Life Before And After Death
Preaching
There Are Demons In The Sea
Preaching The Message Of The Miracles
The Raising Of Jairus' Daughter
This is a story in which devotion and doctrine come together. It is an account of vivid contrasts -- human tenderness and profound theology.
It begins with a father's devoted concern for his little daughter and ends with our Lord's tender-hearted sensitivity to a restored child's need for food. Yet, at the same time, in contrast to this touching scene of human emotions, the miracle stands as a sign pointing to the most profound teaching of our faith -- the Resurrection, life's victory over death, and the promise of everlasting life.
Compassion is so often mushy, and theology is so often stuffy; but here in a single story the two extremes are woven together harmoniously into an unforgettable story. The human and the divine are combined, and though there are extreme differences involved, there is no resounding clash. For Christ is present and stands in the center of the story. He is the Word become flesh. He is the eternal Holy Word of God revealed in the warm-blooded flesh of the human.
Here in this miracle we are privileged to see "The Gentle Jesus" and "The Cosmic Christ"; our story proclaims that they are one.
The Setting
Jesus is now coming to the close of his Galilean ministry. He has healed the sick, given sight to the blind, healing to the deaf, hope to the poor and despised. He has proclaimed the Kingdom of God with a courageous conviction that has pleased many, but antagonized some.
He has reached great heights of popularity and at the same time threatened the power structure of the religious leaders who rule in high places. He has revised the Law and broken the sacred Sabbath. To say the least, he has become a controversial figure. To some he is a famous prophet, to others he is an infamous blasphemer.
As our story opens, Jesus is leaving the Eastern shores of Decapolis and sailing toward Capernaum. The lake is small, so the people on the other side soon see his boat and rush to the shore to greet him. And among them -- in fact out in front of them all -- is a frantic father, Jairus by name, who desperately desires Jesus to help his seriously-ill child.
Jairus
Jairus was ruler of the local synagogue; because of this we can safely assume he was rich, respected, and religious. There is disagreement among interpreters, however, about his exact attitude toward Jesus. We know that, at the time of this miracle story, our Lord had incurred the hatred of many religious leaders. Again and again he had ignored and actually defied the Law by healing on the Sabbath. Hostility against him had become so serious that, prior to our story, Mark records (Mark 3:1-6) that when Jesus had healed the man with a crippled hand in the synagogue on the Sabbath, the Pharisees were furious. Mark ends the account, "So the Pharisees left the synagogue and met at once with some members of Herod's party, and made plans against Jesus to kill him."
Walter Lowrie believes, "Jairus belonged to a class of dignitaries which were generally hostile to Jesus. Jairus, if he was not himself a scribe, must have been in sympathy with the pharisaical party."1
Because of this, William Barclay describes Jairus as a man "who was prepared to swallow his pride. He was prepared to ask help from the man he had despised."2
Other interpreters like Hendriksen, Nineham, and Ronald Wallace recognize that not all the religious leaders shared the attitude of the Pharisees toward Jesus. Some listened to him and responded positively. As Nineham puts it, "There were those who, when trouble forced them to face realities, could not help admitting power and even begging for its exercise, with a public display of humility which showed that they really recognized its character and source."3
Ronald Wallace goes so far as to say, "It was faith that had brought Jairus to Jesus. He believed that this Teacher and Healer could do something for him in his need and despair."4
Even though his exact attitude toward Jesus is debated by interpreters, we do know from the plot of the story that Jairus was a devoted father and dearly loved his daughter. Therefore, he was deeply distressed because of her serious illness; so much so that he did an unusual thing for a man in his position. Mark says that when he saw Jesus he threw himself down at his feet and begged him as hard as he could to come and heal his daughter.
It was surprising to behold a man who was looked up to by everyone in the community assuming such an undignified and demeaning position before a young prophet who was in serious trouble with the Pharisees. No wonder Mark, Matthew, and Luke all stress the size of the crowd that thronged about Jesus that day. This was not something seen every day. This drama of Jairus kneeling before Jesus was an event that would make headlines in the daily papers in any age and draw a crowd in any community.
Remembering that Jairus was a rich man, who undoubtedly had utilized all the medical services and resources money could buy, explains to some extent the extraordinary lengths to which Jairus was willing to go. He realized all his prayers in the synagogue and all his influence and wealth accomplished nothing. Jesus was his last and only hope.
Sometimes when we think that money and power and influence can do everything, we need to remember Jairus. He was a man of privilege, but he knew the poverty of privilege when facing life's most perplexing problems. We might drown our sorrows in champagne and stuff ourselves with epicurean delights but still thirst and starve to death, if what we really need is "the water that ends thirst," and "the bread that gives life."
Jesus Makes A House Call
Some of us remember when the family doctor hitched up his horse to a buggy and traveled through the worst kinds of weather to make a house call on one of his sick patients. Today, however, with specialization and the ever-increasing public demand for medical services, this is a drama lost from the American scene.
In this miracle story, our Lord makes a house call. This was not his usual practice. In most cases, patients were carried to him, as today we go to our doctor's office. In some cases Jesus healed from a distance people who were ill at home, without himself going to them. In this situation Jairus begs him to go to his home where his little girl is seriously ill. Mark records that Jesus went with him.
For many interpreters of our miracle this little fact has "deep and significant meaning." Most of us are aware that Christ is present in the church when the worshipers gather each Sunday morning to praise and thank God. We may go to the empty church in time of stress to pray privately because somehow we sense the divine presence within the hallowed walls of "God's House."
Wallace points out, "There is something else that we have yet to discover. He comes here (the church) not only to be able to meet us for a 'brief hour,' but also in order to be able to go with us. He is here so that we can ask him to accompany us on our way home, and on our way into the midst of our trials and anxieties and temptations as he accompanied Jairus."5
This is a word of real comfort for us all and gives the human dimension of the Incarnation a home-like setting in our daily lives. God became flesh not simply to die for us, but in order that he might live with us, enter into the most ordinary events of our daily lives. He goes with us into the factory and mill, the office and the supermarket, the school and the shop. He is where we are; and he is there when we need him most.
The major events of our Lord's life centered about ordinary things: a trough, a tree, a trumpet. A feed trough in a cattle barn was his cradle. A tree in the shape of a cross where he suffered stood on a hill beside a garbage dump. The trumpets of Easter with their marvelous message sounded forth from a tomb in a cemetery. These great events of revelation happened not in the holy sanctuary of a church but in the most ordinary and mundane locations of common life -- a barn, a garbage dump, a cemetery.
When Jairus begged our Lord to go home with him, there was no hesitation. Jesus laid down no conditions. Our Lord knew only there was a need, so Jesus went home with Jairus.
Tormenting Delay
No sooner had Jesus started off with Jairus than a woman in the crowd touched Jesus to steal a miracle from him. Our Lord stopped. Some tense moments followed. Jesus spent precious time finding the one who had touched him. Once identified, the woman confessed all and received the full blessing of a complete healing. All this took time -- valuable, critical moments that might mean the difference between life and death for Jairus' daughter.
It is not difficult to imagine what must have gone through Jairus' mind. He was fearfully anxious for his daughter's life and now this tormenting delay. Even now it might be too late.
Jairus was beside himself with nervous tension and frustration. But he waited. What else could he do? Viewing this story as a whole, we know that the delay was not decisive. Jesus had the situation well in hand, as he always does.
How many times do we, like Jairus, find ourselves in such a situation? We have a serious problem or a tormenting trouble facing us. We knock and the door does not open. We seek and do not find. We ask and are not given. We plead to our Lord and our prayers are not immediately answered.
At such times we need to remind ourselves of the lesson Jairus learned that day, namely, trust in the Lord, don't rush or push him. He will in his own time accomplish what we need and fulfill our proper desires.
Once there was a king whose only son was seriously ill. The court physicians told the king there was a master of medicine in the East who had the only remedy known to cure the boy's rare disease. The king immediately sent word and implored the medical man to come and cure his son. He agreed.
Anxiously each day the king waited, stood on the castle wall gazing out to sea in hope of sighting the ship from the East. Finally it was sighted and in his excited desperation, the king sent out his navy to urge the approaching ship to greater speed. But frightened by the sight of an armed fleet, and thinking the king's son had died and the ruler was seeking revenge, the approaching ship turned and sailed away.
A few days later, realizing they were not pursued by the king's navy, the ship again returned to the harbor. Once more the impatient king blundered. Completely ignorant of navigation, he gave the wrong signals and the incoming ship was caught in an adverse current and swept back out to sea.
Finally his advisers convinced the king to let the ship arrive in its own way. The king followed their advice,was patient, and no longer interfered. The ship reached the harbor. The remedy was administered to the ailing prince and he was at once cured.
This story is an illustration of the fact that the less we interfere with God's actions the better. He will in his own time, and in his own way, meet our needs, and fulfill our proper desires. Trust God, and all will be well.
So it was Jairus. The tormenting delay did not affect the positive outcome of our miracle story. In the end the little girl was given back to her father as strong and as healthy as ever before.
A Dilemma
The front line in the fight of faith is in many cases not a border between doubt and belief, but it is on a fence located between two possible solutions and is called a "dilemma."
A dilemma is defined as "a choice between alternatives." It is like literally being on a fence trying to decide which way to jump.
One evening a middle-aged man came across a young man climbing up on the railing of a bridge, preparing to jump into the river. The man caught hold of the boy and asked him why he wanted to kill himself. The young man answered, "Life isn't worth living." Then followed a lengthy conversation with both talking at the same time and neither listening to the other. Finally the man said, "Tell you what, give me five minutes to tell you why life is worth living. Then I'll give you give minutes to tell me why life isn't worth living. If at the end of ten minutes, you still want to end your life, I won't stop you."
The young man agreed. Each spoke his allotted time, and at the end of ten minutes, both men climbed up onto the railing and jumped into the river.
Life is somehow like this; given equal time, pessimism seems always to win out over optimism. People tend to believe the worst.
The question of our miracle story is: Would this prove true in the case of Jairus? He was soon to find himself squarely on the fence of a decisive dilemma and the final outcome of the story depends on which way he decides to jump.
When Jesus had cured the woman with the issue of blood and had given her the blessing, "Go in peace," he turned back to Jairus ready to continue their journey. At that very moment some people arrived from Jairus' house with the sad message, "Your daughter has died." Then they add the pessimistic note, "Bother the teacher no longer."
Jairus was shocked, he felt faint, his single thread of hope had suddenly snapped. Jesus, however, ignored the messengers. As Hendricksen so aptly puts it, "With majestic calmness he refused completely to lend an ear to the heralds of doom, the messengers of despair."6
Our Lord looked Jairus straight in the eye and said, "Don't be afraid, only believe." It is the typical message of our Lord flowing from the divine optimism of God.
Jairus was understandably confused. His original request to Jesus had been based on the belief that this young man of God had the power to heal his daughter. Now he was being asked to trust in Jesus' power to raise the dead.
What should he do? Whom should he listen to? On the one hand was the plain, practical, but pessimistic message of his friends, "It's all over; your daughter is dead!" On the other hand was the hopeful and optimistic word from Jesus, "Fear not. Only believe!"
On either side of his dilemma-fence were those who wanted to help. His friends were natural-born pessimists, but they were also practical men of common sense. They were decent men and had no desire to intentionally hurt Jairus. They took no joy in being the bearers of bad news.
These men wanted Jairus, according to Wallace, to "face up to life with all its stark realities, and with all the possibilities it holds of failure and death. Face it bravely and squarely. If you have had it, you have had it, and you must take it like a man."7
Sherman Johnson sees here a "touch of dramatic irony; they do not realize the depths of Jesus' compassion which is that of God, or his power to act even when everything seems lost."8
On the other hand stood Christ. He had heard the same message Jairus had heard, that the girl was dead; yet he still persisted in continuing the journey of healing. It could mean only one thing; this Jesus of Nazareth was making the claim that his help did not cease at the point of death. This was a fantastic assumption. No man could raise the dead.
If Jairus listened to Jesus and followed him home, would he be opening himself up to ridicule by his friends and public accusations that he was a stupid fool -- a religious radical who in his moment of grief had gone mad? Jairus had to decide whether to follow the pessimistic but practical, common-sense way of the world that says "death" is the final word, or to follow after Jesus and the optimistic and fantastic claim that "death" is not the last word.
Is this not where we find ourselves? There is the practical common-sense point of view that death is the end. We have our day and then cease to be. As in a ball game, the whistle blows and it is all over. There is no chance to change the score or capture the trophy. This is the view of secular science that exercises such control over our thoughts and life. Existence is a natural biological process and death is the only and absolute end. It all sounds so much in agreement with our experiences of life and death.
Over against all the evidence that the pessimists are right, one optimistic promise is heard: "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will not die" (John 11:25, 26).
Our problem is not so much a matter of dispelling doubt as deciding whom to believe, whom to listen to. Our dilemma is increased because neither side can offer absolute proof -- evidence perhaps, but not proof. It finally comes down to taking that jump from the "dilemma-fence," leaping either in the direction of the world of common sense or in the direction of the Word of Christ our Savior.
The answer our miracle story gives is found in the action of Jairus. He decides to follow Jesus. His reaction is an interesting one. According to the record, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't argue with his friends. He doesn't make any great claim of faith or confession of belief to Jesus. Jairus simply jumps down from the fence of his dilemma and follows after Jesus.
Thereon hangs the thread of our story. In his hour of crisis, Jairus remains in the presence of Jesus. He may not fully believe that this strange young man can raise his daughter from the dead. He has made no commitment to faith in Christ's power to do the impossible. But he remains in the presence of Christ -- he follows after Jesus, and as we shall see later, this is decisive in understanding the meaning and message of the miracle story.
The Chosen Three
The first thing that Jesus does is to dismiss the crowd. Mark writes, "Then he did not let anyone go on with him except Peter, James, and his brother John." These were the same three Christ chose to experience the Transfiguration and to go with him to the Garden where he struggled in prayer with the reality of his coming crucifixion and death.
One explanation for this action of selecting just three of his disciples is that, in Jewish thought, based on the law, two or three witnesses were required to validate an event (Deuteronomy 19:15). The miracle event which was about to happen would thereby be validated, at least in the Jewish minds, by the presence of the three witnesses.
Lowrie sees this requirement for three witnesses reflected in the statement made in Matthew, "Where two or three come together in my name, I am there with them" (Matthew 18:20). This presents the viewpoint of most interpreters who see the presence of the chosen three as not only a validating of the miracle event, but Mark's way of assuring his readers that Christ was truly present when the daughter of Jairus was raised from the dead.
Here again we have a detail suggesting that the presence of Jesus is important to discovering the message and meaning of this miracle.
Another Crowd Dismissed
Jesus had just dismissed one crowd, then he arrived at the home of Jairus and encountered yet another. This was a crowd of professional mourners, minstrels, and concerned neighbors.
The Talmud and custom demanded that at the time of death the poorest Israelite should have at least two flute-players and at least one female mourner who would chant a lamentation for the dead. Alois Stoger tells us that "this was sung in the form of a responsory, to the accompaniment of hand clapping, the beat of tambourines and wooden clappers."9
W. M. Thomson remarks about these professional women mourners, "They know the domestic history of every person and immediately strike up an impromtu lamentation, in which they introduce the names of their relatives who have recently died, touching some tender chord in every heart."10
The flute-players, or as Matthew refers to them, "the minstrels," were an integral part of mourning in every country in ancient times. The number of howling women mourners, flute-players, tambourines, and clappers increased in proportion to the wealth and social standing of the grieving family. Since Jairus was a rich and influential leader in the community, what greeted Jesus as he approached the house must have been sheer pandemonium. As one of my students described it, "It sounded much like a gathering of hard-rock groups at a festival in Woodstock."
How Jesus ever brought all this confusion, loud crying, and wailing to a halt would seem like a minor miracle in itself. But he did. And he sent them all away.
Some have interpreted Jesus' sending the mourners away as an attack on the extremes of contemporary funeral arrangements and practices, where the realities of death are not honestly faced but expensively avoided. They point out that undertakers are trained to hide and disguise the reality of death. Artificiality is the mark of their professional skill to make the dead look alive. We respond to their successful efforts with the approving comment, "They look so natural."
Cemeteries become parks of green lawns, or slumber rooms where soft music creates an atmosphere of tranquility and eternal bliss. No judgment here; only a comment that someone cares. Perpetual care comes to mean not a continuing concern but an embalmed moment, frozen in time, so that the state of one's existence is suspended in a non-real void somewhere between time and eternity -- a perpetual purgatory of preservation.
A case can be made that Jesus, in this action of driving the mourners from the house of Jairus, is attacking the artificial paraphernalia of mourning commonly used in his day. Obviously this is not a scene of honest grief but a spectacle -- a theatrical performance. Jesus deplores such, wherever and under whatever circumstances he uncovered "dead bones in white boxes."
Supporting this assumption that Jesus is making a social statement by his treatment of the mourners is the reaction of the mourners to his statement, "The child is not dead -- she is only sleeping." Matthew, Mark, and Luke all point out that immediately the mourners, "made fun of him." They ridiculed and laughed in his face.
Lane finds this significant. "The fact that wailing and tears could be exchanged so quickly for laughter indicates how conventional and artificial the mourning customs had become."11
Other interpreters have seen in Christ's driving the mourners from the scene the disapproval of our Lord for all forms of grief at the time of death. Barclay, for example, believes that one of the two "eternal truths" of this story is that there is no cause for mourning at the time of death. He says, "When someone dies it is natural and inevitable to be sad, but our sorrow is for ourselves and not for those who have died. If we believe that death is only a sleep from which we wake to be in heaven, we cannot be sorry for those who have died. So far from being sorry, we ought to be glad that they have entered into a far greater life."12
Today outward expressions of emotion are considered to be an important part of the grief process. They are the means by which we are enabled to accept the fact of death and adjust ourselves to the resulting loss of a loved one. It appears inconsistent with the total biblical witness that Jesus is here discouraging all human expressions of grief, for the shortest verse in the Bible tells us that at the death of his friend Lazarus "Jesus wept" (John 11:35).
When all the evidence is in, Schnackenburg would seem to present the most reasonable and acceptable interpretation of Jesus' reaction to the mourners. He does not see Jesus making any moral or ethical judgments on the grief process, nor presenting any "eternal truths" concerning a Christian reaction or attitude toward the experience of the death situation. Schnackenburg simply sees Jesus removing the wailing women and flute-players "for the purpose of performing the miracle in quietness and secret."13
Jesus had no intention of performing a miracle in front of a raucous crowd of unbelievers who ridiculed him and laughed in his face then, and he has no intention of doing so now. Miracles have meaning and a message only for those who, in faith, believe in him.
Little Girl! Get Up!
When the crowd left and only the chosen three disciples and Jairus remained, Jesus walked over to the bed where the child lay and said, "Talitha koum." Mark adds, "which means, 'Little girl! Get up, I tell you!' "
Scholars disagree about how this added translation of the Aramaic term is to be interpreted. Most of them believe Mark gives a Greek translation for the sake of his Roman readers who would not have understood the Aramaic. Others see the added translation as evidence that Jesus is using an incantation which was typical of the miracle workers of his day.
Origen, speaking to the question of why Mark adds the translation, points out that it is well known that spells and incantations lose their power when translated into another language. Mark is therefore prohibiting future faith healers from using this incantation for their own. Rawlinson agrees, "It is to guard against such an idea that the Evangelist deliberately translates them."14
Lane speaks against an "incantation-theory." He states, "There is no evidence that 'Talitha cumi' or 'Ephphatha' were ever used by Christian healers as a magical spell."15 In the light of Origen's comment, this is precisely the point. The words were never used by Christian healers as an incantation because the translation of these words by the Gospel writers made the words ineffective as incantations.
Hendriksen gives the most plausable interpretation to the use of the words "Talitha koum" by stating that our Lord was addressing the little girl in her own native tongue, "using the very words by means of which her mother had probably often awakened her in the morning, namely, 'Talitha koum.' "16
This interpretation agrees with and fits into the tender, home-like atmosphere which pervades the concluding aspects of the miracle story.
Not Dead -- Only Sleeping
The cause of all the laughter and ridicule by the professional mourners is that Jesus said, "The child is not dead -- she is only sleeping."
This word "sleep" has caused not laughter but serious concern for interpreters. Van der Loos says that, "The word used here occurs in the New Testament in three different meanings: it means sleep in the literal sense, sleep in the figurative sense, and sleep in the sense of being dead."17
The question is: What understanding of the word "sleep" did Jesus have in mind when he spoke this word, and what was Mark's understanding of the word when he recorded it? For many scholars this question is crucial because the issue of whether or not the child was actually dead when Christ entered the home depends upon the interpretation given to Jesus' and Mark's use of the word "sleep."
We could at this point in our discussion engage in a lengthy review of the many arguments put forth by scholars on both sides of the issue. But since even today with our mechanical "life support systems" and discussions of "clinical death" and "legal death," we cannot agree as to an exact definition of death, little would be gained by traveling through the critical discussions presented by the various interpreters.
There is little doubt Mark presents here a miracle of the raising of the dead. The issue of whether the child was actually dead or in a coma is beside the point for our purpose. Our concern is: what message and meaning does Jesus' raising of Jairus' daughter have for us today?
Presuppositions
Before considering the message of the miracle, two presuppositions should be established.
Triple Tradition
First, there are only three raisings of the dead in the four Gospels: the raising of Lazarus, the widow's son at Nain, and Jairus' daughter.
Laidlaw is convinced the miracle of Jairus' daughter "should take precedence in this group"18 because it alone belongs to the "Triple Tradition," meaning that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all have an account of the same miracle. Matthew's account is brief. Luke's record is somewhat longer. Mark presents the most detailed account. At the essential points of the story all three are in agreement as to what happened. All three present this as a miracle of raising a child from the state of death.
Resuscitation
The second presupposition is: The miracle of raising Jairus' daughter was not a resurrection from the dead, but a resuscitation back to life. The young girl is brought back to life as it was before she dies.
Edward Schweizer writes, "The resuscitation of a corpse and the person's return to what for all practical purposes is the same kind of an earthly life ... is the exact opposite of what the Bible calls resurrection -- re-creation by God to an existence which is entirely new."19
Resurrection as understood by the New Testament writers involves a radical change. As a caterpillar is changed into a butterfly, so we are changed. Our old body returns to the earth from which it came and we are given a new and glorified body. At the same time we are given a new life. God does not restore us to what we were; he makes of us a new creation.
Jesus, in speaking of his own death says, "The hour has now come for the Son of Man to be given great glory. I tell you the truth: a grain of wheat is no more than a single grain unless it is dropped into the ground and dies. If it does die then it produces many grains" (John 12:24). The picture of a seed buried in the ground and then emerging in the new shape and form of a tender plant is what is understood within the New Testament as the experience of dying and being given new life. As a seed differs from a flower, so our present bodies will differ from the glorified body we are to receive.
This was not true in the case of Jairus' daughter. Her experience was not that of sprouting forth in a new form to live a new life. When raised from the dead by Jesus, Jairus' daughter resumed her previous life with all its limitations, including the necessity of eventually facing death and dying again.
What we have therefore in this miracle is an example of life restored and not an experience of the resurrection. At best, the event is, in the words of Schnackenburg, a "symbolic imitation"20 of the coming resurrection event, but not an experience of it.
The miracle of Christ's raising the daughter of Jairus is a sign that Christ has power over death, but it is not a revelation that Christ has overcome death. The defeat of death is alone accomplished by the cross-event and the resurrection-experience of Easter morn.
We have the promise of eternal life not because Christ has power over death, as exhibitied in the miracle of Jairus' daughter; rather we are given new life by the cross and Resurrection where Christ overcomes death itself. It is at the cross on a hill and from an empty tomb in a garden that our promise of resurrection and new life are given to us.
In this miracle story, Jairus' daughter is resuscitated and thus must die again. In the miracle of the cross and resurrection, we are resurrected and shall never die, but have life eternally with God. This is a decisive difference.
The Presence
Then what does this miracle story say to us? In general, it points to the vital importance of the presence of Christ if we are to experience and possess life. Christ says, "I am the life"; and because he is life, we can have life.
The miracle story shows that Christ takes death seriously. He understands Jairus' concern for his daughter. Our Lord responds to this father's plea for help and goes with him all the way. When the negative message comes that the girl is dead and the friends of Jairus attempt to persuade him that the death is final, Jesus stands with Jairus and comforts and encourages him with a word of hope, "Don't be afraid, only believe."
Jesus does not stop with a word of promise. He acts. He accompanies Jairus to his home, right into the midst of all the stark realities, the clamor and confusion of the death situation. Our Lord sends the wailing mourners away with the word that she is not dead -- only asleep. Our Lord remains with Jairus, enters with him into the room where death has driven its deadly blow. Jesus takes the girl by the hand and speaks, "Little girl. Get up, I tell you." The girl gets up and walks around.
Then Mark says, "They were completely amazed." Even in the midst of this amazement, Jesus still remains with the family and gives the practical advice to feed the child.
The one consistent and continuing thread that runs through this miracle story is that Jesus is present with Jairus during the entire ordeal -- the serious illness with its threat of death, the experience of death, and then of life restored.
Life Before And After Death
The meaning received from this miracle is a twofold message. It speaks of the effect the presence of Christ has on our life before as well as after death.
Life After Death
First the miracle is a sign indicating that as we know Jesus as our Lord and Savior we shall one day know him as the Cosmic Christ. When we face death and are placed in the grave, we will be raised up at the Day of Resurrection and recognize that our Lord has overcome the last and greatest enemy of God, death. And by this victory we are not only given a new and resurrected life, but the whole world has become a new creation.
This is as yet but a promise, a certain hope, an assurance that for us, who are in Christ Jesus, there is a glorified life after death, and we shall live it in a newly-created world.
As important as this promise of a new life and a new creation is, in the miracle of the raising of Jairus' daughter, it is the secondary meaning. The primary message is: there is life before death. For those who are in Christ, there is life not only after death but before death.
Life Before Death
The fact has been stressed that the raising of Jairus' daughter was an event of resuscitation, not an event of resurrection. As the meaning of this miracle possesses a twofold message, so we face a twofold problem. There is the problem of what happens to us after we die, but also the problem of what happens to us before we die.
We may experience a twofold death. There is the final, physical death of the body that we must all face. But there is also the possibility of being dead before we die. It is the experience of only existing but not really living. Existence is meaningless without purpose. It is lonely and desperate without hope. We walk through life as if we were already dead, for we are not living, only existing.
Alexander King has written a book titled Is There Life After Birth? This has been the perplexing question of the existentialists, who for the most part have concluded the existential answer is "No!" Life has no inherent value. Life is meaningless, leading nowhere. We begin dying the moment we are born and all life is death.
One of my students tells about his little boy who got the words of his bedtime prayer mixed up. One night he said, "If I should wake before I die." For many people this is the prayer that plagues their daily life of desperation and drudgery. They ask, "When shall I awake from this nightmare of trouble and suffering? Will I ever get a chance to really live before I die?"
A new lady in the community visited a local church. The topic of the pastor's sermon was "Will we know each other in heaven?" After the service nobody spoke to the visitor, acknowledged her, or even noticed that she was there. When she got home, she wrote a short note to the minister of the church:
Last Sunday I attended your church and listened attentively to your sermon. I heard all that you said, but after what I experienced, being a stranger in your congregation, I suggest that next Sunday you preach on the topic "Will we know each other here on earth?"
Loneliness can be a kind of living death, as can heartache, meaninglessness, depression, disappointment, and suffering. The feeling of being useless, unwanted, and unloved can often be worse than actual death. Our miracle story speaks to this kind of death. It says the presence of Christ promises us not only a resurrection from the grave of final death, but also a resuscitation from a lifeless existence before death. It is a promise that there is life both before and after death.
This is a great comfort to all of us who are searching to find life before we die. At the same time, it is a challenge to us as church congregations to create an atmosphere in which people might come and experience the presence of a Lord who loves the lonely, the unloved, the troubled. We create such an atmosphere when we extend the hand of friendship and concern to every stranger who comes among us.
This does not mean that sometimes contrived bit of action of turning around and shaking-hands-with-your-neighbor, sometimes called "the Peace." There is nothing wrong with this, except when it becomes a substitute, as it often does, for a sincere openness on the part of the congregation to warmly greet and welcome strangers within its midst.
As we have stressed above, the presence of Christ with Jairus all through his troubles is the vital thread which holds the miracle story together. This presence of Christ today is communicated to those outside of Christ by those who are within Christ. The church is today the Body of Christ. We need to make our Lord's presence known in the lives of others by our sincere concern and care for them, particularly when they, like Jairus, are faced with humbling circumstances -- loneliness, depression, disappointment, suffering, and the frightening fear of death.
In a small mid-western town, a man was found dead in a deserted alley. The police quickly apprehended a man running away from the scene of the crime and he was brought to trial. The defense attorney took a most unusual approach. He challenged the State to prove that a person had actually been murdered by producing the identity of the murdered victim.
The State responded immediately, attempting to identify the victim. After months of delays and postponements, the State finally admitted to the court they could not identify the murdered man, or prove by any witnesses that the man had ever been alive. The judge dismissed the case until such time as the victim could be identified.
During the lengthy and unusual trial, the newspapers referred to it as "The Case of the Dead Man Who Never Lived."
Is this not the sad and tragic epitaph of so many people -- people we pass by every day on the streets, and in our offices, and in the stores where we shop, and perhaps even in the places where we worship? They will die without ever having lived. Why? Because we failed to share with them the presence of the living Lord.
Paul writes, "For me to live is Christ." That is the primary message of our miracle story: the presence of Christ and his promise that there is life before as well as after death. For all who surrender and trust in the Lord, to them is given life, an abundant, full, meaningful life, both now before death and later after death.
But for the Jairuses and little girls ill at home today, how shall they come to know the presence of Christ if we are silent and fail to share with them that presence of the living Lord so freely given to us? Pray God that somehow through us a few more might come to know Christ and experience life before as well as after death.
____________
1. Walter Lowrie, Jesus According to St. Mark (London: Longmans, Green and Company, 1929), p. 219.
2. William Barclay, And He Had Compassion (Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1975), p. 105.
3. D. E. Nineham, The Gospel of St. Mark, The Pelican Commentaries (New York: The Seabury Press, 1963), p. 157.
4. Ronald S. Wallace, The Gospel Miracles (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Comany, 1960), p. 75.
5. Ibid., p. 74.
6. William Hendriksen, Exposition of the Gospel According to Mark, New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House, 1975), p. 211.
7. Wallace, op. cit., p. 224.
8. Sherman Johnson, A Commentary on the Gospel According to St. Mark (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1960), p. 108.
9. Lowrie, op. cit., p. 224.
10. Alois Stoger, The Gospel According to St. Luke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 165.
11. W. M. Thompson, The Land and the Book, quoted in Barclay, op. cit., p. 103.
12. William L. Lane, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1974), p. 197.
13. Barclay, op. cit., p. 113.
14. Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel According to St. Mark (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), p. 93.
15. A. E. J. Rawlinson, St. Mark (London: Methuen and Company, Ltd., 1942), p. 72.
16. Lane, op. cit., p. 198.
17. Hendriksen, op. cit., p. 214.
18. H. Van der Loos, The Miracles of Jesus (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968), p. 568.
19. John Laidlaw, The Miracles of Our Lord (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House, 1956), p. 338.
20. Edward Schweizer, The Good News According to Mark (Atlanta, Georgia: John Knox Press, 1976), p. 121.
This is a story in which devotion and doctrine come together. It is an account of vivid contrasts -- human tenderness and profound theology.
It begins with a father's devoted concern for his little daughter and ends with our Lord's tender-hearted sensitivity to a restored child's need for food. Yet, at the same time, in contrast to this touching scene of human emotions, the miracle stands as a sign pointing to the most profound teaching of our faith -- the Resurrection, life's victory over death, and the promise of everlasting life.
Compassion is so often mushy, and theology is so often stuffy; but here in a single story the two extremes are woven together harmoniously into an unforgettable story. The human and the divine are combined, and though there are extreme differences involved, there is no resounding clash. For Christ is present and stands in the center of the story. He is the Word become flesh. He is the eternal Holy Word of God revealed in the warm-blooded flesh of the human.
Here in this miracle we are privileged to see "The Gentle Jesus" and "The Cosmic Christ"; our story proclaims that they are one.
The Setting
Jesus is now coming to the close of his Galilean ministry. He has healed the sick, given sight to the blind, healing to the deaf, hope to the poor and despised. He has proclaimed the Kingdom of God with a courageous conviction that has pleased many, but antagonized some.
He has reached great heights of popularity and at the same time threatened the power structure of the religious leaders who rule in high places. He has revised the Law and broken the sacred Sabbath. To say the least, he has become a controversial figure. To some he is a famous prophet, to others he is an infamous blasphemer.
As our story opens, Jesus is leaving the Eastern shores of Decapolis and sailing toward Capernaum. The lake is small, so the people on the other side soon see his boat and rush to the shore to greet him. And among them -- in fact out in front of them all -- is a frantic father, Jairus by name, who desperately desires Jesus to help his seriously-ill child.
Jairus
Jairus was ruler of the local synagogue; because of this we can safely assume he was rich, respected, and religious. There is disagreement among interpreters, however, about his exact attitude toward Jesus. We know that, at the time of this miracle story, our Lord had incurred the hatred of many religious leaders. Again and again he had ignored and actually defied the Law by healing on the Sabbath. Hostility against him had become so serious that, prior to our story, Mark records (Mark 3:1-6) that when Jesus had healed the man with a crippled hand in the synagogue on the Sabbath, the Pharisees were furious. Mark ends the account, "So the Pharisees left the synagogue and met at once with some members of Herod's party, and made plans against Jesus to kill him."
Walter Lowrie believes, "Jairus belonged to a class of dignitaries which were generally hostile to Jesus. Jairus, if he was not himself a scribe, must have been in sympathy with the pharisaical party."1
Because of this, William Barclay describes Jairus as a man "who was prepared to swallow his pride. He was prepared to ask help from the man he had despised."2
Other interpreters like Hendriksen, Nineham, and Ronald Wallace recognize that not all the religious leaders shared the attitude of the Pharisees toward Jesus. Some listened to him and responded positively. As Nineham puts it, "There were those who, when trouble forced them to face realities, could not help admitting power and even begging for its exercise, with a public display of humility which showed that they really recognized its character and source."3
Ronald Wallace goes so far as to say, "It was faith that had brought Jairus to Jesus. He believed that this Teacher and Healer could do something for him in his need and despair."4
Even though his exact attitude toward Jesus is debated by interpreters, we do know from the plot of the story that Jairus was a devoted father and dearly loved his daughter. Therefore, he was deeply distressed because of her serious illness; so much so that he did an unusual thing for a man in his position. Mark says that when he saw Jesus he threw himself down at his feet and begged him as hard as he could to come and heal his daughter.
It was surprising to behold a man who was looked up to by everyone in the community assuming such an undignified and demeaning position before a young prophet who was in serious trouble with the Pharisees. No wonder Mark, Matthew, and Luke all stress the size of the crowd that thronged about Jesus that day. This was not something seen every day. This drama of Jairus kneeling before Jesus was an event that would make headlines in the daily papers in any age and draw a crowd in any community.
Remembering that Jairus was a rich man, who undoubtedly had utilized all the medical services and resources money could buy, explains to some extent the extraordinary lengths to which Jairus was willing to go. He realized all his prayers in the synagogue and all his influence and wealth accomplished nothing. Jesus was his last and only hope.
Sometimes when we think that money and power and influence can do everything, we need to remember Jairus. He was a man of privilege, but he knew the poverty of privilege when facing life's most perplexing problems. We might drown our sorrows in champagne and stuff ourselves with epicurean delights but still thirst and starve to death, if what we really need is "the water that ends thirst," and "the bread that gives life."
Jesus Makes A House Call
Some of us remember when the family doctor hitched up his horse to a buggy and traveled through the worst kinds of weather to make a house call on one of his sick patients. Today, however, with specialization and the ever-increasing public demand for medical services, this is a drama lost from the American scene.
In this miracle story, our Lord makes a house call. This was not his usual practice. In most cases, patients were carried to him, as today we go to our doctor's office. In some cases Jesus healed from a distance people who were ill at home, without himself going to them. In this situation Jairus begs him to go to his home where his little girl is seriously ill. Mark records that Jesus went with him.
For many interpreters of our miracle this little fact has "deep and significant meaning." Most of us are aware that Christ is present in the church when the worshipers gather each Sunday morning to praise and thank God. We may go to the empty church in time of stress to pray privately because somehow we sense the divine presence within the hallowed walls of "God's House."
Wallace points out, "There is something else that we have yet to discover. He comes here (the church) not only to be able to meet us for a 'brief hour,' but also in order to be able to go with us. He is here so that we can ask him to accompany us on our way home, and on our way into the midst of our trials and anxieties and temptations as he accompanied Jairus."5
This is a word of real comfort for us all and gives the human dimension of the Incarnation a home-like setting in our daily lives. God became flesh not simply to die for us, but in order that he might live with us, enter into the most ordinary events of our daily lives. He goes with us into the factory and mill, the office and the supermarket, the school and the shop. He is where we are; and he is there when we need him most.
The major events of our Lord's life centered about ordinary things: a trough, a tree, a trumpet. A feed trough in a cattle barn was his cradle. A tree in the shape of a cross where he suffered stood on a hill beside a garbage dump. The trumpets of Easter with their marvelous message sounded forth from a tomb in a cemetery. These great events of revelation happened not in the holy sanctuary of a church but in the most ordinary and mundane locations of common life -- a barn, a garbage dump, a cemetery.
When Jairus begged our Lord to go home with him, there was no hesitation. Jesus laid down no conditions. Our Lord knew only there was a need, so Jesus went home with Jairus.
Tormenting Delay
No sooner had Jesus started off with Jairus than a woman in the crowd touched Jesus to steal a miracle from him. Our Lord stopped. Some tense moments followed. Jesus spent precious time finding the one who had touched him. Once identified, the woman confessed all and received the full blessing of a complete healing. All this took time -- valuable, critical moments that might mean the difference between life and death for Jairus' daughter.
It is not difficult to imagine what must have gone through Jairus' mind. He was fearfully anxious for his daughter's life and now this tormenting delay. Even now it might be too late.
Jairus was beside himself with nervous tension and frustration. But he waited. What else could he do? Viewing this story as a whole, we know that the delay was not decisive. Jesus had the situation well in hand, as he always does.
How many times do we, like Jairus, find ourselves in such a situation? We have a serious problem or a tormenting trouble facing us. We knock and the door does not open. We seek and do not find. We ask and are not given. We plead to our Lord and our prayers are not immediately answered.
At such times we need to remind ourselves of the lesson Jairus learned that day, namely, trust in the Lord, don't rush or push him. He will in his own time accomplish what we need and fulfill our proper desires.
Once there was a king whose only son was seriously ill. The court physicians told the king there was a master of medicine in the East who had the only remedy known to cure the boy's rare disease. The king immediately sent word and implored the medical man to come and cure his son. He agreed.
Anxiously each day the king waited, stood on the castle wall gazing out to sea in hope of sighting the ship from the East. Finally it was sighted and in his excited desperation, the king sent out his navy to urge the approaching ship to greater speed. But frightened by the sight of an armed fleet, and thinking the king's son had died and the ruler was seeking revenge, the approaching ship turned and sailed away.
A few days later, realizing they were not pursued by the king's navy, the ship again returned to the harbor. Once more the impatient king blundered. Completely ignorant of navigation, he gave the wrong signals and the incoming ship was caught in an adverse current and swept back out to sea.
Finally his advisers convinced the king to let the ship arrive in its own way. The king followed their advice,was patient, and no longer interfered. The ship reached the harbor. The remedy was administered to the ailing prince and he was at once cured.
This story is an illustration of the fact that the less we interfere with God's actions the better. He will in his own time, and in his own way, meet our needs, and fulfill our proper desires. Trust God, and all will be well.
So it was Jairus. The tormenting delay did not affect the positive outcome of our miracle story. In the end the little girl was given back to her father as strong and as healthy as ever before.
A Dilemma
The front line in the fight of faith is in many cases not a border between doubt and belief, but it is on a fence located between two possible solutions and is called a "dilemma."
A dilemma is defined as "a choice between alternatives." It is like literally being on a fence trying to decide which way to jump.
One evening a middle-aged man came across a young man climbing up on the railing of a bridge, preparing to jump into the river. The man caught hold of the boy and asked him why he wanted to kill himself. The young man answered, "Life isn't worth living." Then followed a lengthy conversation with both talking at the same time and neither listening to the other. Finally the man said, "Tell you what, give me five minutes to tell you why life is worth living. Then I'll give you give minutes to tell me why life isn't worth living. If at the end of ten minutes, you still want to end your life, I won't stop you."
The young man agreed. Each spoke his allotted time, and at the end of ten minutes, both men climbed up onto the railing and jumped into the river.
Life is somehow like this; given equal time, pessimism seems always to win out over optimism. People tend to believe the worst.
The question of our miracle story is: Would this prove true in the case of Jairus? He was soon to find himself squarely on the fence of a decisive dilemma and the final outcome of the story depends on which way he decides to jump.
When Jesus had cured the woman with the issue of blood and had given her the blessing, "Go in peace," he turned back to Jairus ready to continue their journey. At that very moment some people arrived from Jairus' house with the sad message, "Your daughter has died." Then they add the pessimistic note, "Bother the teacher no longer."
Jairus was shocked, he felt faint, his single thread of hope had suddenly snapped. Jesus, however, ignored the messengers. As Hendricksen so aptly puts it, "With majestic calmness he refused completely to lend an ear to the heralds of doom, the messengers of despair."6
Our Lord looked Jairus straight in the eye and said, "Don't be afraid, only believe." It is the typical message of our Lord flowing from the divine optimism of God.
Jairus was understandably confused. His original request to Jesus had been based on the belief that this young man of God had the power to heal his daughter. Now he was being asked to trust in Jesus' power to raise the dead.
What should he do? Whom should he listen to? On the one hand was the plain, practical, but pessimistic message of his friends, "It's all over; your daughter is dead!" On the other hand was the hopeful and optimistic word from Jesus, "Fear not. Only believe!"
On either side of his dilemma-fence were those who wanted to help. His friends were natural-born pessimists, but they were also practical men of common sense. They were decent men and had no desire to intentionally hurt Jairus. They took no joy in being the bearers of bad news.
These men wanted Jairus, according to Wallace, to "face up to life with all its stark realities, and with all the possibilities it holds of failure and death. Face it bravely and squarely. If you have had it, you have had it, and you must take it like a man."7
Sherman Johnson sees here a "touch of dramatic irony; they do not realize the depths of Jesus' compassion which is that of God, or his power to act even when everything seems lost."8
On the other hand stood Christ. He had heard the same message Jairus had heard, that the girl was dead; yet he still persisted in continuing the journey of healing. It could mean only one thing; this Jesus of Nazareth was making the claim that his help did not cease at the point of death. This was a fantastic assumption. No man could raise the dead.
If Jairus listened to Jesus and followed him home, would he be opening himself up to ridicule by his friends and public accusations that he was a stupid fool -- a religious radical who in his moment of grief had gone mad? Jairus had to decide whether to follow the pessimistic but practical, common-sense way of the world that says "death" is the final word, or to follow after Jesus and the optimistic and fantastic claim that "death" is not the last word.
Is this not where we find ourselves? There is the practical common-sense point of view that death is the end. We have our day and then cease to be. As in a ball game, the whistle blows and it is all over. There is no chance to change the score or capture the trophy. This is the view of secular science that exercises such control over our thoughts and life. Existence is a natural biological process and death is the only and absolute end. It all sounds so much in agreement with our experiences of life and death.
Over against all the evidence that the pessimists are right, one optimistic promise is heard: "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will not die" (John 11:25, 26).
Our problem is not so much a matter of dispelling doubt as deciding whom to believe, whom to listen to. Our dilemma is increased because neither side can offer absolute proof -- evidence perhaps, but not proof. It finally comes down to taking that jump from the "dilemma-fence," leaping either in the direction of the world of common sense or in the direction of the Word of Christ our Savior.
The answer our miracle story gives is found in the action of Jairus. He decides to follow Jesus. His reaction is an interesting one. According to the record, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't argue with his friends. He doesn't make any great claim of faith or confession of belief to Jesus. Jairus simply jumps down from the fence of his dilemma and follows after Jesus.
Thereon hangs the thread of our story. In his hour of crisis, Jairus remains in the presence of Jesus. He may not fully believe that this strange young man can raise his daughter from the dead. He has made no commitment to faith in Christ's power to do the impossible. But he remains in the presence of Christ -- he follows after Jesus, and as we shall see later, this is decisive in understanding the meaning and message of the miracle story.
The Chosen Three
The first thing that Jesus does is to dismiss the crowd. Mark writes, "Then he did not let anyone go on with him except Peter, James, and his brother John." These were the same three Christ chose to experience the Transfiguration and to go with him to the Garden where he struggled in prayer with the reality of his coming crucifixion and death.
One explanation for this action of selecting just three of his disciples is that, in Jewish thought, based on the law, two or three witnesses were required to validate an event (Deuteronomy 19:15). The miracle event which was about to happen would thereby be validated, at least in the Jewish minds, by the presence of the three witnesses.
Lowrie sees this requirement for three witnesses reflected in the statement made in Matthew, "Where two or three come together in my name, I am there with them" (Matthew 18:20). This presents the viewpoint of most interpreters who see the presence of the chosen three as not only a validating of the miracle event, but Mark's way of assuring his readers that Christ was truly present when the daughter of Jairus was raised from the dead.
Here again we have a detail suggesting that the presence of Jesus is important to discovering the message and meaning of this miracle.
Another Crowd Dismissed
Jesus had just dismissed one crowd, then he arrived at the home of Jairus and encountered yet another. This was a crowd of professional mourners, minstrels, and concerned neighbors.
The Talmud and custom demanded that at the time of death the poorest Israelite should have at least two flute-players and at least one female mourner who would chant a lamentation for the dead. Alois Stoger tells us that "this was sung in the form of a responsory, to the accompaniment of hand clapping, the beat of tambourines and wooden clappers."9
W. M. Thomson remarks about these professional women mourners, "They know the domestic history of every person and immediately strike up an impromtu lamentation, in which they introduce the names of their relatives who have recently died, touching some tender chord in every heart."10
The flute-players, or as Matthew refers to them, "the minstrels," were an integral part of mourning in every country in ancient times. The number of howling women mourners, flute-players, tambourines, and clappers increased in proportion to the wealth and social standing of the grieving family. Since Jairus was a rich and influential leader in the community, what greeted Jesus as he approached the house must have been sheer pandemonium. As one of my students described it, "It sounded much like a gathering of hard-rock groups at a festival in Woodstock."
How Jesus ever brought all this confusion, loud crying, and wailing to a halt would seem like a minor miracle in itself. But he did. And he sent them all away.
Some have interpreted Jesus' sending the mourners away as an attack on the extremes of contemporary funeral arrangements and practices, where the realities of death are not honestly faced but expensively avoided. They point out that undertakers are trained to hide and disguise the reality of death. Artificiality is the mark of their professional skill to make the dead look alive. We respond to their successful efforts with the approving comment, "They look so natural."
Cemeteries become parks of green lawns, or slumber rooms where soft music creates an atmosphere of tranquility and eternal bliss. No judgment here; only a comment that someone cares. Perpetual care comes to mean not a continuing concern but an embalmed moment, frozen in time, so that the state of one's existence is suspended in a non-real void somewhere between time and eternity -- a perpetual purgatory of preservation.
A case can be made that Jesus, in this action of driving the mourners from the house of Jairus, is attacking the artificial paraphernalia of mourning commonly used in his day. Obviously this is not a scene of honest grief but a spectacle -- a theatrical performance. Jesus deplores such, wherever and under whatever circumstances he uncovered "dead bones in white boxes."
Supporting this assumption that Jesus is making a social statement by his treatment of the mourners is the reaction of the mourners to his statement, "The child is not dead -- she is only sleeping." Matthew, Mark, and Luke all point out that immediately the mourners, "made fun of him." They ridiculed and laughed in his face.
Lane finds this significant. "The fact that wailing and tears could be exchanged so quickly for laughter indicates how conventional and artificial the mourning customs had become."11
Other interpreters have seen in Christ's driving the mourners from the scene the disapproval of our Lord for all forms of grief at the time of death. Barclay, for example, believes that one of the two "eternal truths" of this story is that there is no cause for mourning at the time of death. He says, "When someone dies it is natural and inevitable to be sad, but our sorrow is for ourselves and not for those who have died. If we believe that death is only a sleep from which we wake to be in heaven, we cannot be sorry for those who have died. So far from being sorry, we ought to be glad that they have entered into a far greater life."12
Today outward expressions of emotion are considered to be an important part of the grief process. They are the means by which we are enabled to accept the fact of death and adjust ourselves to the resulting loss of a loved one. It appears inconsistent with the total biblical witness that Jesus is here discouraging all human expressions of grief, for the shortest verse in the Bible tells us that at the death of his friend Lazarus "Jesus wept" (John 11:35).
When all the evidence is in, Schnackenburg would seem to present the most reasonable and acceptable interpretation of Jesus' reaction to the mourners. He does not see Jesus making any moral or ethical judgments on the grief process, nor presenting any "eternal truths" concerning a Christian reaction or attitude toward the experience of the death situation. Schnackenburg simply sees Jesus removing the wailing women and flute-players "for the purpose of performing the miracle in quietness and secret."13
Jesus had no intention of performing a miracle in front of a raucous crowd of unbelievers who ridiculed him and laughed in his face then, and he has no intention of doing so now. Miracles have meaning and a message only for those who, in faith, believe in him.
Little Girl! Get Up!
When the crowd left and only the chosen three disciples and Jairus remained, Jesus walked over to the bed where the child lay and said, "Talitha koum." Mark adds, "which means, 'Little girl! Get up, I tell you!' "
Scholars disagree about how this added translation of the Aramaic term is to be interpreted. Most of them believe Mark gives a Greek translation for the sake of his Roman readers who would not have understood the Aramaic. Others see the added translation as evidence that Jesus is using an incantation which was typical of the miracle workers of his day.
Origen, speaking to the question of why Mark adds the translation, points out that it is well known that spells and incantations lose their power when translated into another language. Mark is therefore prohibiting future faith healers from using this incantation for their own. Rawlinson agrees, "It is to guard against such an idea that the Evangelist deliberately translates them."14
Lane speaks against an "incantation-theory." He states, "There is no evidence that 'Talitha cumi' or 'Ephphatha' were ever used by Christian healers as a magical spell."15 In the light of Origen's comment, this is precisely the point. The words were never used by Christian healers as an incantation because the translation of these words by the Gospel writers made the words ineffective as incantations.
Hendriksen gives the most plausable interpretation to the use of the words "Talitha koum" by stating that our Lord was addressing the little girl in her own native tongue, "using the very words by means of which her mother had probably often awakened her in the morning, namely, 'Talitha koum.' "16
This interpretation agrees with and fits into the tender, home-like atmosphere which pervades the concluding aspects of the miracle story.
Not Dead -- Only Sleeping
The cause of all the laughter and ridicule by the professional mourners is that Jesus said, "The child is not dead -- she is only sleeping."
This word "sleep" has caused not laughter but serious concern for interpreters. Van der Loos says that, "The word used here occurs in the New Testament in three different meanings: it means sleep in the literal sense, sleep in the figurative sense, and sleep in the sense of being dead."17
The question is: What understanding of the word "sleep" did Jesus have in mind when he spoke this word, and what was Mark's understanding of the word when he recorded it? For many scholars this question is crucial because the issue of whether or not the child was actually dead when Christ entered the home depends upon the interpretation given to Jesus' and Mark's use of the word "sleep."
We could at this point in our discussion engage in a lengthy review of the many arguments put forth by scholars on both sides of the issue. But since even today with our mechanical "life support systems" and discussions of "clinical death" and "legal death," we cannot agree as to an exact definition of death, little would be gained by traveling through the critical discussions presented by the various interpreters.
There is little doubt Mark presents here a miracle of the raising of the dead. The issue of whether the child was actually dead or in a coma is beside the point for our purpose. Our concern is: what message and meaning does Jesus' raising of Jairus' daughter have for us today?
Presuppositions
Before considering the message of the miracle, two presuppositions should be established.
Triple Tradition
First, there are only three raisings of the dead in the four Gospels: the raising of Lazarus, the widow's son at Nain, and Jairus' daughter.
Laidlaw is convinced the miracle of Jairus' daughter "should take precedence in this group"18 because it alone belongs to the "Triple Tradition," meaning that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all have an account of the same miracle. Matthew's account is brief. Luke's record is somewhat longer. Mark presents the most detailed account. At the essential points of the story all three are in agreement as to what happened. All three present this as a miracle of raising a child from the state of death.
Resuscitation
The second presupposition is: The miracle of raising Jairus' daughter was not a resurrection from the dead, but a resuscitation back to life. The young girl is brought back to life as it was before she dies.
Edward Schweizer writes, "The resuscitation of a corpse and the person's return to what for all practical purposes is the same kind of an earthly life ... is the exact opposite of what the Bible calls resurrection -- re-creation by God to an existence which is entirely new."19
Resurrection as understood by the New Testament writers involves a radical change. As a caterpillar is changed into a butterfly, so we are changed. Our old body returns to the earth from which it came and we are given a new and glorified body. At the same time we are given a new life. God does not restore us to what we were; he makes of us a new creation.
Jesus, in speaking of his own death says, "The hour has now come for the Son of Man to be given great glory. I tell you the truth: a grain of wheat is no more than a single grain unless it is dropped into the ground and dies. If it does die then it produces many grains" (John 12:24). The picture of a seed buried in the ground and then emerging in the new shape and form of a tender plant is what is understood within the New Testament as the experience of dying and being given new life. As a seed differs from a flower, so our present bodies will differ from the glorified body we are to receive.
This was not true in the case of Jairus' daughter. Her experience was not that of sprouting forth in a new form to live a new life. When raised from the dead by Jesus, Jairus' daughter resumed her previous life with all its limitations, including the necessity of eventually facing death and dying again.
What we have therefore in this miracle is an example of life restored and not an experience of the resurrection. At best, the event is, in the words of Schnackenburg, a "symbolic imitation"20 of the coming resurrection event, but not an experience of it.
The miracle of Christ's raising the daughter of Jairus is a sign that Christ has power over death, but it is not a revelation that Christ has overcome death. The defeat of death is alone accomplished by the cross-event and the resurrection-experience of Easter morn.
We have the promise of eternal life not because Christ has power over death, as exhibitied in the miracle of Jairus' daughter; rather we are given new life by the cross and Resurrection where Christ overcomes death itself. It is at the cross on a hill and from an empty tomb in a garden that our promise of resurrection and new life are given to us.
In this miracle story, Jairus' daughter is resuscitated and thus must die again. In the miracle of the cross and resurrection, we are resurrected and shall never die, but have life eternally with God. This is a decisive difference.
The Presence
Then what does this miracle story say to us? In general, it points to the vital importance of the presence of Christ if we are to experience and possess life. Christ says, "I am the life"; and because he is life, we can have life.
The miracle story shows that Christ takes death seriously. He understands Jairus' concern for his daughter. Our Lord responds to this father's plea for help and goes with him all the way. When the negative message comes that the girl is dead and the friends of Jairus attempt to persuade him that the death is final, Jesus stands with Jairus and comforts and encourages him with a word of hope, "Don't be afraid, only believe."
Jesus does not stop with a word of promise. He acts. He accompanies Jairus to his home, right into the midst of all the stark realities, the clamor and confusion of the death situation. Our Lord sends the wailing mourners away with the word that she is not dead -- only asleep. Our Lord remains with Jairus, enters with him into the room where death has driven its deadly blow. Jesus takes the girl by the hand and speaks, "Little girl. Get up, I tell you." The girl gets up and walks around.
Then Mark says, "They were completely amazed." Even in the midst of this amazement, Jesus still remains with the family and gives the practical advice to feed the child.
The one consistent and continuing thread that runs through this miracle story is that Jesus is present with Jairus during the entire ordeal -- the serious illness with its threat of death, the experience of death, and then of life restored.
Life Before And After Death
The meaning received from this miracle is a twofold message. It speaks of the effect the presence of Christ has on our life before as well as after death.
Life After Death
First the miracle is a sign indicating that as we know Jesus as our Lord and Savior we shall one day know him as the Cosmic Christ. When we face death and are placed in the grave, we will be raised up at the Day of Resurrection and recognize that our Lord has overcome the last and greatest enemy of God, death. And by this victory we are not only given a new and resurrected life, but the whole world has become a new creation.
This is as yet but a promise, a certain hope, an assurance that for us, who are in Christ Jesus, there is a glorified life after death, and we shall live it in a newly-created world.
As important as this promise of a new life and a new creation is, in the miracle of the raising of Jairus' daughter, it is the secondary meaning. The primary message is: there is life before death. For those who are in Christ, there is life not only after death but before death.
Life Before Death
The fact has been stressed that the raising of Jairus' daughter was an event of resuscitation, not an event of resurrection. As the meaning of this miracle possesses a twofold message, so we face a twofold problem. There is the problem of what happens to us after we die, but also the problem of what happens to us before we die.
We may experience a twofold death. There is the final, physical death of the body that we must all face. But there is also the possibility of being dead before we die. It is the experience of only existing but not really living. Existence is meaningless without purpose. It is lonely and desperate without hope. We walk through life as if we were already dead, for we are not living, only existing.
Alexander King has written a book titled Is There Life After Birth? This has been the perplexing question of the existentialists, who for the most part have concluded the existential answer is "No!" Life has no inherent value. Life is meaningless, leading nowhere. We begin dying the moment we are born and all life is death.
One of my students tells about his little boy who got the words of his bedtime prayer mixed up. One night he said, "If I should wake before I die." For many people this is the prayer that plagues their daily life of desperation and drudgery. They ask, "When shall I awake from this nightmare of trouble and suffering? Will I ever get a chance to really live before I die?"
A new lady in the community visited a local church. The topic of the pastor's sermon was "Will we know each other in heaven?" After the service nobody spoke to the visitor, acknowledged her, or even noticed that she was there. When she got home, she wrote a short note to the minister of the church:
Last Sunday I attended your church and listened attentively to your sermon. I heard all that you said, but after what I experienced, being a stranger in your congregation, I suggest that next Sunday you preach on the topic "Will we know each other here on earth?"
Loneliness can be a kind of living death, as can heartache, meaninglessness, depression, disappointment, and suffering. The feeling of being useless, unwanted, and unloved can often be worse than actual death. Our miracle story speaks to this kind of death. It says the presence of Christ promises us not only a resurrection from the grave of final death, but also a resuscitation from a lifeless existence before death. It is a promise that there is life both before and after death.
This is a great comfort to all of us who are searching to find life before we die. At the same time, it is a challenge to us as church congregations to create an atmosphere in which people might come and experience the presence of a Lord who loves the lonely, the unloved, the troubled. We create such an atmosphere when we extend the hand of friendship and concern to every stranger who comes among us.
This does not mean that sometimes contrived bit of action of turning around and shaking-hands-with-your-neighbor, sometimes called "the Peace." There is nothing wrong with this, except when it becomes a substitute, as it often does, for a sincere openness on the part of the congregation to warmly greet and welcome strangers within its midst.
As we have stressed above, the presence of Christ with Jairus all through his troubles is the vital thread which holds the miracle story together. This presence of Christ today is communicated to those outside of Christ by those who are within Christ. The church is today the Body of Christ. We need to make our Lord's presence known in the lives of others by our sincere concern and care for them, particularly when they, like Jairus, are faced with humbling circumstances -- loneliness, depression, disappointment, suffering, and the frightening fear of death.
In a small mid-western town, a man was found dead in a deserted alley. The police quickly apprehended a man running away from the scene of the crime and he was brought to trial. The defense attorney took a most unusual approach. He challenged the State to prove that a person had actually been murdered by producing the identity of the murdered victim.
The State responded immediately, attempting to identify the victim. After months of delays and postponements, the State finally admitted to the court they could not identify the murdered man, or prove by any witnesses that the man had ever been alive. The judge dismissed the case until such time as the victim could be identified.
During the lengthy and unusual trial, the newspapers referred to it as "The Case of the Dead Man Who Never Lived."
Is this not the sad and tragic epitaph of so many people -- people we pass by every day on the streets, and in our offices, and in the stores where we shop, and perhaps even in the places where we worship? They will die without ever having lived. Why? Because we failed to share with them the presence of the living Lord.
Paul writes, "For me to live is Christ." That is the primary message of our miracle story: the presence of Christ and his promise that there is life before as well as after death. For all who surrender and trust in the Lord, to them is given life, an abundant, full, meaningful life, both now before death and later after death.
But for the Jairuses and little girls ill at home today, how shall they come to know the presence of Christ if we are silent and fail to share with them that presence of the living Lord so freely given to us? Pray God that somehow through us a few more might come to know Christ and experience life before as well as after death.
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1. Walter Lowrie, Jesus According to St. Mark (London: Longmans, Green and Company, 1929), p. 219.
2. William Barclay, And He Had Compassion (Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1975), p. 105.
3. D. E. Nineham, The Gospel of St. Mark, The Pelican Commentaries (New York: The Seabury Press, 1963), p. 157.
4. Ronald S. Wallace, The Gospel Miracles (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Comany, 1960), p. 75.
5. Ibid., p. 74.
6. William Hendriksen, Exposition of the Gospel According to Mark, New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House, 1975), p. 211.
7. Wallace, op. cit., p. 224.
8. Sherman Johnson, A Commentary on the Gospel According to St. Mark (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1960), p. 108.
9. Lowrie, op. cit., p. 224.
10. Alois Stoger, The Gospel According to St. Luke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 165.
11. W. M. Thompson, The Land and the Book, quoted in Barclay, op. cit., p. 103.
12. William L. Lane, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1974), p. 197.
13. Barclay, op. cit., p. 113.
14. Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel According to St. Mark (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), p. 93.
15. A. E. J. Rawlinson, St. Mark (London: Methuen and Company, Ltd., 1942), p. 72.
16. Lane, op. cit., p. 198.
17. Hendriksen, op. cit., p. 214.
18. H. Van der Loos, The Miracles of Jesus (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968), p. 568.
19. John Laidlaw, The Miracles of Our Lord (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House, 1956), p. 338.
20. Edward Schweizer, The Good News According to Mark (Atlanta, Georgia: John Knox Press, 1976), p. 121.
