Jesus: The Healer of Human Hurts – Mark 5:21-43

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Jesus: The Healer of Human Hurts

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INTRODUCTION

In the past months at Trinity Church, we have spent much time in the Old Testament, and have found it very abundant in gospel riches. In Proverbs, we have seen in the manifold wisdom of God a portrait of One through whom and for whom the worlds were made, who would be sent down for our salvation and sanctification. In Isaiah, we learned that the God who from the beginning speaks the entire course of history into existence has spoken the promise of eternal redemption for his people in Immanuel, who would be born of the virgin. In Hosea was a portrait of the utterly faithful Bridegroom of an unworthy bride, whose resurrection power would vivify his people; and most recently, in Micah, we have discovered that God’s unchanging desire for mercy would one day spring forth from little Bethlehem-Ephratah. These, as all the other scriptures, are richly satisfying pastures, because they point the faithful reader to One whose origins are from of old and whose coming forth to his people wrought eternal salvation and unending glory to God. But this means that the only value the precious promises of the Old Testament have is encapsulated in the Gospels, which bring them all to fruition, accomplish all their promises, and make their coffers burst beyond any bounds that prophets and holy men of old could possibly have conceived of.

This means that, if we are to make good use of the treasures of the Old Testament, we must spend time in the Gospels. The story of Christ recorded therein is the key which unlocks every treasure chest of Moses and the Prophets. It is the capstone of revelation that binds and makes sense of the whole; and without it, not only would the deepest and most precious of the sacred treasures of old be left uncovered, but even that which was left us would be transmuted into a mass of fraud, lies, and horrible cruelty. If God could save a people, in this corrupt world, for so many generations, and give them so many comforts and promises, only to withhold the Christ from them in the end, in whom is all their hope and joy, and the substance of every blessing actually given or held forth in sign and seal, then it were better to be cast among the vilest of heathens. We would then be of all men most to be pitied.

But God has in fact given us Christ, and, in him, treasures more than can be numbered; and the clearest and most direct record we have of this unspeakable gift comes to us from the pens of the Evangelists. With their writings, carried along at all points by the Holy Spirit, they not only heap up for us treasures beyond compare, but they uncover all the treasures of the holy men of old, in whose rich fields we have been digging for some time. And if we would excel at digging up more riches, we would do well to go back often to those wonderful four.

It is a custom in our nation for men at various historical conventions to dress up as our famous sixteenth president, Abraham Lincoln; and his peculiarities of figure, dress, and mannerism are abundant enough that it is easy to discern at once when someone is doing so. But if you wanted to judge who was mimicking him well, and in what specific ways, the best thing to do would be to study the man himself. The true original would expose all the various ways in which the lesser lights were showing him forth. And in the same way, the true original of God’s saving grace to us, whom we meet in the Evangelists, reveals all the manifold ways in which God’s grace was given in earnest, promised, signified, and treasured up for us by all the prophets who came before, with his dress and features, as it were, displayed imperfectly and yet very wonderfully to the generations before us.

Or else, picture, if you can, God’s gracious and mighty character, mediated to us through his unmerited promises, as a vast and terrible landscape: there in the distance, the seas roar and swell with immense power, as a mighty tempest sweeps across their breakers; but this ferocity is held back by rock-solid cliffs, which bear the brunt of the fury, and shield a pleasant land of meadows, fed with clear, sparkling streams, wherein giddy lambs leap for joy. Far away in the background, this land of rich blessing is encompassed all about by so high and imposing a mountain range that no enemy from lands beyond could possibly traverse them to harm the little flock within – think of it, for such is the character of God displayed in the history of Israel. His holiness and divine wrath are immense as the seas, but the Rock which protects his flock absorbs all that wrath, and flows instead with the water of life. He is a strong tower, protecting his people from all their enemies; and we can see much of him in these various characteristics from the prophets. And yet, for all they show us, they are as stars in the midnight sky, giving the landscape of God’s gloriously diverse excellencies in shadows and mysteries. But Christ is the Sun, in whom all God’s character is perfectly displayed, as the land beneath the midday sun. And if you would better understand the starlight revelations of the prophets, you must see the land in the noon of God Incarnate.

So it is in part to see more of the Christ promised and signified in the Old Testament that we turn today to the gospels; but I must confess that it is for another reason too, and that is, that I distrust my own ability to take the great truths of the scripture and apply them to the people God loves in a way that is neither frivolous nor overwhelming. Jesus is very Truth; he knows – no, but he is in himself – everything we could ever need to know for eternal joy and salvation. But he is more than just Truth, he is also Wisdom. Truth alone may contain all that is necessary for joy in any circumstance; but it requires wisdom to sort out those truths and apply them appropriately. I may find in a chemistry supply store every element I need to heal my body; but it takes the wisdom of a chemist to put them together in just the right proportions and combinations to heal and not destroy.

When I see Jesus walking this earth in the gospel accounts, I am always amazed at how wisely and perfectly he takes just the right truths, and applies them in just the appropriate way to drive those needed truths home. Every question he asks gets right at the heart of the real issue, however deeply it may be buried beneath dissembling hypocrisy. Every admonition proves to be just what is needed to comfort and heal, however different it may be from the hope and expectation of the supplicant. I am slow to discern and understand when it comes to the real and complicated struggles of people on this sin-ravaged earth. But Christ always knew what people needed. He remains the same yesterday and today and forever. And therefore, if you find in your own situations any trials similar to the trials of those among whom Christ walked – and I think you must, because he was surrounded by every kind of person in every conceivable circumstance – you may find in his response a perfectly truthful, perfectly wise answer to your deepest need, which so often goes far beyond your own ability to discern. I pray that, as the Holy Spirit reveals in yourselves essentially similar circumstances to those of the two supplicants in our text today, that he would likewise administer the same healing balm that our Savior gave them in his own time on earth.

I. The Contrasting Conditions of Two Supplicants

The account that we have today is an embedded account of a miracle Jesus did to heal one desperate person while on his way to heal the hurt of another different but equally desperate person. I think there is something of value for us in this very arrangement of the material. We who are finite can only help others according to our constraints of time and space; but Jesus, who shared as a human our physical constraints, never gave up his divine power; and so, no matter how busy he may be with others, we may be certain that he is not too busy for us. The crowds may seem to press around him; but he always has time to stop and call us out by name.

But let us compare the faith that drove these two different persons to apply to Christ for relief. First we meet Jairus. In many ways, he is an example of a very strong, albeit it imperfect, faith. (1) He is an overtly named ruler of the synagogue, not coming in disguise or under an alias, but in plain day, as himself. In this, his faith surpasses that of Nicodemus, who was also an important man among the Jews, but crept to Jesus under the shadow of darkness; and likewise, that of Joseph of Arimathaea, who was a devoted disciple, but secretly, for fear of the Jews. Their fear was understandable; for the rage and jealousy of the Pharisees was so great that they would have had genuine cause to fear an utter loss of their prestige and position if it were known that they held this man, whom the Pharisees so despised, in any esteem at all. The man born blind was cast out of the synagogue simply because he would not denounce the Christ who had just miraculously healed him; and what could Jairus expect if he honored this same man with such a request that implied that the very power of God rested upon him?

Not only did he come overtly; but (2) he cast himself down at his feet. Whether or not this was intended to be an act of worship acknowledging him as very God, we cannot be sure. But it is certain that he intended to portray Jesus as so much greater than himself, and, by extension, than all the other rulers of the synagogue, or even the higher religious authorities of the Temple, that he was as nothing compared to him, but as the dust before his feet. His faith in the mercy and power of Christ must have been great, that he would so readily acknowledge this surpassing greatness.

Then, (3) he evinced an implicit, unquestioning faith in Jesus’ power to heal. True, it was not so great as that of the Gentile centurion, who caused Jesus to marvel when he begged him just to speak a word from afar; but he knew that his daughter was certainly about to die, and in fact he already considered her dead, as the parallel account in Matthew makes clear; and yet, he was certain that, if Christ would but touch her, she would be saved. And later, when the announcement came that she had in fact died, his faith might have faltered, but it persevered even beyond the terrible gates of death.

And finally, the last thing that distinguishes this supplicant from the one to follow, is that (4) his concern was not for himself, but for another; and this was probably part of what energized his faith. True faith, that looks to Christ, always has the savor of Christ in some respect; and as Christ gave the ultimate example of doing all that he did not for his own good but for that of another, so this man, whose concern was not for himself but for his little daughter, was in this respect acting like Christ, and was thus emboldened to come to Christ for relief. In Christlikeness true faith flourishes. When one asks amiss, to consume it upon his lusts, as James indicts the early church of, then doubts, pride, and bickering cut away the heart of faith, and the request, having no real faith behind it, is not answered at all.

When Jairus comes to Christ in desperation over his “little daughter,” he is using an affectionate diminutive, which has no exact correspondence in English. Those of you who are familiar with Spanish or Portuguese, or maybe even more so, with Russian, will know something of the way a diminutive is often added to a name or title to show tender affection. Perhaps the closest equivalent in English would be the “pet names” we give to those we love most intimately. This affectionate address would not usually be employed in third person to another party, as Jairus did here; and thus, it sharply underscores his heart of distraught concern. It is as if he told Jesus, “My little darling is dying” — it is not just his daughter, but he feels that she is his very life, the heart of his own heart.

Let us pause here now to mention a couple of the ways in which you may be like this man, and may therefore expect a similar response from Jesus, who is the same on his throne today as he was by the Sea of Galilee then. First, many of us may be like this man in the knowledge that, whatever we face, it is not in the Pharisees or the physicians around us that we may expect salvation. Jairus could have been expected to seek religious help and favor from the Pharisees. He could have been expected to seek physical help from the doctors. In fact, he probably already had done so. But in his heart, he knew what all Christians know, that whatever help it is that he had need of, this man Jesus was different from all others, this Jesus was in fact able to help. We here today know that much as well; but do our actions betray us? In practice, do we show that our true hope for help is in wise financial planning, or a well-regulated diet and exercise, or in the agenda of some politician with whom we sympathize? Not that there is anything wrong with using the normal means of financiers, dietitians, doctors, politics, etc., that we have the responsibility to be using. But there is a way of being responsible with secondary means while constantly acknowledging our dependence on the operations of Christ. If we are like Jairus in our knowledge that Christ is truly different than all other purported authorities and powers in his grace and ability to heal, then let us not be remiss in falling at his feet whenever we have need of something.

Second, it should encourage us to come to Christ for healing, not just when we acknowledge the truth of who he is, as Jairus did; but also most especially when we are doing so for another person. Our hearts can perhaps never be so in tune with the heart of Christ as when they bleed with love for someone else. This man passionately loved his little darling daughter; and in this he was like Christ, who passionately loves the children God gave to him. He doubtless would have given his life for her; and Jesus was quick to give his life for his own children in the covenant of grace. His heart ached all the more that she was so young and helpless; and so the heart of Jesus is quick to respond to young, helpless children, and suffers no one to turn them away from him. So then, when our hurt is for another person, whether it is a loved one suffering some disease, or a child ravaged by the worse disease of sin and rebellion, or the tribulations of a friend who has been through disaster or persecution or some other such thing, let us be all the more encouraged to come to Christ with this hurt. He loves to heal those whose ache is for another, since he himself knows fully what it is to hurt for a lost or sick or wounded loved one.

But third, let me exhort those of you today who may be strong in believing that Christ is the unique Savior, but who may not have any loved one whose hurt is fully your own, to seek out such a one and take his case to Jesus. In Galatians, the apostle encourages those of us who are strong to bear the burdens of the weak; and he himself gives an example of this, following the example of Christ, in pouring himself out for them as his own dear children with whom he is in birth pangs until Christ be formed in them. If you rejoice, then give thanks to God for his mercy; but at the same time, find someone near you who weeps, that you might weep with them who weep, and plead their case before God. If you are strong in doctrine, sympathize with those still young and weak, and pour yourself out for them, as Jairus poured himself out at the feet of Jesus for his little daughter. If you are healthy, pray for the sick with effectual, fervent prayer. If you dwell in peace, take up the cause of the persecuted Church with war and bloodshed all around her. They are your brothers and sisters, your precious ones in Christ, and he delights to answer the prayers of the strong poured out for the weak.

Let us now examine the contrasting case of the woman with a twelve-year issue of blood. Jairus was a prominent man with a well-known name; she was a nameless nobody. Jairus was strong in himself, and poured out his request for a weaker loved one; she was so consumed with her own problems that she had no energy left to plead for another. He was bold to cast himself down before Jesus in front of the crowds; she hid among the crowds and crept up behind him. Jairus, in the public perception, could have been seen as bestowing honor upon Jesus by touching him, as one of the community’s elite; she feared to touch him at all, for her condition made her ceremonially unclean, and would have brought shame and opprobrium, and certainly no honor. In all these ways, she differed from Jairus. There was every reason to keep her away: a prominent man was approaching Jesus for a sweet little girl who for twelve years had an innocent and joyful life – how then could she, who for the same twelve years had been unclean and of no account, draw his attention away from this graver matter? No, it would be better for her to creep up unawares, and steal a little blessing surreptitiously.

I think that many of you today feel like you have more in common with this woman than with Jairus. You can see crowds of worshipers all around you every Sunday, who seem to have no long-standing, embarrassing, shameful problems like you do. There is always someone up front, in view of everyone, who has much more reason to expect God’s attention. Someone always seems more important, or a better Christian, or more knowledgeable, or with a more important need. Perhaps you feel like approaching Jesus as the woman did – from behind, lost in the crowd, just the touch of a hem of his garment, while he is focusing his attentions on more important matters.

With all those reasons keeping her away, it is only the severity of the situation that induced her to come at all. I wonder if the long-standing trials and problems in the lives of some of you are designed for the same thing – you are so indisposed to trust that Christ will embrace you willingly and lovingly and immediately, that it takes a very sharp goad indeed to get you to him. If that is the case, we should be thankful that he is willing to keep pricking and prodding until we finally do turn to him who holds the answers to all of our problems. It may take twelve years of sorrow, but what is that to an eternity of joy and gratitude?

Just consider how deep the plight of this woman was: she was plagued by chronic illness – those of you who have a chronic condition know how difficult that alone can be. This was compounded by years of disappointed expectations. A hundred times she had gone to a doctor with a glimmer of hope that he could fix her; and a hundred times the doctor had failed. In fact, he had only added further sufferings that were intended to heal but only made things worse. Add to this the fact that she was now in financial ruin. Some of you have been driven to despair by financial pressures alone, and know how devastating they can be. Maybe the economic ramifications of last summer’s floods are still always in your mind, and never let you rest as you once did. This was just one more element of the woman’s misfortune. You may never have considered the social misery that this condition had likewise caused her. For twelve years she had been unclean, and could have no human contact. We are created to be social creatures, and the burden of this strain must have been immense. No wonder that, in spite of her timidity, this poor creature was compelled to come creeping to Jesus! She was very weak. All she had was a little faith, no larger than a mustard seed, that Jesus had the power to help her. But Jesus has never turned away a faith as small as a mustard seed. She might have been a bruised reed, a faintly smoldering wick – but it is the bruised reeds that Jesus came to save. Maybe you feel yourself to be just such a bruised reed today. If you are so, you may be sure that Jesus’ response to you will be no different than his response to this broken woman.

II. The Wisely Differing Responses of Jesus

Let us mention the high points of the response of Jesus to these different supplicants. With Jairus, we may notice a few things: first, Jesus went with him, as he asked; but it was with no explicit affirmation of his intent. When we are strong enough to bear it, Jesus sometimes withholds any immediate answer to our questions. Thus he did with Job, and while we can look back at the story and see the end, how God is pitiful and works everything out for good, we must realize how inexplicable the tragedies must have seemed to Job at the time. In the same way, when God is molding us through trials, he often lets us walk for many steps with no real answers, letting patience have its perfect work in us. But as with Jairus, we may know that, whatever else is beyond our ability to understand, Jesus is in fact walking with us.

Second, Jesus was detained by a no-name, unimportant woman, when his own precious daughter was expiring. While he is anxiously awaiting for his own daughter to be healed, Jesus stops to heal this old, unclean woman – and furthermore, he addresses her as “daughter,” a specific address which, as far as I can remember, is unique in the gospel accounts. Are we tempted to be jealous and bitter when the requests of others are answered so quickly, while our requests, which we believe to be more important, are ignored? Then let us remember that, even though we might be pleading for someone as dear to us as an only daughter, these others are also daughters to Jesus, precious in his sight. He cares for them as he cares for us, and we should rejoice when we see him at work in the lives of any of our brothers and sisters in the Lord.

Third, it was during this delay that Jairus received news that his request had been effectively denied. His daughter had already died, and it would do no good to trouble the Master further. Many of us have had the experience of an inexplicable stroke, powerful enough to shake our faith in the goodness and power of Christ. Oh, that we might learn to trust as our father Abraham trusted, firmly hoping in the salvation promised by the resurrection power of Christ, so that, even if our hope were slain by a stroke, yet we would trust in God who raises the dead, and look for eternal joy in the life to come. We might not see any sudden reversal in this life. That daughter may truly die. We might not see her again this side of the grave. But the story of Jairus teaches us that the grave is not final. Christ may delay for awhile as he helps his other saints. Maybe their number is not yet full, as the martyrs under the altar had to learn; but whether in this life or the life to come, he will revive all our hopes, and cause our joy to triumph over the grave.

Sometimes, when the heavens seem stony and all our treasured hopes seem shattered, when we look to Jesus all we hear is “Do not fear, only believe”. Will we then trust our circumstances, what all that is within and without us cries out in our ears, or will we hope against hope in the resurrection power of Christ?

Finally, we see that Jairus’s hope was mocked by the crowds, who had no true faith as he and this woman did. When we trust in Jesus, our hopes are inexplicable to the world, and any cause for joy and peace in a troubling circumstance may seem foolish to them. Will we succumb to the pressure of the crowds, or continue to look to Jesus, who heals hurts beyond all the piddling hopes of the world?

So Jesus responded to the strong faith of Jairus with a course of actions that caused him to grow more perfect through patient hope of a coming salvation even stronger than the grave. That may be the course he has planned for some of us. That walk to our home may be a walk that lasts all this lifetime, and the patience that he builds in us through that journey may not have its perfect work until we find our hopes fully accomplished in heaven. But if we are too weak for that, and the Physician of souls knows better than we what we are capable of, he will not let us languish, but may run to us with mercies as soon as we stretch out for the hem of his garment.

So he did with this woman. The first thing we notice is that he knew her and had time for her. No one else knew her name, she was a nobody. But Jesus stopped in the midst of all his busy, important work, sought her out, inquired after her and called for her. Even his own disciples suggested that he ought to forget about her and continue on his way – what was one more touch when crowds thronged him and a child was about to die? But through all the fawning and fickle admiration of the crowds he had discerned the tiniest little breath of true faith; and he has never yet turned away a believing request for help, no matter how feeble it may be.

The second thing we see is that her healing was dramatic and immediate. She was weak, and he did not burden her down with the demand for further patience, as he had required of the stronger Jairus. His yoke is easy and his burden light, and he will not overwhelm us with demands too great for us. Some of us may struggle through doubts and fears for many years before the Savior gives us peace, joy, and assurance. But if we are too weak for that, he will not stifle our smoldering faith with such demands, but will leap to us, ready to kill the fatted calf before we are halfway in sight of our home. Some of you have had conversion experiences like that. Others have had specific prayer requests answered in such fashion. Both you who have known such sudden answers and you who have seen them in the lives of others should take hope and courage from the Savior’s great mercies.

Finally, Jesus sent her away with physical and spiritual healing. He gave her true peace and wellness of body and soul alike. Jesus cares for our bodies, and will some day heal every disease and wipe away every tear; but he also cares for our souls. If we don’t receive the answer we are looking for now, it may be that he has a better and more holistic answer awaiting us in his time.

III. The Faith-Building Results of the Healings

The one common element we may see in Jesus’ responses to these supplicants is how they were both designed for the greatest good of the individuals concerned, and not only answered their requests, but did so in such a way as to build up their faith. We may be guilty of complaining that God does not answer us as he did the woman; but maybe it is because he knows it is better for us to answer us as he answered Jairus. Jairus walked through severe tests, but had his request answered at the end; and through it all he learned not to grow weary in patience and well-doing, for in due season we will most certainly reap God’s mercies, if we faint not.

The woman, being weaker, had her request answered right away; but she too had a demand placed upon her that was most difficult. After being dramatically healed, Jesus required of her that she acknowledge him openly and publicly. It was true then and remains true now that if we are ashamed of Jesus before men, he will be ashamed of us, too, before his Father in heaven. But he was not willing to put her to that test until he had first strengthened her by a miraculous response to her needs.

So too, the fruits following the faith-building response of Jesus are instructive to us. Jairus, having received his answer, was commanded to feed the child. How tender and practical is the compassion of our Savior! He not only cares for our souls, but is also sensitive to our physical needs. He knows our frames and remembers we are dust; and the needs of our bodies matter to him. A religion that merely says, “Depart in peace, be warmed and filled,” but does not give the things of which the poor have need, is an affront to Almighty God. Pure religion, and undefiled, is to visit widows and fatherless in their affliction. When we do it to the least of Jesus’ brothers and sisters, we have done it unto him. Surely it was natural and easy for Jairus to obey this command. But so too will it be easy for us if we learn to think of those in need around us as the brothers and sisters of Christ.

But the woman had nothing to give to others around her. All she could do was take God’s mercy, and all she could give back was praise. But her gift of praise is no less precious in God’s sight than all the goods of a wealthy man distributed to feed the poor. God has no need of our time, gifts, money, or talent. If we offer them to him with sincere hearts of praise, they are acceptable; but if we have nothing to offer but two mites and a heart full of worship, that is as rich a gift as any in God’s economy.

CONCLUSION: Run to the All-Wise Physician with Patient Hope

At the conclusion of this account, Christ gives an admonition that may seem puzzling: he tells Jairus not to make this miraculous healing known. In part, this may be because Jesus knew what was in the heart of man, and was not willing to entrust himself to the fickle crowds. He responded to the true but feeble faith of Jairus and the woman; but the hypocrites received none of his saving mercy then, nor will they today.

But I think it is more to the point that Jesus knew it was not yet his time to be glorified for the healing work he had come to accomplish. One day, he would send his disciples to proclaim what he had done in all the world. But first, he had a road of deep humiliation to walk. For the joy that was set before him he endured the cross, despising the shame. He did not try to take the glory before he had fully known the shame and humility.

In this, we can take courage when our requests for healing are not answered in the manner we hope for. Christ may tell us, “Do not fear, only believe,” and give us no specific promise of immediate healing. He may let us walk for twelve years with a crippling disease that progressively grows worse. He may take away the darling of our hearts with a stroke, and we may not see her again until the New Jerusalem, where all is joy. But he never demands of us what he himself was not willing to go through. He too walked a path full of shame and sorrow; but unlike us, he never lost heart in God’s promises, but kept his eyes fixed firmly on the reward, and is now sat down at the right hand of the Father. He knows what he asks of us, and does not hesitate to walk the same path with us. Then can we not trust him, and come to him with joyful hope, knowing that he will certainly heal all our hurts and give us what is eternally for our joy and salvation?

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