The woman had been sick for a very long time. So long, in fact, she didn't know what to do. She didn't know where to turn. Everybody suggested a different remedy, but none of them would work. She visited many physicians, but none of them could help. She stayed sick. As time passed, she grew worse. All those medical bills were bleeding her dry. So when she heard Jesus was coming to town, she pushed her way through the crowd. She'd heard about him, of course. The last time he worked on this side of the sea, "he had cured many," says Mark. "All who had diseases pressed upon him to touch him." Now it was her turn to get well. She pushed through the multitude, saying, "I don't need to talk to him. I don't need to bother him. I don't need to slow him down with a lot of bedside chatter. All I need to do is touch the edge of his garment. Then I will be made well." As we have heard, that is what happened.
Well, almost. Because, as we have also heard, two things went wrong. First, no sooner did she touch his clothes than Jesus spun around and said, "Who touched me?" Apparently he didn't let anybody get healed anonymously, much less this anonymous woman. "Who touched me?" Jesus said. He stood there, looking for her, scanning the crowd. He looked at every face: some of them eager, some curious, some confused. He kept looking until he saw her. And her anonymous touch became a conversation face-to-face. She told him what she'd done. He said, "Daughter, faith has made you well. Go in peace. Be healed of your disease." It was a big moment for her. There she was, sick, desperate, and anonymous. And Jesus healed her, blessed her with his peace, and gave her the name "daughter."
What I want you to notice is Jesus took the time to do all of this. For twelve years, the woman heard the scriptures declare her "unclean" because of her hemorrhage. Jesus took the time to heal her and restore her to full status in the community. For twelve years, she had shuffled through her days without dignity. On the day she touched Jesus, he turned and treated her as a human being.
I want you to notice he took the time to speak with her, because I also want you to notice that, because he took time for the woman, he ran out of time for somebody else. He was late for a previous appointment. That's the second thing that went wrong. While Jesus was busy healing the woman who had been sick for twelve years, a sick twelve-year-old girl died.
Fortunately this sort of thing doesn't happen much in the Gospel of Mark. Jesus got interrupted from a healing by a healing. Jairus begged, "Please heal my daughter." He intended to make the young girl well by a touch and a word. On the way, however, Jesus was interrupted by a sick woman he called his daughter. She interrupted him with a touch and a word. And the daughter of Jairus died because Jesus ran out of time.
It must have been an embarrassing moment. Imagine how that pushy woman must have felt. The word of death came, says Mark, "while Jesus was still speaking" to her. She stood there, healed and whole. Refreshed for the first time in years. Yet because of her demand on Jesus, death came to somebody else. Imagine how that woman must have felt. She had been sick for twelve years. If only she had waited another fifteen minutes, Jesus could have healed the little girl first. Then the woman could have pushed to the front of the line to touch the edge of his garment. I mean, her timing was all wrong. Not only that, it must have put Jesus in an uncomfortable spot. Picture the girl's father. Jairus insisted that Jesus come to his house and help. The man stood by patiently as Jesus paused along the way. He grew hopeful as Jesus restored the sick woman. Then came the message from his house: "Jairus, don't trouble the teacher any further. Your daughter is dead." In the face of such news, what should Jesus say? "Sorry, Jairus, I meant to heal your daughter, but I guess I got held up." No, he couldn't say that. It's a difficult dilemma. Jesus meant to heal one, instead healed another, and the first one died.
As you know, Jesus eventually went to the house and raised the little girl from the dead. But that merely suspends the problem; it doesn't solve it. Because we all know that for every person who ever gets healed of a disease, someone else will die. For every person who can push through the crowd to claim the power of Christ, somebody else stands close at hand, having just lost a daughter or son.
I guess we need to take some time away from the story to sort it out. Some people get well. Others do not. What can we say about that? Sometimes the words fail us. Early in my ministry, I received a phone call from a seminary classmate. It was late and he sounded distraught. Among his hospital rounds, my friend had begun to visit a young boy from his church. The child had leukemia. There was nothing anybody could do. This minister was faithful through all the rapid stages of the disease. They became friends. They played checkers together. They shared an occasional meal. When the end was near, they were alone in the hospital room, quietly sharing the evening. Suddenly the boy broke the silence. He said, "Reverend, I think I know why God isn't able to make me better." "Why is that?" said my friend. The boy said, "Because I think he's busy helping everybody else." My friend said, "I left that room, got in the car, and drove around for a while. I didn't know what to say." What can we say? Some people get well; others do not.
The Gospel of Mark would probably say, "That is the way this world is." All the gospels agree Jesus was a healer. He restored life in the face of death. Some of the stories sound quite successful. Luke says, "People came to hear him and to be healed of their diseases ... and all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him, and he healed all of them" (Luke 6:18-19). Matthew says, "Jesus cured every disease and every sickness among the people ... They brought to him all the sick, those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics, and he cured them" (Matthew 4:23-24).
By contrast, Mark adds a note of restraint. Mark says, "They brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. The whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick" (Mark 1:32-34). Do you hear the difference? Jesus "cured many," not all. Many got well around him, but not everybody.
The Gospel of Mark knows what you and I know: sooner or later, one way or another, all of us become sick. The warranty runs out on our moveable parts. A stain appears on the X-ray. The blood count changes without warning. Or a hemorrhage begins and lasts twelve years. That's how it is in a world like this. Like it or not, sooner or later, one way or another, time will run out. Sometimes the human body develops a problem that cannot be fixed, just like the daughter of Jairus. She died. Other times, somebody may stop the clock prematurely. That's what happened to Jesus. He was put to death on a tree. Like it or not, every human life will run its course.
One of the great illusions of our age is that we can live forever through better medicine. So we spend billions of dollars on medical research. We build machines that keep our lungs breathing. We design great drugs to keep our hearts ticking. Like that sick woman, we are willing to spend all that we have to clot up that hemorrhage. But we're not necessarily better for it. All we do is buy a little bit of time.
The writer of Mark starts with what we know: this is a world of sickness and death. Sooner or later, every single life runs out of time. But Mark knows something else. Jesus came preaching, "The time is fulfilled; God's kingdom is near." And every sick person he touched became well, one person at a time. And every hopeless person who trusted his word found peace, one person at a time. And do you know why? Because in Jesus Christ, the eternal realm of God has intersected our world of timelines and lifespans. In Jesus Christ, the God beyond time has intruded upon our business-as-usual. That is, even though Jesus didn't heal everybody, the day will come when he will. Even though he ran out of time, he will never run out of time. He was born, and raised, to redeem our days with the powerful touch of God's eternity. And that's the good news that makes all the difference.
So let's go back to the story ... The messengers said, "Jairus, your daughter is dead. Don't trouble the teacher any more." Jesus said, "Jairus, do not fear, only believe." At the house, there was a great commotion with people weeping and wailing loudly. Jesus said, "Why do you make a great commotion? The child is not dead but sleeping." They laughed at him, because he didn't seem to know what kind of world this is. Yet Jesus had the last laugh. He took the child by the hand and said, "Get up!" Immediately she got up, alive and well, and she began to walk.
In one of Flannery O'Connor's short stories, there is a character who speaks a great line. He says, "Jesus was the only One that ever raised the dead, and He shouldn't have done it. He has thrown everything off balance."1 Indeed he has. A sick woman pushed through the crowd to touch the garment of Jesus. We could expect him to rebuke her and say, "Get out of my way." Or he could have ignored her because he was busy. Instead Jesus interrupted his work to do his work.
When the interruption caused Jairus to hear the sad news that his daughter was dead, we might have thought, "Well, that's that." At best, we could expect the tardy Jesus to make an apology. Or maybe we could ask him to lead the funeral service. But Jesus has never led a funeral. Instead he presides over a resurrection. Thanks to Jesus, everything has been thrown off balance. The world as we know it is becoming "the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ" (Revelation 11:15). In the meantime, whenever any of us gets healed of a disease, we see a brief sign of God's kingdom still breaking in. Whenever a surgical procedure makes us well, we are reminded of a final destiny when all shall be well. Whenever we are saved from the jaws of death, it is a blessed disruption of the world as we know it. It is a glimpse of God's new creation, already present yet still coming through Jesus Christ our Lord.
We cannot be naive. We know what kind of world this can be. There are occasions when life cannot be saved or sustained. There are moments when it looks like Jesus our savior has run out of time. But we also know Jesus Christ will never really run out of time. For the Lord is risen. He is stronger than every power that can damage, hurt, or destroy. And he will not cease his labor, until one by one, he takes each of us by the hand and raises us from the dead.
1. Flannery O'Connor, "A Good Man Is Hard to Find," A Good Man Is Hard to Find and Other Stories (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Publishers, 1983), p. 28.