God's Love for His Fragile Daughters
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
October 1, 2017
This morning we turn again to Luke 8. In this chapter there is a block of four stories, two Jason covered last week and two I’ll cover this week. In the first story, the events prompt the people who saw the extraordinary power of Jesus to say of Jesus, “Who is this?” (v. 25). In just a few weeks, we’ll get to a place in Chapter 9 of Luke where Jesus will turn to these same men and ask something similar: “Who do you say that I am?” (v. 20).Between these two questions—“Who is this?” and “Who do you say that I am?”—in event after event Jesus displays his power so that when the disciples are asked what we think of Jesus, we have a context to give the right answer. These stories are to give certainty to our belief that Jesus is the son of God, one who has power over disasters, demons, disease, and death.
Scripture Reading
If you have a Bible, please turn with me to Luke 8:40–56. If you are using the brown Bible’s on the end of the row, it’s on page 984. After I read, we’ll pray and then study this together.40 Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. 41 And there came a man named Jairus, who was a ruler of the synagogue. And falling at Jesus’ feet, he implored him to come to his house, 42 for he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying. As Jesus went, the people pressed around him. 43 And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone. 44 She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased. 45 And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!” 46 But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.” 47 And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. 48 And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” 49 While he was still speaking, someone from the ruler’s house came and said, “Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the Teacher any more.” 50 But Jesus on hearing this answered him, “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well.” 51 And when he came to the house, he allowed no one to enter with him, except Peter and John and James, and the father and mother of the child. 52 And all were weeping and mourning for her, but he said, “Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping.” 53 And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. 54 But taking her by the hand he called, saying, “Child, arise.” 55 And her spirit returned, and she got up at once. And he directed that something should be given her to eat. 56 And her parents were amazed, but he charged them to tell no one what had happened.
Introduction
In the previous passage, there was a storm so fierce that it made professional fishermen think they were about to die. And yet in a similar way that a police officer might move into a lane of gently oncoming traffic with his hand raised and palm outward, Jesus stood up in the boat, looked at the wind and the waves and the thunder and the lightening, and told the storm to hit the brakes. And it did.After the storm, when they had sailed to the other side of the lake, they are greeted by a demon-possessed man who was so dangerous that the local community had to keep this man under guard, and even then, he would often snap his metal chains as though they were construction paper, and then go howling in the desert at night. Luke records that the man wore no clothes and lived in a graveyard. And yet with no incantations, no elaborate exorcism, the man is healed. In fact, the demons have to ask Jesus for permission to run away instead of immediate destruction.The picture of Jesus that emerges from these stories is one of a lion who has not declawed.But in the two stories we’re focusing on this morning, we see that he’s a lion with a soft side. He has a special compassion for the fragile and the desperate. He has a special compassion for his daughters.I have three daughters. When my oldest daughter was a newborn, we took a picture where I was holding her in my hand as she laid along my forearm. She’s now 5’2”, which places her in the 97th percentile in height for her age. She sat on my lap the other day, and I asked if she wanted to try to lay on my forearm like in that picture. It wasn’t going to happen, was it? She’s growing up, which changes things. But some things, like a father’s love for his daughters, don’t change; they grow too.Several times a year I stand in the front of a room like this one—sometimes this room exactly—and the backdoors open, those in attendance stand up, and a woman wearing white walks down the aisle hanging on the arm of her father. After they come to a stop in front of me, before we do anything else in that ceremony, I say,
Children grow up under the care of their parents. It is the parent’s responsibility to love and to care and to provide and to instruct and to discipline their children. But more than children generally growing up under the care of their parents, particularly a young daughter grows up under the care of her father until the day she is given away in marriage.
Then I ask, “Who is it that gives this young woman away?” The father says, “Her mother and I.”What I’ll tell you is that the fathers who keep giving away their daughters seem to keep getting younger and younger. Or more accurately, I keep getting older and older, which is making those fathers start to look a lot more like me.Whether you are a daughter or not, to anyone who has felt fragile, this passage should be an encouragement. For anyone who has had a fearsome interruption to their life—health scare, financial scare, relationship scare, employment scare—then you know that these fearsome interruptions can cause us to doubt the ability and the goodness of God. But so often, it is these fearsome interruptions in life that become the place God so often is pleased to reveal himself to us in greater ways, the place we go deeper into the goodness of the gospel. That’s what we see in these stories.
1. The First Daughter, Part 1, vv. 40–42a
The story begins in v. 40. Let me reread the first few verses.
40 Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. 41 And there came a man named Jairus, who was a ruler of the synagogue. And falling at Jesus’ feet, he implored him to come to his house, 42 for he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying.
When Jesus had left on the boat to go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, he sailed to a largely Gentile area, that is, an area where his popularity was not as high. But with the start of v. 40, he is returning to the largely Jewish side of the Sea of Galilee, the side where he has been met with a mostly favorable reception, certainly from the masses.Among the crowd that’s waiting for Jesus, is a father named Jairus. Jairus, we learn, leads the local synagogue. Now, while Jesus has become popular with the crowds, by and large, he hasn’t gained a significant following with religious leaders. In fact, the religious leaders tend to see Jesus as a threat, a trend that will become only more pronounced. So, I can only presume for Jairus to come to Jesus there must have been great humility, desperation, and trust for him to risk scorn from his religious peers.We should note, though, that seeing something compelling in Jesus and then reaching out to Jesus in a personal and public way, is something that normally exists in the midst of cynicism and persecution. Years after this event, Peter would write a letter to encourage Christians to consider their “fiery trial” of public shaming and physical persecution as normal, not something strange (1 Peter 4:12). Here, the faith that Jairus has in Jesus, perhaps only in seed form, causes him to risk the shame. His love for his only daughter and his fragile belief in Jesus compels him forward. She’s his only daughter. He once held her along his forearm. She’s only twelve, but he wants to walk her down the aisle. But his story is interrupted.
2. The Second Daughter, vv. 42b–48
Let’s keep reading.
As Jesus went, the people pressed around him. 43 And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone. 44 She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased. 45 And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!” 46 But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.”
If you’ve ever been late for something, you know the frustration of rounding a street corner only to see traffic stopped. Now imagine Jairus. He’s in the ambulance, but time is short, and now there is gridlock. Luke describes the crowd as pressing in and surrounding Jesus (vv. 42, 45). You get the impression it’s almost unsafe.Then, there is another interruption. Jesus has stopped for a woman with a bleeding problem, which we don’t know exactly what it was, but likely it was a gynecological issue.Note the phrase in v. 43, “though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone.” We know from another place in the Bible (Col. 4:14) that Luke was formerly a physician, so the detail that this woman had seen physicians (plural!), and yet not been healed by anyone (singular!) would not have been lost on him. Lots of doctors but no one who could heal. This detail isn’t lost on me.And twelve years it’s been this way. All the time the young daughter was growing up, this woman was sick. We don’t know if she was married, but if is she was, think of the interruption. If she was not married, think of her isolation. According to Old Testament practice, she would have been ceremonially unclean, and thus excluded from regular gatherings with God’s people. She would have longed to attend church with us, something we can treat so cheaply.Now, what do we make of this question Jesus asks? He wants to know who touched him. To which Peter essentially says, “Are you kidding me? We’re all touching you.” Yet Jesus isn’t asking the question to learn something. He’s asking for the sake of others. He’s giving the woman a chance to come be singled out. To be clear, this is not at all what she wants. Far from it. Look at vv. 47–48.
47 And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. 48 And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”
In the anonymity of the crowd, she could sneak up close enough to Jesus to touch him. And when she does, she’s healed. The healing comes to her, however, not by touching but through her faith.Jesus often healed without the people touching him or he touching them. The point—and Jesus makes explicit in v. 48—is her faith. In these stories faith—or lack thereof—is the central issue. Faith is seeing power in Jesus to save, and then coming to him despite the potential social costs because you believe he’s worth it. Faith is being willing to be identified for who you are—a broken person who needs healing. And faith is then being sent out in peace.To be clear, she didn’t want to tell her story. She was trembling as she came forward. She wanted to make an anonymous touch and receive an anonymous healing. Her last twelve years had been anonymous. But no more. Jesus had something better for her, and for all the people. She needed to tell her story, and they needed to hear it so she could be reconciled to the community.Did you notice what Jesus calls her? He calls her, “Daughter.” It’s the only place in the Bible Jesus does this. With trembling now gone, and no longer anonymous but reunited to the believing family of God, she goes away in God’s peace.
3. The First Daughter, Part 2, vv. 49–56
The story continues. In vv. 49–56 we come back to Jairus.
49 While he was still speaking, someone from the ruler’s house came and said, “Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the Teacher any more.” 50 But Jesus on hearing this answered him, “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well.” 51 And when he came to the house, he allowed no one to enter with him, except Peter and John and James, and the father and mother of the child. 52 And all were weeping and mourning for her, but he said, “Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping.” 53 And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. 54 But taking her by the hand he called, saying, “Child, arise.” 55 And her spirit returned, and she got up at once. And he directed that something should be given her to eat. 56 And her parents were amazed, but he charged them to tell no one what had happened.
These stories are an emotional roller coaster: corkscrews and loop de loops. For a moment, perhaps while caught up in this woman’s story, Jairus forgot his own plight, that is until he’s so rudely and callously and heartlessly interrupted by a messenger. You can hear the skepticism drip in the messenger’s words, can’t you? “She’s dead; don’t worry about bothering this teacher guy anymore.” As the news sinks in Jairus realizes he wasn’t there to hold her hand as she passed. He wasn’t there to let his wife cry on his shoulder.Hearing the messenger, Jesus shoots Jairus a glance and says, “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well” (v. 50; cf. Mark 5:36).You’ve heard about how sometimes it can be difficult to get certain concert tickets or to get tickets to the super bowl, well, Jesus takes five people in the room—three disciples and Dad and Mom. They get a box seat view of Jesus taking the daughters hand and telling her, “Child, arise.” This is what you and I might say to her to wake her up from a nap. Jesus says it to wake her from death.
Conclusion
Just two things to mention before we close. First, let me say something about interruptions in life. No one wants them, which is why they are called interruptions. And by interruptions, I don’t merely mean a traffic accident on north I-83 that extends your commute by 15 minutes. I mean fearsome interruptions. In last week’s passage, the disciples didn’t want the storm. The local residents didn’t want a crazy man roaming around the hills. The pig farmers didn’t want the loss of income. Fearsome interruptions.In this passage, the father didn’t want his daughter, his only daughter, to be dying. And when he goes for help, he didn’t want help to be interrupted by someone who, although experiencing significant suffering, her suffering was not nearly so urgent has his daughter’s. And then he didn’t want the interruption from someone saying, rather coldly, “Just forget bothering the teacher; she’s already dead.”And the woman didn’t want twelve years—twelve years!—of suffering. Twelve years of income diverted from her “livelihood” toward failed attempts to be healed. You can’t get that money and that time back.You wouldn’t want these interruptions. And you don’t want your interruptions that you do have now and will have in the future. Yet interruptions are the moments when God is so often pleased to display his power to us. These interruptions are when he exalts himself to show us his power and mercy and grace and love. We don’t want interruptions, but in a fallen world we’ll experience them. And when we do, go to Jesus.Now the final comment. While Jesus considers his miracles important, they are not his primary mission. His primary mission is to work the larger miracle of restoring people back to God, and that will involve his suffering and death. Said differently, the miracles are not the heart of what Jesus is doing, but they are what point to the heart of what he is doing, namely, going to the cross.Where do I seen this focus in the text? Did you notice he tells those who witnessed the healing of the young daughter not to tell anyone about it? Now, I don’t think this can be a literal “tell no one.” They will have to tell those who are already at the house. But what Jesus means is that they were not to go around spreading the news of his miracle-power from the mountaintops. Why would he not want them to do this? Because he won’t be able to keep the people under control. If the masses are in hysteria over his miracle-power, then it will only further complicate his central mission, the mission to be the suffering Messiah.So what does that mean for us? Well, even though the cross and resurrection have happened, we still need to hear a word of caution related to the way in which we go about speak of Jesus. We still need to be careful that when we talk about Jesus, we make it clear that it’s his miracles that point to the heart of his ministry; his miracles point to the cross. If we don’t, we will lead people astray and confuse them. And when they don’t experience a miracle from their interruptions in this life, they will be disillusioned.When Jesus says the daughter is “not dead but sleeping,” he’s us giving God’s perspective. From God’s perspective, there is a death after death, and that spiritual death is the real death. But that spiritual death forever in hell will never touch his children because the deeper mission of Jesus has swallowed up that second death so that even when we die in this life, it can be said of us that we’re only sleeping.Everyone in these four stories—one day—had an interruption that didn’t get a miracle. But for those who had faith in Jesus, they didn’t die. They only, as it were, fell asleep. And everyone here—one day—will die, but for those of us who have faith in Christ, we will not experience the second death, because one fine day Jesus will take our hands, and we’ll hear his voice say, “Arise, my child. I have power over natural disasters, power over demons, and over disease, and over death, and over the final death as well. Let me wipe ever tear from your eyes. You are mine. And I love you.” Until that day, let us pray that God would give us faith to trust him in our interruptions and to speak about him rightly to others.
