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Trouble Not the Master:
Reflections on the Resurrection
Of the Daughter of Jairus in the Gospel of Luke
By Philip D. Ropp
October, 2005
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The seventh, eighth and ninth chapters of
Luke’s gospel mark the transition of Jesus from an itinerant Galilean
preacher, prophet and worker of wonders into the “Christ of God,”
destined for Jerusalem, the cross, and, ultimately, the miracle of the
empty tomb. To be sure, controversy had traveled with Jesus since
the beginning of this Galilean ministry, when he brought it down upon
himself in no uncertain terms at the synagogue in Nazareth.
However, as his miracles grew in intensity and profundity to include
mastery of the forces of nature, an exorcism of spectacular
proportions, and even the raising of the dead, so too did the tension
and debate that swirled around the question of his identity.
Truly, Jesus’ fame now preceded him.
Crowds anticipated his arrival “with people from one town after another
journeying to him.” It is easy to sense the circus atmosphere,
with the cleansings, the healings, the calming and the casting outs
merely sideshow attractions to the act of restoring life to a dead body
in the center ring. Like the Babe calling his shot against the
Cubs, Jesus points to the great Elijah raising the son of the widow of
Zarephath, and then duplicates the feat by raising the son of the widow
of Nain. Luke takes this opportunity to subtly show us the shift
in the perception of Jesus beyond prophetic status by referring to him
as “Lord,” a title hitherto reserved for God. And the
significance of this event is not lost on his Jewish audience, as it is
exclaimed, “God has visited his people.”
Oddly enough, the significance of all of this
does seem to be lost on John the Baptist. Luke continues his
narrative with the disciples of John sent to question Jesus as to
whether he is, "…the one who is to come, or should we look for
another?" Clearly, the perception of just who Jesus is and what his
ministry is about is called into question. While it is beyond the scope
of this work to explore the nuances of meaning that are latent in the
Baptist’s inquiry – a topic that would warrant a work of its own – it
must suffice to say that, for our purposes here, it is obvious that
Jesus has assumed a role that is outside the expectations that John
originally had for him. John’s question, "Are you the one who is
to come?" seems clearly to be in response to Jesus seemingly taking
upon himself this role of Elijah; the role assigned to John before his
birth in the prophecy by the angel Gabriel in Luke 1: 17: "He will go
before him in the spirit and power of Elijah to turn the hearts of
fathers towards children and the disobedient to the understanding of
the righteous…" In his response, Jesus spells the situation out
for the Baptist as follows:
Go and tell John what you have seen and heard:
the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the
deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the good news proclaimed
to them. And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.
( Luke 7:22b-23)
The message to John is clear. No prophet of
Israel ever performed signs such as these and in this abundance.
And after the messengers depart, Jesus addresses the ever-present
crowds concerning the Baptist, ultimately explaining that he is "…the
one about whom scripture says: 'Behold I am sending my messenger ahead
of you, he will prepare your way before you.'"
The scripture that Jesus refers to and, in fact,
directly quotes, is Malachi 3:1, which, in context, is a clear
reference to the person of Elijah. In verse 29 of chapter 7, Luke
tells us that all that had been baptized by John “…acknowledged the
righteousness of God;” while those that were not baptized by him,
specifically the “…Pharisees and scholars of the law… rejected the plan
of God for themselves.” And so the tension builds and intensifies
through the balance of Luke 7 and into Luke 8. It is Jesus
himself that positions his ministry in such a way that there is no
neutral ground, and it is he that makes this greater question of his
true identity the central issue that underlies the sensationalism of
the miraculous occurrences that he instigates. To accept John in
this role of Elijah is to accept Jesus as… Not one dared speak
the word for fear of the rebuke of the Pharisees, the scribes and the
religious ones that ruled the synagogues. Even the Twelve, though
they saw these things, participated in them, and pondered in their
hearts what they meant, dared not speak the word. Finally, in
chapter 9, Jesus poses the pregnant question to them directly, "But who
do you say that I am?" And it is only Peter with the courage to
answer, "The Christ of God."
It is in the midst of this growing tension and
apprehension concerning the divinity of Jesus that we find the story of
Jarius’ daughter intertwined with that of the woman with a
hemorrhage. Jesus and the Twelve have just returned from a
successful engagement with the demoniac in the territory of the
Gerasenes. Since there is no specific location named, we do not
know which town it is in Galilee that they have returned to, perhaps
Nazareth itself. We are told that there was a crowd
enthusiastically awaiting his arrival.
A man named Jairus emerges from the crowd and
approaches Jesus. Luke calls him “an official of the
synagogue.” The Greek word that the NAB translates as “official”
is archon, often rendered as “ruler.” Phillips
goes so far as to
translate this phrase “president of the synagogue.” In any event,
it is clear that it is Luke’s intent to convince us that Jairus is a
very important and powerful personage simply by the device of telling
us his name, as opposed to the woman with the hemorrhage, who is
mentioned anonymously. Indeed, part of the evangelical purpose in
relating these stories together is to juxtapose a nobody and a somebody
in such a way as to demonstrate the equality of all souls in need
before the Master. Perhaps Jairus was one of those present that
day at the incident at Nazareth, filled with fury and leading on those
seeking the blood of the man he now approaches in utter, heartbroken
despair.
On this day, his daughter, his one and only, lies
dying. The very fact that he has come to Jesus, pushed his way
through the crowds and fallen, begging at his feet, shows that this
horror, this great torment of the impending death of a child has driven
this man into a direct confrontation with himself and his God. As
a leader in the synagogue, it is likely that Jairus is a
Sadducee. Heretofore, God has been merely a concept measured in
laws and religious regulations aimed at maintaining and sustaining a
rigorous social order. His understanding of God has been to
equate love with fear, disobedience with destruction, and death with
finitude and the extinguishing of consciousness. But on this day,
with his daughter nearing death’s door, he suddenly realizes that he
needs more than this. He has heard the stories. To be sure,
he has taken the lead in discounting and denying them. He has
called for the blood of this crazed and deluded prophet, this Jesus
that has set himself up as the Messiah of Israel and dared to rouse the
rabble of the streets to whisper among themselves the ultimate
blasphemy: that he is the Son of God.
We can only imagine what this man has gone through
on this day. Surely, it follows a fitful and sleepless
night. There has been the last visit of the physicians, solemnly
shaking their heads, averting their eyes from the anxious parents, and
expressing their sorrow that there is nothing left for them to
do. Loved ones have gathered like well-meaning vultures to offer
solace and begin to make the preparations for burial. And there
is the child, breathing ever more shallow, slipping slowly but surely
into the vast and impenetrable void as these agonizing last hours
pass. It is at this point that Jairus reaches out to confront the
God that he has served from a distance so faithfully for lo, these many
years. And in this moment he prays the first real prayer of his life,
as out of the depth of his grief he cries out to heaven the question
that man has screamed from the bottom of his pain since the first
moment his sin robbed him of his place in eternity: “WHY?”
That this prayer is answered is as startling
to him as the answer itself. Suddenly he knows what it is he
needs. Of course! He knows the answer to his daughter’s illness,
it is the answer the doctors do not have. He knows the cure for
death: It is Life! And he knows who has it: Jesus!
His wife is incredulous that her husband would
leave at a time like this, when she needs him with her so much.
He tells her that he will explain later and leaves her with one
instruction: “Pray!” he tells her, “Pray with all of your heart!
Pray as if God really hears you and really cares! Pray for the
life of your child and for our own wretched souls!”
It is not hard to find Jesus. Find the
crowd and he will be at its center. Jairus pushes aside one
person after another until, finally, there he is! Jesus! He
makes his way to the Master, and, falling at his feet, he manages
between sobs to beg him to come to his house and save his beloved
child.
Jesus is startled at first. He knows
this man. He is the leader of the synagogue, and a Sadducee whom
he had engaged in a spirited and even rather ugly debate concerning the
resurrection of the dead. On that day he had left this man
flushed and fuming, embarrassed and angry, but on this day his daughter
dies, and life and death have taken on a new and immediate flesh and
blood dimension that far exceeds any intellectual discussion. Today
this man’s pride has shrunk to the point where it is easily swallowed
past the lump that has risen in his throat. And so Jesus pulls
him to his feet and looking into his eyes sees raging within him the
primordial struggle of humanity between fear and faith. Jesus
knows that on this day, should he go home with this man, it is faith
that will conquer fear, and is this not why Christ has come?
The crowds are crushing, moving in as if to
embrace Jesus so that he cannot leave their presence. Even for
Simon Peter it is all that he can do to keep them moving through this
sea of human souls. Suddenly Jesus stops because the woman with
the hemorrhage has touched the tassel of his cloak and he has felt the
healing power of God rush from him into her. It must seem an
eternity to Jairus as he waits for Jesus to lift this woman out of the
anonymity of the crowd and recognize her faith as the cause of her
healing. Yet the power of this faith of hers, a power that has effected
a cure that no human agent could, must have resonated within him and
produced the catalyst of hope that he so desperately needed to
strengthen his own faith, for it is only with such hope that faith
accomplishes the miraculous acts of God.
It is at this moment, when hope has
strengthened faith to the point where fear is about to be conquered,
that the servant of Jairus arrives with the dreaded news. While
Jesus still speaks to the woman, the servant speaks to Jairus, "Your
daughter is dead; do not trouble the teacher any longer." It is
this moment that is the moment of truth. If despair does not
crush hope, and fear, in turn, does not conquer faith, then all will be
well. Jesus reassures him, "Do not be afraid; just have faith and
she will be saved." In this moment Jairus reaches down within
himself and finds, at the very bottom of his being, that which saves
hope. Trust. Jesus tells him not to fear, and he is not
afraid. Jesus tells him to just have faith, and so he does.
Jesus tells him that his daughter will be saved, and some how, even
though his reason tells him that this is not possible, he knows that
this is true, and in this moment he believes, he knows, and in his soul
he makes his confession to the question that Jesus poses to all
humankind: “Who do you say that I am?” And in his heart Jairus
knows the answer: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
Jesus manages to move Jairus ahead of the crowd and
with them he takes Peter, James and John that they might be witness to
what is about to occur. The wife of Jairus meets them at the
door, her eyes red and swollen, her heart broken. Yet when she sees the
trust for this man Jesus that is on the face of her husband, she finds
welling within herself a feeling of hope and anticipation. They enter
the house to the scene we would expect to find, a scene of weeping,
mourning and lamentation. Jesus speaks to those present, "Do not
weep any longer, for she is not dead, but sleeping." And while
they are ridiculing him for his insensitivity and blatant stupidity at
not recognizing death when he sees it, Jesus takes the girl by the hand
and calls to her, "Child, arise!" Immediately, the dead girl
breathes, opens her eyes, and returns to life. Jesus instructs
the now silenced gathering to fix the risen one something to eat, as if
to say, “You can be good for something after all.”
We are not surprised to find out that Jairus
and his wife are astounded, not to mention delighted, by this incident
that defies all logic and science. This would certainly be
expected, and anyone would respond with amazement at such a turn of
events. What is somewhat surprising is that Jesus instructs them
to tell no one what has happened. This is in rather stark
contrast to the raising of the son of the widow of Nain, which was
accomplished by halting a large funeral procession and raising the
young man up out of his coffin in a most dramatic and public way.
Indeed, it was this very performance that served to make Jesus famous
“…through the whole of Judea and in the surrounding region.” And
it was this event that served to establish and identify him as more
than a prophet after the order of Elijah, but as the Christ himself,
which has been the observation here since the outset.
The most striking aspect of the resurrection of the
daughter of Jairus, after the act of resurrection itself, is the
private context in which the miracle takes place. No one is
allowed to enter the house with Jesus but Peter, James, John and the
parents, and so we picture in our minds the crowd outside milling
around and buzzing with curious conversation. And when this
astounding event has been accomplished, the parents are specifically
instructed to tell no one what has happened which, it is safe to
assume, is a pointed reference to this crowd outside awaiting just such
news as this. This is most different than what took place at the
incident at Nain.
What does it mean that Jesus, and in turn Luke, treats these two
resurrection events so differently?
The first is set within the context of the national
expectations of the Jews of the first century. The advent of
Elijah was commonly held to be the event that would herald the expected
Messiah and the reunification of Israel as a sovereign state.
That Jesus has redefined and gone beyond this messianic expectation, as
we have seen, is clearly indicated by the pointed question of the
Baptist, "Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for
another?" And Jesus ends his testimony to John with this equally
pointed remark, "I tell you, among those born of women, no one is
greater than John; yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than
he." Jesus uses this first incident of resurrection to show what
the kingdom of God was not to be; that is a cultural, political,
military, and historical revolution. Rather, it is an internal
transformation of the human heart and mind to a new and higher eternal
kingdom that rules within the human soul and spirit. The crowds
and, ultimately, even the Baptist himself, were taught to see that the
resurrection of the widow’s son was the message of this divine
salvation, not the medium of human insurrection.
And it is this second story that brings this truth
home to us in all its poignant beauty. It is the story of a man
that through his love for a child was able to give up everything that
he stood for intellectually and humble himself in the eyes of the world
so that he might find repentance, and through this repentance, faith,
and through this faith new life for not only his daughter, but also his
wife and himself. It is the story of a man that fell at the feet
of Christ and begged to be considered least in the kingdom of heaven
and in so doing became greater than the greatest man in all of
Israel. It is the story of the fear and faith, hope and despair,
doubt and belief that drives us all to go in search of the love of
God. And it is the story of how this love of God, once found,
triumphs over death. It is the story of the Gospel of Jesus
Christ and it is good news indeed! |
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