When I was a child, I loved to read.
But sometimes I didn't have the patience to read through what seemed to be such tension, such suspense, in each book I read.
So, I would skip to the end, and read the last pages first.
I needed to know what was going to happen before I read the rest.
Oddly enough, this didn't curb my enthusiasm for reading. Eventually I broke the habit,
at least until I went to seminary,
when reading the end of the book first often saved me from some incredibly dreary hours
Many theologians would have done well to take a writing course some time in the history of their academic careers.
It might have made their books much more readable.
But that's another story.
Today's reading from 2 Samuel is as though the lectionary decided to do as I did as a child - skip to the end of the book,
or at least the end of the story.
Last week we saw the beginning of the relationship between Saul, who had been anointed King in Israel, and David, the young shepherd boy who had the courage and faith to take on the giant Goliath.
Today we read David's lament of Saul, and his son Jonathan, who had died in battle.
Yet what happened in between, which we miss by skipping to the last page, is what forms the story, indeed forms the man David, who would one day be the King who united all of Israel under one house.
Saul, anointed King at God's command, never really took on the mantle of leadership that was fitting for one who governed a Theocracy.
He struggled with his own power issues, taking on tasks that were priestly rather than kingly, showing utter contempt for the instructions God gave him through the prophet Samuel.
God ultimately rejected Saul as King, and anointed David in his stead. Somewhere in that process, Saul began to go mad.
David, not only warrior but musician, was brought to play his harp when Saul was troubled, and as David entered Saul's household, the tables began to turn -
it wasn't long before everyone - including Saul's son Jonathan, knew intuitively that David would be the next king.
So David was booted out of the Kingdom, and for the next many years, Saul hunted him.
In between skirmishes with the Philistines, Saul pursued David until David himself went and hid in Philistine territory.
And perhaps this is the defining difference between David and Saul.
As Saul pursued him, David continued to think of Saul as God's anointed.
Continued to respect him as king.
Twice David had the opportunity to take Saul's life.
Both times he refused, saying he would not raise a hand against God's anointed one.
So here, at the last, Saul and Jonathan die together - Saul having fallen on his own spear, unable to face the onslaught of the enemy forces, leaving Jonathan to fend for himself.
And David, hearing of their death, takes on the lament of Saul, and of Jonathan, his best friend.
How the mighty are fallen!
If one reads the story of Saul, one might have difficulty seeing him as mighty.
Yet David had the ability to see beyond what was obvious.
He saw Saul as a man who had been chosen by God.
He respected both his position, and his abilities, in spite of Saul's history of dubious behavior.
David was able to see God's hand at work in the midst of Saul's life.
It is an ability that we as Christians should cultivate - an ability that shows up again in our reading from Mark today.
In this passage we have a story within a story - a story about a woman with a long-term illness is sandwiched between the beginning and end of a story about a young girl who is dying.
Both require our protagonist, Jesus, to see beyond what is right in front of him.
Jesus is pressed upon by the crowd, and stopped by a man who fears for his daughter's life.
I can imagine Jesus assuring the man that he would come, and heading toward his house.
Yet in the midst of that, he has a sense that power has left him - that somehow, some way, that Spiritual force within him has been tapped, and he says' "Who touched me?"
To those with him, it seems a stupid question.
Jesus was being touched by an entire crowd of people who wanted to follow him wherever he went; They were pressing him on every side.
how would he know if someone touched him -
But he did know - someone touched him - a woman who had been suffering for 12 years - not only from her disease, but from the social stigma married to it - she was unclean.
Yet when the woman knelt before Jesus, he saw, not an unclean woman, but a woman who had enough faith to work her way against all odds to his side so that she might touch him and be healed.
He went on - heading for the little girl's residence, when Jairus' people came to him saying in that wonderfully sensitive way - "don't bother the teacher any more - you're daughter's already dead."
Yet Jesus was not put off by this either.
He had a mission to fulfill, and the parochial attitudes of the crowd did not stop him, nor did their laughter.

He enters the house, and says to the girl the equivalent of, "litte girl, its time to get up!" as if she were indeed a sleeping child, awaiting her mother's gentle voice.

There is a drawing that many of you may be familiar with that is often used to show what happens when one looks at something another way.
If you look at the picture one way, you see a very old woman's profile. If you continue to look at it, to see what else is there, you see a young woman sitting at her dressing table.
Our perspective causes us to see things in a particular way.
For example some who look from the hallway at our new Meditation Chapel doors think they are stained glass, or perhaps a Japanese screen.
One must get a closer view to see the seven kinds of wood used to create them.
It is our perspective that colors our ability to live, either faithfully or fearfully;
When we allow ourselves only to see the data that is in front of us at any given time, be it financial, or relational, or whatever, our perspective becomes clouded to the possibility of wonder, of miracle, and of healing.
If we open our eyes, and begin to look upon those same situations through the lens of faith, understanding that God is always faithful, we begin to open our eyes to new possibilities.
Like David seeing Saul as God's anointed;
like Jesus, seeing a faithful woman and a sleeping child, it requires us to trust in the faithfulness of God - that God truly does desire good things for us; that God is ever-present, working to form us into God's image, that God cares for us, both individually and corporately.
The question is, what new perspective does God have for us today?