After the calming of the wind and the waves
in the middle of Lake Galilee
and his healing of the man possessed by a demon
on the Gentile side of the lake,

Jesus returns to the western shore
- the land of Jewish people and Jewish laws.

As he steps ashore from the boat,
there awaits a leader of the Synagogue
in terrible agony.

Jairus falls at the feet of Jesus
- something not easily done by a Jew
and begs him to go with him,
for his little girl is dying.

So, Jesus goes.
God cares about his people
who come to him in pain.

At this point in the lectionary
we have the option of skipping
a second story woven into the first.
Today, I read it all,
for the use of these stories together
gives us a clearer insight
into what Mark is saying about Jesus
and, about us.

As Jairus, anxiously leads Jesus
through the streets of Capernaum
toward his dying daughter,
they are followed by a large crowd.

A woman, equally anxious,
slips into the moving body of people
and makes her way unnoticed up behind Jesus.

She had been suffering all her adult life
from hemorrhage
and had spent all her resources on physicians.

In our day, we would, perhaps,
be less offended by her, than pity her;
but in her culture
such a disorder rendered the sufferer
ritually unclean, all the time.

No one would allow her in his house.
No one would get within 10 feet of her intentionally

If they were touched
they, also, would become ritually contaminated
for a prescribed period of time.

She was disabled, and in fact dying
physically, emotionally, spiritually.

Then, she sees Jesus.
She has heard about him,
had seen him with other sufferers who trusted him.

Those witnesses gave her courage.

She carefully approaches Jesus from behind,
and quietly, but decisively
touches one of the tassels of his cloak.

To us, that seems sweet;
but in that culture it is a potential disaster.

The tassels were the reminder to any Jew
to keep the very set of laws
which, by touching him, she had broken.

She could expect the fury of any man
she so approached and touched.

She could expect no less from the crowd,
and especially the fury of Jairus,
the important official of the synagogue.

She might not survive this encounter
for her touch had by their law
contaminated Jesus.

He was by that law rendered ritually unclean
and unable to accompany Jairus further,
unable to enter his house,
unable to approach the dying girl.

Indeed, Jesus felt the touch, and rounded on her.
"Who touched me?" he asked.

The woman had felt the flow of blood stop
at the moment she risked touching him,
so she stepped forward,
fell on her knees,
and told him the truth.

He replied to that truth,
"Daughter, your faith has made you whole."

She is no longer just, "woman"
as she was called by Mark as the story began.

She is now, "daughter".

Jesus recognizes a relationship with her;
accepts her as a daughter of Abraham
and inheritor of the promises of God.

Her trust in approaching Jesus,
in spite of the likely consequences,
has placed her back in community
as well as healed her body.

Jesus has again shown himself to be
the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah,
that the blind shall see, the deaf hear,
and the lame shall leap for joy.

So it is that God restores us to relationship
and full humanity,
in spite of any ugliness and estrangement
we might feel.

That is what Jesus does best.

But, we still have a problem.
Just as Jesus is talking to her
some people have arrived and are listening.

These are not servants or members
of the Household of Jairus
but probably are synagogue members
who don't want Jairus to have anything
to do with this unprincipled Jesus character,
especially having just seen him
being contaminated by the woman
he now calls daughter.

"Trouble the teacher no further,"
they say with thinly veiled animosity,
"For, your daughter is dead."

Jesus then whispers to Jairus,
"Trust me."

He freezes the ill-wishers with a gaze
and, taking the disciples
who were there with them,
they continue with Jarius
to his household.

Jairus cares more about his daughter
than the dehumanizing rules of ritual uncleanness
with which he had lived all his life.

He trusts Jesus more
than he does his resentful friends.

When they arrive,
family, neighbors, and other synagogue members
are wailing loudly,
having given up on the girl.

Jesus asks them not to wail in mourning,
for all would be well;
and they laugh at him;
laugh at him!

So, he leaves them behind as well.

He takes the mom and dad
into the child's room
and says, "Get up now."
and she does,
and they gave her something to eat.

There was great joy
in that town that night.

In both of these stories
Jesus walks through minefields
set up by deceitful, fallen humanity
to get to us, in our fear and loneliness.

He ignores all false, dehumanizing precepts
and raging animosities
to bring us a restoring touch
a reconciling word.

Whether we are desperate parents
who have learned what is important, too late;

or a poverty stricken woman
in a man's world,
ostracized, and slowly bleeding to death;

or a little girl
listening to the wailing of those
who were having more fun mourning
than living,

Jesus can be trusted to risk himself
even on a cross
to make all things perfectly well
as only God can do.

One interesting part of these stories
is that all kinds of people
are left behind - for now.

Jesus can't take with him
the resentful among Jairus's friends
or the scoffers among the mourners.

Such people have the ability to disable
the power of God in the world.

Mark is clear about that
in next week's Gospel.

Yet, in each case,
a witness is left
to be present among the surrounding people
and to be an example of faithful living
for all to see.

When Jesus healed the water and stilled their fear
in the storm on Lake Galilee
the disciples were witnesses.

When he healed the demoniac
on the gentile side of the lake
Jesus told him to stay there in his community
as a witness to the wonders of God.

When he restored the woman to community
after she had been healed by her trust,
she, now his daughter,
stayed behind as a witness of God's Grace.

When he left Jairus, his wife and daughter,
weeping with joy,
that household was changed forever,
and they became witnesses to the Truth.

Consider this, please.

Jesus walks on this hill
and does mighty, healing acts here.

We, the lame walking, the deaf hearing,
the dead rising,
the distorted made fully human,
the estranged restored to faith community,
are all his witnesses.

What do you think
our calling now, here, must be?

The departure of one priest
could cause mourning for some
but Jesus remains among you.
Didn't you know?

The uncertainty of a transition could be unsettling
but by trusting God,
as did Jairus and the estranged woman
who became daughter,

you will gain a new level
of faith community, connectedness, and joy.

Be witnesses one to another
of the wonders God works on this hill.

Hang together in faith, no matter what;
and, become healers, reconcilers,
sons and daughters of God.

You are witnesses to these wonders.