June 30, 2024
6th Sunday after Pentecost, Pastor Jodi Houge
We have two stories today. One story actually interrupts the other one. We have the first person in the Gospel of Mark that Jesus raises from the dead is a 12 year old girl. And a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years.
Let’s talk about the 12 year old first. She was the daughter of an important man-he was a leader in the synagogue. He had sway, maybe some swagger, definitely power. But as many of us know first hand, none of that can protect you from dying. This young girl was on the brink of death. So her dad, Jairus, finds Jesus and makes a request. Come and save her, Jesus. And Jesus does. Except, on his way to their house, Jesus gets interrupted. And during that delay, the girl dies. Think for a moment of what it was like for Jairus to wait for Jesus. As his baby girl takes her last breaths, he stands and waits for Jesus to heal some random woman in the crowd. From Jairus’ view, Jesus was sure taking his sweet old time in an every second counts situation.
By the time Jesus finally does arrive at their house, people are outside, Crying. Overcome with grief. Funeral plans were being made. The wailers were wailing. The neighbors were putting together hot dishes to bring over. The funeral lunch planning committee was already deciding whether to serve ham buns or turkey buns. Everyone had embraced death. Even though—even though Jesus himself showed up. Love incarnate came to their door.. Love Incarnate—Jesus–came to their door and offered Life. And they were so overcome with their view of death that they couldn’t see it. They cannot see that he is so about life that the forces of death do not stand a chance in his presence.
So, Jesus gives them eyes to see. Jesus said: “why do you make a commotion and weep? You are not dead but merely asleep. Get up.” Jesus raises the dead-because that’s what love does—and not only does this unnamed 12 year old girl live, but the entire community surrounding her is raised with her. They were given eyes to see New Life and a better story to tell. Stop the funeral march because Love is here-love it working it’s thing.
Are there places where you can only see death? Where you have been planning funerals? Places in your life and your heart where it feels like a long dirge to the grave? Jesus says to you, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? You are not dead but merely asleep. Get up.”
The second story in the Gospel is of a woman. Also unnamed. She has some sort of disease which has caused her to bleed for 12 years. She spent all her money on trying to get well. Doctors, homeopath, chiropractors, a trip down to Mayo Clinic. The bought vitamins off the internet. She’s tried it all. Bleeding made her an outcast. We have health practices around blood for some solid reasons. Also it kind of freaks people out. The same was true for her, way back then. If she was bleeding for 12 years, that meant that she was an outcast. Way, way on the fringe of her community. People avoided her. It’s hard to be a day laborer when you are bleeding so my hunch is this woman is living a life of poverty.
This Gospel says that she had endured much under many physicians, spent all she had on possible cures and she did not get any better.
Does anyone in this room no what it’s like to endure much, under many physicians, spend all you have, to not get better?
This woman sees Jesus in the middle of town. We know Jesus is on his way to heal that girl. But this woman didn’t know that. She’d heard stories about him. About how the things Jesus says and does changes people. What if?
So she thinks: what if I could just make my way to him. Close enough to grab him. Have you ever been at a live concert and decided you want to worm your way up front? To the stage? If that image doesn’t work for you, think about walking through the Miracle of Birth building at the State Fair. Or really, anywhere at the Fair. You know how hard that is…that’s how I picture this woman moving through the crowd to Jesus. The crowd is thick around Jesus. But she does it. She gets close enough to grab the hem of his clothes. A little piece of fringe hanging down.
This woman desperately reaches out toward Jesus in a crowded marketplace. She enters the scene alone, in secrecy and shame, nameless. She has no credentials, no church credibility. I mean, does she even know the Creed? The Lord’s Prayer? The 10 Commandments? Did she fill out a pledge card? Has she accepted Jesus as her personal Savior? Considered joining a committee? Does she know to stand to sing a hymn? No. No no no no. She has none of the things. She brings what she does have: raw, desperate need for another way.
12 years of suffering, and she makes one little move toward Life and “whoooooosh.” One small adjustment, really. A last straw, perhaps. But a move toward healing just the same. It changes everything. The power of healing: of mercy, dignity, love radiates off of Jesus. Like a cup that overflows. And it transform this woman and the whole crowd around her. Because you better believe they were listening and watching to this interaction. She entered alone in shame but Jesus heals her in public for the whole world to see, lifting her shame and bringing her back into community. She is no longer nameless, she is now Beloved.
I wonder if any of us know what it likes to suffer for 12 years? I bet we do. We carry hurt from people who wronged us in childhood, 12 years of secret addictions, 12 years of broken hearts. Is there a place within your life that you have just given over to death? Where you have been bleeding out for years? Some part of your life that you feel is too far gone?
This story tells us that no one is beyond the reach of Jesus’ love. There is no too far gone storyline here today.
Jesus offers life, here, to both the young girl and the woman. Jesus offers the same to you. A reorientation-of looking at the world differently. Of stepping out of fear and death and into another way.
Maybe you aren’t ready. Maybe you want to continue the funeral planning. The quiet suffering. If could be that you want to hang on to grudges, hate, fear. Maybe year 13 is your year.
If you are ready,
What is it that you are ready to set down?
Perhaps, today, you are ready to not be dead. To say is enough?
Life, healing, love, forgiveness. It’s all laid out before us, like a great big garden of Eden. If the story we tell and adore at Christmas is true—that Jesus slips into the world and stays. If Jesus is that Love —showing up everywhere, then that means that healing and forgiveness are possible every single day. Love is in the room and the dead will be raised.
One small move toward healing might be the difference between feeling dead inside and getting up and walking into the rest of your life.
I chose this Gospel for my ordination service. It has formed me as a pastor and a public leader. I decided early on that I want to be a part of a church that is present in crowded marketplaces, dangling the hem of Jesus’ garment, so that those who are desperate might have the courage to grab onto a love that is always moving toward us in mercy, restoring us to community. This summer, this Gloria Dei is gathering in so many places. On coffeeshop patios and ball games and on a boat on the Mighty Miss. These are invitations to relationships with one another. And. Every one of those events are you being present in the marketplace, gently offering the hem of Jesus.
Gloria Dei is also in the unique position of the people wanting to come into this space. The marketplace enters this building all week long. Last weekend this sanctuary was packed with world class music events. Yesterday, there was a wedding. On Monday morning, we stood at the doors and greeted people as they arrived and asked: Are you here for Vacation Bible School? Great. Go that way. Music class? That way. Theater camp? Bible study? That way.
Then all week long, the sounds of kids echoed through the sanctuary, hallways, gathering space, the lawn and every other nook and cranny of this place. It was enough joy to raise the dead.
No one here is too needy.
No one here is nameless, you are Beloved.
And Jesus says to you, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? You are not dead but merely asleep. Get up.” Amen.