Introduction

This morning we’ll be continuing our preaching series through a part of the Bible called Mark, which gives us a historical account of Jesus Christ’s life and work. And from the beginning of this series, we’ve seen that the main point that’s being made – the main reason why this part of the Bible has been given is to prove who Jesus was – who Jesus is. Jesus wasn’t just a philosopher or a good moral teacher. But the eyewitness testimony that’s recorded here is intended to show us that Jesus is uniquely the divine force who designed the universe, and who daily directs its operations. Jesus is the Son of God, who descended into our earthly existence, so that we could be raised up into his sacred presence. (Obviously a reason for hopeless people to have hope!)

Early on in this series, we saw examples of Jesus demonstrating his mercy and might, by healing the sick and driving unclean spirits out of those who were afflicted. But in the last few weeks – in this section of Mark – we’ve seen Jesus’s authority displayed even more forcefully. A couple weeks ago, we saw how Jesus calmed a fierce, life-threatening windstorm on the sea, simply by giving a verbal command. And last week we saw that Jesus drove an army of demons out of a hopeless man – literally thousands of demons were banished – again – simply by Jesus speaking. And in our text this morning, Jesus again proves the limitlessness of his authority, in order to promote the confidence and trust of his people.

So if you haven’t already, please turn with me to Mark, Chapter 5. If you’re using one of our church Bibles, you can find our text on page 789. I’ll be reading from Mark, Chapter 5, starting at verse 21. But before I read our text, please pray with me:

[Pray and Read Text]

Unclean and Unwanted?

Last summer – quite unexpectedly, in the middle of the summer – a couple of our kids came down with mild fevers. It seemed strange that they would get sick in the summer. But when they started to develop some sores on their hands, and legs, and on their face, it made sense. We figured out that our children had come down with a common, highly-contagious sickness called hand-foot-mouth. (Or, as one of our kids renamed it – hand-foot-toe. I think he might have mixed it up with head, shoulders, knees and toes). But in any case, it was a rather uncomfortable couple weeks for us. Because I wanted to care for my kids – and yet at the same time, because they were covered in sores, capable of passing this highly-contagious disease along to me – I didn’t want to touch them. Because I figured if I did, I’d get contaminated. The sickness would rub off on me, and then I’d be stuck in the same situation as them.

And I think that this is the same sort of impulse that many of us have, when we encounter things that are dirty or decayed somehow. When we see the lemon in the back of the refrigerator that used to be hard and yellow – but now it’s fuzzy and green – we don’t want to touch it. When the baby has a dirty diaper, there’s a pretty strong temptation to deliver the baby to your spouse, so that you don’t have to deal with the mess.

And this type of reaction is something that the Jews living in Jesus’s day would have been familiar with, as well. The Jews had categories for what it meant for things to be clean or unclean based on laws that God had given in the Old Testament. And based on these laws, people who were non-Jewish were considered to be unclean. So the man we read about last week, who was set free from demon possession – the Jews would have considered him to be defiled. People who had abnormal bleeding or discharges, like the woman here in our text were also unclean, according to the law. And dead bodies were also a source of uncleanness.

And so from a classic Jewish perspective, these types of people were like fuzzy green lemons. These are the types of people you stayed away from – the types of situations you tried to avoid. But here in Mark 5, we see that Jesus’s perspective is different. Jesus isn’t afraid of getting close to these people. He isn’t afraid that these dirty people might touch him, and that their dirtiness might rub off on him. Instead, Jesus shows his unique power and authority here – he draws near to these people, he steps into the hopelessness and messiness of their situations. But when he does, it isn’t their pollution that rubs off on him. But Jesus’s power and peace leaves a lasting impact on them.

And this morning – you’re getting a two-for-one special. There are two hopeless situations that Jesus intervenes in – two instances of human weakness where Jesus proves his worthiness to be trusted. And as we work through the text, I’ll break it down under three key ideas. First, hopeless situations prove our human limitations. Second, hopeless situations reveal Christ’s power to heal. And then third and finally, worsening situations call for renewed faith.

Hopeless Situations Prove Our Human Limitations

So let’s consider the first key idea from our text, here – hopeless situations prove our human limitations. In verse 21, we’re told that Jesus once again crossed the Sea of Galilee. And when he landed, he was almost instantly surrounded again by crowds. By this time, Jesus had gained quite a reputation among the Jews. And so even in rather remote places outside of town, like this spot along the shore, the word would get out, and crowds would start to gather. They wanted to hear his teaching. Or, in other cases, people had heard about his ability to perform signs and miracles – and so they’d come to see.

Well, in verse 22, we’re told that there was a ruler of a local synagogue named Jairus who comes out of town to find Jesus. And this is the first hopeless situation that’s brought to Jesus, here in our text. Jairus falls at Jesus’s feet, and implores him earnestly, “My little daughter – she’s at the point of death.” Jesus, there’s no time to lose. She’s gasping for breath. We’ve done everything we can. Please, “come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.”

Now, I think that many of us know what it’s like to be around a sick child, when they’re feverish – their small body is just lying there, limp. Their eyes are half open, and there’s a dullness to them – they seem to have little or no awareness of what’s going on around them. Their breathing may be irregular and raspy. And if you’ve been in that situation, you’ve perhaps started to wonder – is this child going to pull through?

But even though we might know what it’s like to have some uncertainties like this, Jairus’s situation with his daughter isn’t just operating in the realm of uncertainty. Death isn’t just a remote possibility for this girl. Things are at the point where death seems inevitable. You can hear that in Jairus’s own words. “My little daughter is at the point of death” – right at the brink. And yet there’s still time. And so Jairus begs, he implores Jesus, please come!

Keep in mind, here, Jairus was a man of resources and influence. He held one of the highest positions of influence and authority that existed among the Jews. He was a ruler of the local synagogue, where the Jews met to worship. And even though many of the people Jesus serves are left unnamed here in Mark, Jairus’s name is included in the text. It underscores that he had name recognition. He was a man of authority and influence and reputation. And he almost definitely had a fair amount of wealth behind his name, too. And yet, despite all of his earthly advantages – despite his career success, despite his money, despite his good reputation and his position of spiritual leadership – none of these advantages were able to save his daughter.

And when we’re faced with hopeless situations, along similar lines, what does it do? It reminds us how limited our abilities and advantages are. It reminds us that the big bank accounts, and the job status, and the insider connections – they can’t give us a secure future. They aren’t able to give us control over the direction of our lives. They can’t save from death.

There’s a strange mercy that God shows to people when he allows tragic things to happen in their lives. Because it’s a wake-up call. It’s a reminder that all isn’t right in the world. It shakes us, so that we would ask the question, “What am I relying on? What am I living for? Where is my life headed?” And as Jairus’s life is shaken – it brings him right where he needs to be. It brings him to his knees before Jesus.

And as soon as Jesus hears Jairus’s request, verse 24 tells us that Jesus went with him. And as it turns out, the crowd did, too. As Jesus travels with Jairus toward town, if anything, it seems like the crowd gets bigger – or at least, the crowd squeezes onto the road around him, and bodies are pressed against each other – almost as though if you picked up your legs, you’d continue being pushed or carried along by the sea of people. Our text says that “a great crowd followed him and thronged about him.”

But then – almost unexpectedly – we’re introduced to a second person. A woman, who has a bleeding disorder. This second story about the woman is inserted here into the middle of this story about Jairus’s daughter. And this sort of thing happens on many occasions in the book of Mark, where there’s one story that sandwiches another story inside it. And as we’ll see today, the story in the middle helps us to better understand the point of the bigger story that’s happening around it.

So consider this woman, who’s mentioned in verse 25. Again, we see that this is another hopeless situation. Because we’re told that this woman has had a chronic problem – a discharge of blood – that’s been continuing for twelve years. It’s crazy to think about that span of time. It’s longer than Taylor and I have been married. For twelve years, she had been going from doctor to doctor, waiting for appointments, looking for answers, trying any and every treatment option that she could find. And yet verse 26 tells us that she had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better, but rather grew worse.”

I’ll note briefly, here. This part of Scripture isn’t dismissing or discrediting the value of seeking medical treatment from doctors. As Christians, we recognize that God has established order in the world that makes it possible for scientists and doctors to discover patterns and treatment options for disease. As an expression of our faith in God, and our appreciation for God’s work as Creator, Christians do well when they prayerfully seek out medical council for their diseases. But the point that comes up here in the text is that there are some conditions – some circumstances – that are beyond the ability of medicine to fix. The fact that this woman tried to find help from the 1^st century equivalent of the U of M Hospital system, and Mayo Clinic, and Cleveland Clinic – the fact that she tried everything, and she got worse instead of better – it just underscores the hopelessness of her situation. If wealthy, well-connected Jairus was in a hopeless situation, in spite of his social advantages, this unnamed woman’s lack of social advantages made her situation even more desperate.

And so it’s no wonder that when her disease is mentioned in the text – the normal word for disease isn’t used. Instead, it’s a stronger word – used to describe the lash from a whip. Essentially, this disease has been like a flailing whip against her back – a scourging. She’s being painfully afflicted day after day – not just physically, but socially and psychologically. She’s been beaten down by this disease and by despair. For twelve years, there’s been a growing sense of hopelessness – because no one has been able to help her.

Hopeless Situations Reveal Christ’s Power to Heal

And yet the text shows us, for this woman – is that this hopeless situation actually isn’t unfixable. Instead, the events that unfold here demonstrate how hopeless situations reveal Christ’s power to heal. This is my second main point from our text.

Because in verse 27, we’re told that this woman – “She had heard the reports about Jesus.” She had heard that his man was able to do things that the modern doctors of her day were unable to do. Jesus had healed a man with leprosy, he brought immediate recovery to a paraplegic, he restored a man’s hand that had been deformed and disabled. The woman must have heard dozens of stories like this. And after hearing it all, she reached the conclusion – if Jesus can restore other people like that, certainly he can restore me!

And so, in the second half of verse 27, she pushes her way through the crowd. And she decides in her mind – I don’t even need to talk to Jesus. I don’t need his attention. I just need to touch the corner of his clothes. That’ll be enough for me to be made well.” And so as Jesus is passing through this dense crowd, with all the elbows bumping, and the hands brushing against him – this woman manages to reach out, and she touches his garment. She doesn’t even make contact with his skin. She just touches his clothes.

And what happens? Verse 29: “And immediately, the flow of blood dried up. And she felt in her body that she had been healed of her disease” – the pain was gone. She could feel a physical change. It ended up that her confidence wasn’t misplaced. She got what was she was looking for – she was healed. And yet – later on in the text, she gets even more than she was looking for.

Because in verse 30, Jesus does something surprising. As soon as this woman touches his garment, he stops. He’s able to recognize in himself, supernaturally that this woman has been healed through making contact with his clothes. And so he brings the whole procession to a halt. And he calls out into the crowd, “Who touched my garments?”

Now from the perspective of everyone else, this seemed like a ridiculous thing to ask. His own disciples even try to push back on his question. They say, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, “Who touched me?’” Jesus, hundreds of people have been touching you, brushing against you. Why are just now seeming to realize that?

But of course, Jesus knows why he’s asking the question. He wants the person who’s just been healed to come forward – to be identified. Now, the woman – she knows what happened. She knows that Jesus’s words are for her. And even though there’s a strong temptation for her to hide, the text tells us that she came before Jesus with fear and trembling. (You’ll see that in verse 33), and “she fell down before him, and told him the whole truth.”

It makes sense that this woman would be nervous about this. After all, because of her bleeding condition, she was ceremonially unclean. And by touching other people, ordinarily that would be a way of defiling them. And in addition to that, Jesus here was on a special mission to help the ruler of the synagogue. By interrupting everything, there was probably a concern that Jesus would be pretty annoyed and antagonistic toward her.

And yet the woman’s fears end up being utterly unfounded. As it turns out, Jesus’s reason for stopping the procession, and calling this woman out – it’s not because he wants to publicly shame her. But instead, he stops and calls, because he wants to personally connect with her. The woman wasn’t expecting this. She just came for the free healthcare. And honestly, I think that many people are like this – when a problem comes up, we might reach out for Jesus in prayer, just to get some sort of quick fix – some free help. But Jesus knows that we need more than that. We need him. We don’t just need a solution. We need the Savior.

In fact, this seems to be one of the major points in this story. Because in verse 34, when Jesus affectionately responds, he says, “Daughter, your faith has made you well, go in peace and be healed of your disease.” And behind that phrase “your faith has made you well,” is the Greek word that’s usually translated to refer to salvation. Jesus is saying, “Your faith has saved you” – saved you from your disease, yes. But faith in the Savior – faith in Jesus – is what saves us from evil, from sin, death, and Hell. Without Jesus, there is no lasting wellness. But through faith in Jesus, you, and I, and anyone else who believes has a future of wellness which is infinite and eternal.

Jesus doesn’t just want to give people a one-time transaction, of miraculous healings. But Jesus wants to give people himself, personally, savingly.

Worsening Situations Call for Renewed Faith

And so there’s a moment of triumph, with this woman being miraculously healed from her disease. And yet the amazement and enthusiasm is short-lived – because immediately after this – messengers run into the crowd from Jairus’s house with devastating news. Verse 35: “While [Jesus] was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?”

The situation with Jairus’s daughter had already seemed rather hopeless before. But now it’s worse – it’s about as bad as it can get. This little one – this child Jairus loved – she’s dead. Jesus didn’t come soon enough. Maybe if it weren’t for that woman in the crowd – maybe if Jairus had come to get Jesus ten minutes earlier – maybe everything would have turned out different. I think we can imagine the types of thoughts that would have started to flood in Jairus’s mind.

But before these thoughts can invade his thinking, and propel him toward despair, Jesus overhears what these messengers are saying. And in verse 36, even though the situation has gone from bad to worse, he speaks to Jairus, and says, “Do not fear; only believe.” And this brings me to my third and final point from the text here – that worsening situations call for renewed faith.

Now, in this story – Jesus is right there, physically, to remind Jairus to keep believing. But for many of us, as Christians, when we’ve started to bring our problems to Jesus, but the problem just seems to get bigger, and the pain just seems to get worse ­– we may not have someone there in the moment, to speak audibly, to encourage our faith. Often in those moments, the temptation for us is to think, “Okay – I tried Jesus. I didn’t see results. So I must need something more. I must need something else.” We’re tempted to lose confidence in the Lord.

But when you’re in the dark valley, and it’s as black as midnight, and you struggle to see how there could be any light ahead – let these words from Jesus speak to you: “Do not fear; only believe.” Because these are the two options we have. Fear or faith. This has been a theme in this section of Mark. Remember, after Jesus calmed the storm, he challenged his disciples by asking, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” You can’t do both. You have to chose one. Either you’ll be overwhelmed by the bigness of your problems and you’ll fear, or you’ll be overwhelmed by the bigness of Jesus, and you’ll believe.

And when our big problems get even bigger – the temptation is for us to lose sight of Jesus’s divine power and goodness, and to imagine that our growing troubles have now gotten bigger than (what) Jesus can handle. That’s the temptation. But when Jairus’s hopeless situation gets even worse – Jesus isn’t fazed by it. He doesn’t snap his fingers and say, “Too bad! I guess we missed our chance!”

Instead, it would seem that Jesus is actually reminding Jairus – “Remember that woman who was just here? The one who was explaining how hopeless her situation was? The one who exhausted every possible human resource, and nothing helped? Jairus, I saved her.” That’s behind what Jesus is saying here. “I can save people from hopeless situations. Do not fear, only believe.”

And so Jairus presses on in faith – he continues along with Jesus, and they reach Jairus’s house in verse 38. There’s a huge commotion there. And that’s because in those days, when someone passed away, one of the social expectations is that you would hire people to come to your house to grieve. Even poor people were expected to hire at least a couple professional mourners. And of course, since Jairus is wealthy, and is one of the most respected men in town – Jairus’s servants had apparently called in a significant crowd of these professional mourners to pay their respects regarding his daughter’s death. And so Jesus comes into this gathering of people weeping and wailing, and he begins to question them in verse 39, “Why are you making a commotion, and weeping? The child is not dead, but sleeping.”

Now, the mourners – they’d been around dead bodies before. They knew what death was when they saw it. And it makes sense how they responded. They laughed at him. They were thoroughly convinced, “Jesus, what you’re saying is absurd.” She’s not sleeping! She’s gone. She’s dead! It’s over.

And even today, that’s all the world knows. Many people stubbornly hold on to the assumption that death is the end. And when Christians insist, that through Jesus, there’s reason for confidence that the dead will be raised – the world laughs. It sounds like nonsense to them.

But Jesus sends the hecklers and the doubters away. He even limits the number of his own disciples who can go with him into the house. He takes Peter, James, and John. And together, these three go into the room where the young girl – twelve years old – is lying dead in her bed. (It’s interesting, isn’t it – twelve years is the same length of time that the afflicted woman had had her bleeding disorder). And Jesus does something unexpected – he reaches out and he touches this dead girl. He takes her by the hand.

Keep in mind, for the Jews, touching a dead body made them unclean. Ordinarily, the defilement from the dead body was transferred to them. If Jesus were an ordinary Jewish man, this would be a no-no. You don’t reach out and touch the fuzzy green lemon in the back of the refrigerator with bare hands.

But you see, Jesus isn’t just an ordinary man. And when he takes hold of this dead girl’s hand, it isn’t her pollution that passes to him – but it’s his power that passes to her. And as he says, “Little girl, say to you, arise” at once, she gets up. She begins walking around. She isn’t just restored from dead to sick. But she’s restored from deadness to new, fresh, vibrant life.

And the parents and disciples who were once so hopeless – they respond the way you’d expect them to. They’re amazed – in the Greek, it basically says that they were extra-double-super-totally amazed – the sort of amazement where you’re kind of wondering, “Am I actually awake? What did I eat for dinner last night?”

Even though, as Christians, we have an inkling to believe that Jesus is powerful, I think that many of us struggle to actually believe that Jesus raises the dead. (It seems a bit hopeless, doesn’t it?) Now, part of this might be because we don’t see it happening today – we don’t see the same abundance of miracles that Jesus did in his earthly ministry.

But there’s a good reason for this. Historically, the miracles were performed by Jesus and his apostles to confirm the authenticity of the Christian message. It was a special time of history, introducing the climax of God’s work to save the ruined human race. But ordinarily – including today, Jesus is pleased to mostly do his work through the natural order of what he’s made – especially through his people, through his Church – instead of doing things against the natural order of what he created. And so the absence of miracles doesn’t mean that Jesus is any less active. Instead the activity of the Church in the world is special evidence of the ongoing work of Jesus. And even though physical resurrection from the dead has been scheduled for a later date – even though that’s not a trend in the world today – Jesus is at work to raise people out of spiritual deadness, to give them eyes to see his truthfulness, and hearts to love and understand his message.

And as Christians today – we need to ponder events like this – the raising of Jairus’s daughter from the dead – and we need to be convinced that Jesus really has this power. His power to save touches human beings both spiritually and physically. And when Jesus appears again, we – like Jairus and the disciples – we’ll be faced with the extra-double-super-totally amazing reality of resurrection from the dead, just like they were. Except that resurrection will come with even greater power and permanence and glory. And everyone will see that Jesus is bigger than our problems. He’s bigger than our hopeless situations. He’s bigger even than death.

Here in our text, the people who see this miracle are told to keep this a secret. Jesus strictly charges them to tell no one what they saw. And that’s because, in this context, Jesus wants to make sure that his identity is revealed at the right time, in the right way, to the right people. But now the charge Jesus gives to his people is different. When you and I are delivered from death and despair by his mercy – when you and I are touched by him and restored in the midst of our uncleanness – the command is no longer to be silent. Instead, Jesus sends us out to be heralds, to declare what we’ve seen and experienced. Jesus sends us into each other’s lives, and into the lives of other (nearly) hopeless people, to encourage each other: “Do not fear; only believe.”

For those who trust in Christ, death is not the end. Despair will not win. Your defilement won’t be too big for Jesus to handle. All you need is a touch from Jesus. He can take you by the hand, and he can raise you up. And if he can do this for you, he can do this for others. There’s hope for the hopeless. I hope you live in this confidence this week. Let’s pray: