Lamentations
3:22-33: Mark 5:21-43
Day
after day, Jesus goes out into different parts of the Galilee to reach people
with his message of God’s love and a healing touch. This day is no different.
He is back home in Capernaum, near the sea with a crowd gathered as usual.
Jairus,
one of the leaders of the synagogue – an important man in town – hurries up and
asks Jesus to come quickly. His twelve-year-old daughter is very ill. It looks
like she may die, and he begs, as an important man never wants to be seen
doing. He gets down in the dirt, lays himself flat, and begs Jesus to heal his
daughter. Jairus is desperate.
Jesus
sets off at once to Jairus’ house. As they make their way, a crowd follows
along. In the crowd is a woman who has been bleeding for twelve years. She may
have been wealthy at one time, but now, she has nothing. The doctors have not
been able to cure her, but they have accepted her money just the same. All this
time, she has been ritually unclean – unwelcome in most homes, and avoided by
people so she doesn’t contaminate them with her uncleanness. She has been
bleeding and isolated for twelve years and she is sick and tired of it. She is desperate.
As she
and the crowd travel with Jairus and Jesus to take care of the sick girl, the
woman sees her chance. If I can just touch his clothes, she thinks, I will be
healed. He doesn’t have to talk to me, or touch me, or anything. I just want to
touch his clothes. She is so filled with nervous energy, she is trembling. And suddenly,
she is close enough to touch the hem of his tunic; she reaches out, and she
feels it: healing energy.
Jesus
can sense the healing energy leaving him, even though the woman touched just his
clothing. How did he know, with all those other people around him?! And yet he
did, and he stopped everything to talk with this woman and assure her that she
is healed and blessed. He calls her “daughter”! He has shown her compassion.
As they
resume their journey to Jairus’ house, messengers arrive with the news that the
girl has died. There is no reason to continue. But they go on anyway. When they
get to the house, there is weeping and wailing outside the house. Jesus assures
the crowd that the girl is only sleeping. Then he takes only the three lead
disciples plus Jairus and Mrs Jairus in with him.
He
speaks to the child, saying, “Child, get up.” And she sits up. Can we imagine
her looking around the room and realizing that she has been healed from deep illness?
Jesus tells her parents to get her something to eat, proving she is really alive
and well. Then he tells the disciples and the parents to say nothing about what
they just saw. But, of course, what happened was too amazing to be kept secret
for long.
I
started thinking about these texts as a set of interruptions – On the way to
heal a child, a woman touches Jesus, and he stops to talk with her and bless
her. In just the same way, our lives are often a series of interruptions.
But the
political conversation, the constant barrage of messages from the right and the
left, made me think about this differently. I rarely post personal status
reports on Facebook – like, I am really enjoying lunch at a restaurant, or I found
these cute clothes at the store. And I don’t let the crooks of the world know
when I am away by posting vacation photos.
But I do
like to share important sayings and photos. This past week, my brother Dave and
my son Dan disagreed with something I shared. We were discussing the question of
immigration.
It’s a
hot topic, with people of faith taking stands everywhere on a spectrum from far
right to far left. I am sure we have people all along the spectrum here this
morning. It is clear we need Congress to make significant improvements to the
current law. What is not clear is what changes to make and how to implement
them. I recognize and understand more every day that the issue is extremely
complex and there are no easy answers, no matter where we are along the right-to-left
spectrum.
Today’s
Gospel tells stories about people in desperate need. I see a connection in
the text to the desperate need for relief expressed by those seeking to enter
the US from Central America.
And the
stories tell of the compassion offered by Jesus. I see a connection to a
need for compassion expressed in the public outrage at the way the immigrants
have been treated recently. And in the compassion offered by church groups of
all sorts including Lutherans.
… The
people who risk everything to reach the relative safety of the US are
desperate. Their lives are at risk on a daily, if not hourly basis at home. The
gangs will not leave them alone. Women and girls are raped, boys are forced to
join the gang and do what the gang tells them to do. They are forced to watch
while their mothers and sisters are assaulted. They are desperate. When they decide to flee, the journey itself is frightful and dangerous. They are desperate enough to make the trip anyway.
While we
want to ensure they enter the country legally, they deserve compassionate
treatment, no matter how they enter. It is compassion that brings us to look at
immigrants with gentle eyes. It is compassion that drives millions of people to
object to the policy of separating children from their parents. It is
compassion that causes us to object to the deportation of lifelong residents
without documentation, leaving their families without financial and emotional
support.
… There
is frequent reference in the Old Testament to the compassion of God. In
English, the Hebrew word “hesed” is translated as steadfast love and mercy. In
the passage from Lamentations in today’s readings, we are reminded of God’s
desire to offer abundant compassion to all God’s people. When Jesus offers
compassion to desperate people, he expresses this same divine desire for
compassion.
When we follow
Jesus, we are called to be compassionate, even as we seek justice according to God’s
laws – the Ten Commandments – and according to the human laws we have created
and amended numerous times over the last 242 years – the Constitution. We may
not be able to change much about the laws Congress writes, but in our own
lives, we can always seek to be compassionate: in our prayers, in our thoughts
and comments about others, and in the ways we give to and touch the lives of
our neighbors. Amen
