Luke 8:41-56 (NKJV) Also see Matthew 9:18-26 and Mark 5:22-43.
41 And behold, there came a man named Jairus, and he was a ruler of the synagogue. And he fell down at Jesus’ feet and begged Him to come to his house, 42 for he had an only daughter about twelve years of age, and she was dying.
But as He went, the multitudes thronged Him. 43 Now a woman, having a flow of blood for twelve years, who had spent all her livelihood on physicians and could not be healed by any, 44 came from behind and touched the border of His garment. And immediately her flow of blood stopped.
45 And Jesus said, “Who touched Me?”
When all denied it, Peter and those with him said, “Master, the multitudes throng and press You, and You say, ‘Who touched Me?’ ”
46 But Jesus said, “Somebody touched Me, for I perceived power going out from Me.” 47 Now when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling; and falling down before Him, she declared to Him in the presence of all the people the reason she had touched Him and how she was healed immediately.
48 And He said to her, “Daughter, be of good cheer; your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”
49 While He was still speaking, someone came from the ruler of the synagogue’s house, saying to him, “Your daughter is dead. Do not trouble the Teacher.”
50 But when Jesus heard it, He answered him, saying, “Do not be afraid; only believe, and she will be made well.” 51 When He came into the house, He permitted no one to go in except Peter, James, and John, and the father and mother of the girl. 52 Now all wept and mourned for her; but He said, “Do not weep; she is not dead, but sleeping.” 53 And they ridiculed Him, knowing that she was dead.
54 But He put them all outside, took her by the hand and called, saying, “Little girl, arise.”55 Then her spirit returned, and she arose immediately. And He commanded that she be given something to eat. 56 And her parents were astonished, but He charged them to tell no one what had happened.
Jairus’ Story Imagined
“There is nothing else I can do. I’m sorry.” Jairus felt the weight of the physician’s hand on his shoulder as he left the room–a transfer of burden from doctor to father. Sinking to the floor by his daughter’s bed, he touched her cool, sunken cheek. The contrast of his sun-darkened hand against her pale skin startled him. He snached his hand away. Instead, he pulled the blanket up under her chin and tucked the edges around her frail body. If he didn’t know she was 12 years old he would have guessed years younger.
Whether she was sleeping or unconscious was hard to tell, but her chest rose and fell slightly with barely audible breaths. He clamped his eyes shut and willed her to breathe deeply and clearly. He tried to pray, but there was no new prayer to recite. All he could manage was vague begging aimed in God’s direction. The only response was her wheezy breathing. Each faint rattle echoed in his head, judging his failure as a father.
There had to be something else he could do.
The Rabbi had prayed for her. Doctors had assessed her. He and his wife had followed every instruction for her care. He was the leader of the synagogue for heaven’s sake. The whole community knew of Talitha’s illness. Today, dozens of people invaded his home and his mind with their sympathetic chattering. Why were they here? All at once they reminded him of vultures waiting for prey to die. Revolting. He wished they would go away.
He wrestled yet again with the Jesus option. Jairus wasn’t sure he believed the reports about the healing teacher, but oh, he wanted to right now. He pushed the thought aside. He could lose his job. Jesus was not on his superiors’ approval list. Their threats against anyone who followed or spoke well of Jesus made that clear.
Maintaining the synagogue and arranging the services gave him purpose, made him feel closer to God. He liked his job. He had worked hard to earn the appointment. But he loved his daughter, his only child. Would it make God angry if he talked to Jesus? A low moan escaped Talatha’s throat. Jairus covered his face with his hand and moaned too–if only to mask the sound of her suffering.
The name Jesus became a pulse in his mind. He had to try. There was no time left, no pride left, and only enough hope left to propel him to his feet and out the door. He quizzed a few people to see where he could find Jesus, then sprinted off to the shore. Sure enough, a large crowd choked an area of the beach. Undeterred, he pushed his way through until suddenly he was face to face with the teacher.
Jesus looked at him expectantly. Jairus fell at Jesus’ feet. For a moment even the crowd was silent. Then he dared to look up, found his courage and said, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well and live.” Jesus said nothing, but nodded and strode away as the crowd parted. Jairus scrambled up from the dirt and followed.
Jesus seemed to know the way without directions. They moved quickly despite the jostling of the crowd swarming around them. Still, Jairus’ chest throbbed with impatience to reach his daughter.
Then, Jesus simply stopped. “Who touched me?” He said.
With the abrupt halt the mass of the crowd caught up and surrounded them creating a small stage for the action. Jesus turned in a slow circle, making eye contact with those closest to him. Jairus clenched his jaw in frustration. One of his disciples replied by stating the obvious. “Master, people are all around you, pushing against you.”
Jairus was on the verge of physically yanking Jesus toward his home when a trembling woman approached and knelt. She explained that she had spent all her money hoping to cure a discharge of blood that had troubled her for 12 years. The crowd took a visible step back. Jairus’ mouth twisted in disgust. If she was bleeding she was unclean.
She continued, “I was thinking, if I can just touch his clothes I will be healed.” Jairus eyed the hem of Jesus’ robe. Could it be that easy? What if he ... But Jesus interrupted his thought and said to the woman, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” There was nothing special about Jesus’ clothes. Her faith and the power of Jesus freed her from 12 years of isolation. 12 years–the same age as his daughter. There had to be hope for Talitha too.
Hope, however, was crushed by the arrival of messengers from Jairus’ house.“Your daughter is dead. There is no need to bother the teacher?” Jairus couldn’t find his next breath. The ground seemed to shift under his feet. Jesus steadied him, looked into his eyes and spoke directly to him for the first time. “Do not fear, only believe.” Then he resumed his brisk pace toward Jairus’ house.
Before he could see them Jairus heard the human vultures. Wails and mourning cries assaulted his ears and his faith. His daughter was dead, truly. Jesus walked up to the loudest of the mourners and said, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” Laughter replaced their wailing. Jairus was momentarily fascinated by the mourners’ quick transition from theatrical sorrow to cruel amusement. The truth of their presence snapped into focus. Attention was their feast, gossip their dessert.
With unchallenged authority Jesus cleared the house. He gathered only three of his followers and asked Jairus and his wife to lead the way. The six of them crowded into the girl’s room and surrounded her bed.
Jairus stared at the still, pale figure on the bed. He heard the stifled sobs of his wife and pulled her close. Leaning in he whispered, “Jesus said she is only sleeping.” He closed his eyes and pictured his daughter asleep. Dark lashes rested on plump, pink cheeks. Her chest rose and fell in natural rhythm. Was there anything more beautiful?
He opened his eyes to see Jesus approach the bed. He took her hand and said, “Child, arise.” Miraculously she did exactly that. She stood next to Jesus with her bed clothes hanging from emaciated shoulders. Jairus heard his wife gasp. His vision blurred with tears and he felt his wife pull away, moving toward their child.
Jairus, however, covered his face with his hands. His shoulders clenched under the weight of the guilt and fear he had been carrying. Why did he wait so long to find Jesus? He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. He raised his head and looked into Jesus’ eyes. He must have expected judgment from the teacher because the love he saw instead caught him by surprise. Once again a hand on his shoulder signified a transfer of burden. This time heaviness lifted, and peace moved up through his body like it might raise his feet off the floor.
Jesus guided him to join his wife and daughter’s celebration in progress. Before he left he gave them two instructions; Give her something to eat, and tell no one what had happened. The first oddly obvious and the second oddly impossible. They would just have to stick to the truth. She was only sleeping.
