“New hope. New being. New life.”

This is the manuscript from the sermon preached on the weekend of July 1.  The supporting scripture reading is Mark 5:21-43.

You could have cut the tension in the house with a knife.  Everyone was looking at Jesus.  He had just run the mourners turned comedy troupe out of the house for laughing at his suggestion that the little girl was only sleeping.  It seems that the weeping and mourning over the injustice of a little girl’s death was no match for the ridiculous notion that she could still be alive.  “Why do you make a commotion and weep?” Jesus said, “The child is not dead but sleeping?”  But how can that be?  

These people knew death all too well.  The grief of the mother and the father was real.  The pain at losing their child was real.  A future where she would no longer darken the door of that house had seemed so certain.  But this reality was deemed poppycock by Jesus and he is met with laughter.  He throws the would-be mourners out of the house and then reaches for the mother’s hand as he walks to the backroom. 

            The air is still and the house is on pins and needles.  The girl lies quite and tranquil as if she is only sleeping, but there is no hope in Jarius as Jesus reaches out for her hand.  Yes, there had been hope at the dock, when Jesus got off the boat.  There had been hope as the crowd pressed in and around them as Jarius fell at Jesus’ feet pleading, “My little girl is at the point of death.  Come and lay your hands on her so that she may be made well and live.”  There had been hope when Jesus agreed to come along and the long procession to the house started.  But that hope was killed hours ago by bad news in the market, “your daughter is dead.  Why trouble the teacher any further.”  

            But Jesus was not troubled by those words, “Do not fear, keep on believing,” he said to Jarius.  Jesus had not lost hope.  And so here he is in the backroom of the house of Jarius, Jesus has his hand outstretched and taking the hand of the little girl’s in his he says, “Talitha cum.”  Like a mother calling to her child in the sweetness of the early morning, “Talitha cum.”  Mark translates it for those of us who don’t speak Aramaic, “Little girl, I say to you, rise!” 

 And immediately she rises.  Just like Simon’s mother-in-law, who was dead back in chapter 1, she rises.  Just like Jesus, who was dead as a door nail in the tomb for three days until that first Easter morning, she rises.  Mark uses the same word to describe each one of these events, the Greek word ἐγείρω (hegero) which means to rise.  This is a word of resurrection that Marks uses in each instance.  Mark wants us to make this connection because this is a story of resurrection.  This is the power that resides in Jesus.  This is the power that took away the sting of death.  This is the power of the kingdom of God.  Jesus raises this girl to new life.         

And all in the room are amazed at what has just happened.  Just as the women are amazed at the empty tomb and the words of the young man, “He has been raised, he is not here.”  In the midst of all the commotion, Jesus, keeping his head about him calls for something to eat.  Surely the girl must be hungry. 

            I wonder if Jarius, even in his joy, had a moment of déjà vu.  After all, he had already seen this moment play out before him that very afternoon.  He was part of the crowd when the woman had reached out for Jesus.  He had been a witness to the whole scene.  He was not the only one who had been waiting for Jesus at that dock.      

            In the crowd there had been another who has been waiting, a woman who thought that it was finally her chance.  Mark gives her no name, only a sad story of twelve years of pain.  For twelve years she has been bleeding.  For twelve years she has been throwing money at doctors who always tell her they just don’t know what is wrong.  She has spent all that she has and she is no better, only worst.  For twelve long years she had been as good as dead to the community.  An outsider.  Unclean.  Unwelcomed.  As good as dead because no one seemed to care if she was alive and no one lifted a finger to help.  Perhaps she had been stealing away to the dock, hoping against hope that Jesus would come and now she seizes her moment.  “If I but touch his cloths I will be made well.”  

Out of the crowd she moves quickly and in a moment her waiting is over.  As she touches the cloak of Jesus she feels it in her body, she is finally healed, and from her escapes a sign of relief that has been waiting twelve long years.  But this moment is not hers alone, Jesus too senses that something had transpired.  He feels that power has left him, so in the middle of the crowd he stops.  “Who touched me?” 

Jarius looks murderous at the sudden halt.  The disciples scoff at Jesus’ thought that he could tell that someone touched him when so many were pressing upon him.  The woman’s sign of joy is immediately stifled by fear.  As Jesus is looking around, she could have made a break for it, but in fear and trembling she falls at his feet, telling him the whole truth. 

It’s a moment of true grace.  Jesus speaks words of healing to this woman.  “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”  It is another moment of resurrection.  “Daughter, your faith has made you whole.”  No longer is she unwelcomed or unclean.  No longer is she as good as dead, Jesus has raised her to new life.  She is a daughter.  Part of the family.  She has a place in God’s kingdom.  That’s the power of the one who was sent into the world, not to condemn, but to save.  Jesus brings new life.  Jesus chooses not to leave people to struggle under the conditions that steal their lives away.  He chooses to reach out and change them.  That’s the power of Jesus.  That’s the power of the kingdom of God.  That is the outcome of being resurrected.  New hope.  New being.  New life. 

Resurrection is still going on today dear friends, and it’s happening right before our eyes.  This week I had the chance to visit Learn to Fish Recovery program.  This is the program that we were introduced to a few weeks ago, a program for which we are collecting money and raising awareness.  You may have seen the bulletin board out in the narthex.  This program is all about resurrection.  It’s about giving people new life.  The goal of Learn to Fish is to protect the family unit and break the cycle of abuse and dysfunction that tears families apart.  Abuse steals life away.  Abuse renders people all but dead, only partially alive.  Through Learn to Fish, women are given a chance to live in a safe, structured environment where they are given the opportunity to heal.  A network of support is provided, skills sets are allowed to develop and grow, and transformation begins to take shape.  Resurrection happens as women are brought to new life.  “Do not fear, keep on believing,” as Jesus says.

Our lives too are filled with these moments of resurrection.  Over and over again during the course of our lives we find ourselves in need of being resurrected.  We may be broken physically, emotionally, spiritually, only partially alive, not able to celebrate the fullness of the life that we have been given.  But Jesus comes to us and says to us, “Rise!”  The power that is in Jesus Christ gives new life not only to those who have died but also to us who only partially live.  Through family and friends, Jesus says to us, “Rise.”  Through faith communities like this, Jesus says to us, “Rise.”  So “rise” dear people of God.  Hear those words as you come away from the table, “Rise my daughters, fed and forgiven!”  “Rise my sons, blessed and set free.”  Jesus empowers us to share in the fullness of his new life, in his resurrection, in his life changing love.  “Do not fear, keep on believing,” Jesus says to us all.