revelation of God in Christ—walking and talking among us—maintains a secretive distance. God is  guarded, cautious, and mostly hidden.

Since the fall from grace in Eden, it has been this way. God is veiled, hidden, reluctant to show us too much. What is too much? Enough to prove himself. God will not prove himself. He doesn’t answer to humanity in that way. He avoids proof. All of the greatest of miracles—virgin birth, resurrection, raising the dead—remain veiled and guarded by a possibility of other explanations. In order that faith be real, there must be room for doubt.

God does not prove himself, which means God has designed us to relate to him by faith alone. The relationship is one of belief, as with the bleeding woman or Jairus—both of whom believed first and then saw his power.

Why didn’t the bleeding woman or Jairus demand proof first? How were they able to believe? We don’t know. They just believed, or were enabled to believe. Either way we see that God’s design for relating to humanity is through simple belief. Jairus and the woman believed simply upon the testimony of others—the news reports about Jesus through Galilee—nothing else. That is exactly like our faith. The scriptures are the testimony to us—the reports of who God is and how he acts in history. Once we hear the testimony, we are called to believe and follow.

Naysayers

Plenty of people in our world would say, “That’s not enough—I’m rational—I need a bit more evidence in order to believe. I’m not going to simply believe because others say so.” That’s normal. You and I have heard the same testimony as those who disbelieve, so why do we believe while others do not? That is ultimately a mystery. We may be called to believe—God may have created us to believe, as Calvinists say. Perhaps Jairus, the bleeding woman, and we too have been empowered by the Holy Spirit to believe. There’s certainly nothing wrong with saying so.

But what if it is true that we do indeed choose to believe? Perhaps forces and circumstances act upon us to change our minds. The woman’s suffering may have gradually predisposed her toward believing. Likewise, Jairus’ despair over his daughter’s terminal illness may have prepared him for belief, after which, believing came easily.

We will not work out here and now how someone comes to belief, but we can agree that believing precedes a true knowledge of God. There is no knowing God without faith, and all knowledge of God not grounded in belief is of questionable value.

Believing First

In 1 Corinthians 13, the apostle Paul says: “love believes all things,” meaning not that love is totally gullible and willing to believe in UFOs, ghosts and conspiracies, but rather that love—especially loving God—predisposes us toward belief.  A heart that longs to love God and know God will go further than the one that sits back skeptically with its arms crossed.

In John 20, when Thomas meets the resurrected Jesus, he doesn’t want to believe. Jesus says to him:

“Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.”

To say that believing comes before true knowledge of God means that we need to work on our believing first. This means we need to cultivate a believing attitude. We are to choose an inclination toward belief—toward believing rather than disbelieving.

Here are three things we can all do:

1. Create headspace toward the possibility.

• “I could be wrong about my disbelief.”

• “I will be open rather than dismissive.”

• “I will seek to believe.”

2. Acknowledge your disbeliefs alongside your known beliefs.

• We all believe things and disbelieve others. Taking personal inventory of what we believe and don’t believe is a healthy practice.

• “I believe in Jesus. I don’t believe in 9/11 conspiracies.” Just know the difference and tally them up.

• Remember Mark 9: 24 

   Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, "I believe; help my unbelief!" 

3. Pray for God to self-reveal to you and to others struggling with belief.

I don’t know how people come to belief. Some years ago I was working with a family, the father of which was an alcoholic and divorce was imminent. He was a disbeliever and pretty miserable person inside. In seeking self-improvement, he entered AA and became sober. He then asked to meet with me. We met on a weekly basis over coffee. His belief evolved from atheism to agnosticism to a belief in a “higher power” that he could not define. I spent hours sharing Bible stories and gospel testimonies with him. Finally, he came to belief in God, and now proclaimed that his former belief in a higher power was a silly dodge.

One week, he said, “I believe in God—just God—but I can’t make any sense at all of the trinity and Jesus dying and all of that other stuff. How did you come to believe in all of that extra stuff?”

I told him that I don’t know why I believe it, but I asked him to do one thing every day that week: to pray that God would self-reveal to him. “Just pray,” I said, “God, show me who you are. Let me know you as you truly are.” I realized it was risky—that he might return the next week feeling like Buddha or Vishnu were God—but I also promised to pray for him every day, and I did, several times a day, that God would reveal himself to him.

Meanwhile, I was preparing to answer every possible question about the Trinity I could imagine. I reviewed everything, readying to defend, persuade and proclaim whatever he might need to hear.

When we met for coffee the next week, I introduced the topic by comparing the Trinity to water, which exists as solid, liquid and gas as one substance. He politely interrupted me and said, “I believe it.” “What?” I said. He continued, “I believe—all of it—the Trinity, the death and resurrection of Jesus, the Holy Spirit—I believe.” I was dumbfounded. “How did you come to believe it?” I asked. “I did what you said,” he explained, “and I realized that it is all true and that somewhere deep down I have always known it is true, but I was just resisting. As I prayed, God revealed my resistance and I let it go. I believe.”

I had the privilege of baptizing that man and seeing his family launched on a new phase of their life.

“Fear not, only believe”

How we come to faith is a mystery. We don’t really know if we choose it personally or whether it is simply and purely a gift of the Holy Spirit, but we can seek belief. We can pray for belief for others and for ourselves. We can indeed enter into that private space where we meet the living Christ and enter into an eternal relationship with him. Our lives can become miraculous and we can be amazed with amazement, sharing the joy and wonder of knowing God’s love, grace and power.

†