Sermon by the rev'd. Pamela Snare

Sermon
July 2, 2006
The Reverend Pamela P. Snare

“Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw Jesus, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” (Mark 5:22-23)

Jairus is a desperate man. We know this first of all by the vivid description of his undignified behavior: he falls on his knees, or perhaps prostrate, in front of Jesus and begs him to come and lay hands on his daughter. Mark says he begs repeatedly. If we can imagine a situation in which we would be moved to fall down in front of someone and beg for help, then perhaps we can begin to appreciate the extremity, the desperation of Jairus.

We also know that Jairus is part of the Jewish religious establishment. He is a leader of the synagogue, a layman in a position of respect and authority in the synagogue and in the community. Members of the Jewish religious establishment in the gospels are usually skeptical, if not downright hostile, toward Jesus. Indeed the few Jewish religious leaders who are sympathetic to Jesus normally do not show or acknowledge it publicly. As in the case of Nicodemus, a leader of the Pharisees, who, in John’s gospel comes to Jesus by night, so that no one will know that he wants to talk to Jesus and to know him.

These details also give us some appreciation of Jairus’ sense of desperation. He, a Jewish religious leader, approaches Jesus in broad daylight in the midst of a huge crowd, falling down and begging for help. Religious leaders, indeed any leaders, then as now, are usually not given to falling down in public to beg for anyone’s help.

But Mark wants us to know that Jesus is Jairus’ last hope for his daughter, for her healing, for her life. All other avenues of healing, of hope, have been exhausted. Jairus has no one else and nowhere else to go to. But Jairus has confidence in Jesus and in his power to heal. Note his words. He does not say, “Come lay hands on her and maybe that will work, maybe that will do something.” He says, “Come lay hands on her so that she may be made well.” And Jairus is not afraid, or ashamed, or embarrassed to beg for Jesus’ help. He is willing to sacrifice his dignity and acknowledge his helplessness - his lack of recourses, and resources, and control. In this, Jairus is a model of faith and of humility.

You know, I used to think that we should never be too specific in our prayers. That we shouldn’t bother God with those details of our lives which we can take care of ourselves, thank you very much. I thought we should only supplicate God for the big things, the lofty things, like wisdom, understanding, knowledge.

But I’ve grown, or rather I should say, been led to see the error of my thoughts and my ways. And Jairus reminds me of this. The details of our lives are the stuff of which our lives are made. And God wants to share with us, and us to share with him, our lives. Not our lofty thoughts, but our lives. The nitty-gritty, the everyday. The everyday frustrations, the everyday needs, the everyday desires.

Not to share those things, the everyday frustrations, needs, desires, is to shut God out of the major part of our lives. It is to live, not in dependence on God, but in dependence on ourselves to control, manipulate, and take care of things.

To bring the specific situations of lives into our supplications may seem to us undignified, but like Jairus, unless we are willing to sacrifice our dignity because we know our helplessness we may never see or experience the healing power of God. Remember that in the gospel narratives, there are regions where Jesus can do no “mighty work” because of the people’s lack of faith, of trust, of belief in him and in his power. We must assume at all times in our prayers that God has the power to do his work – despite appearances, despite human failure, despite human hardness of heart and other obstacles. That is what faith means, not “Maybe, Lord, you can do something about this,” but “Lord, I know you can do something about this. I know that you are good and that you are doing your work, even with all the human impediments and obstacles we put in your path.”

You remember, when messengers come to Jairus to tell him that his daughter is dead and not to trouble Jesus any further, Jesus says to him. “Do not fear, only believe.” “Only believe” translates a present imperative. It actually means, “Do not be afraid. Ignore this message and keep on believing, keep on trusting.”

When Jesus tells the mourners at Jairus’ house that the child is not dead but sleeping, they laugh at him. But Jairus does not laugh. He goes with Jesus to the child’s bedside. He trusts, he is obedient, despite what others say, despite their laughter, despite appearances. He simply accepts whatever Jesus says and whatever Jesus does and whatever Jesus tells him to do.

This is the other crucial part of bringing our daily frustrations, and needs, and desires to God. Once we have voiced our concerns and made them known to him, shared our very human lives and selves, we leave them in his hands, to work and to do as he will. As John noted last Sunday, curiously, God’s timetable is often not our timetable; God’s agenda is not exactly our agenda, because he sees and knows in a more complete and unified way than any one of us, and he is holding each of us and our lives and all lives in his hand all of the time. But since we know and trust that he knows and sees better than we, we leave the outcome of our requests in his hands, as better and closer to what he desires, than how we would have it. And we simply accept whatever comes. That is humility, that is trust, that is obedience, that is the life of faith.

I dare say that the aftermath of Katrina has, and will for some time, provide us with more than enough grist of daily frustrations, needs, and desires to bring to God in the mill of prayer. But that is the stuff of which our lives are made, and God wants to share that with us, and us to share that with him. He will honor and work in all our requests, made in humility and acceptance and trust, for our healing, for our restoration.

He addresses to us today these words, in spite of appearances, in spite of what onlookers may say to us in skepticism and mockery: “Do not fear. Just keep on trusting, believing. I am working for your health and restoration.”

The Reverend Pamela P. Snare

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