There are few
things in life that make us more vulnerable than a suffering child. There are
people here whose child died, whose child was in danger while being born into
this world, and children who encountered danger while growing up. In the midst
of the despair surrounding the suffering of the child or children, this is what
I’ve heard from those who helplessly watch and wait. “The only thing that
sustained me was knowing how many people were praying for us.” Or, “I wish I
could stand up and tell people how it feels to be surrounded by prayer.” Or, “I
knew God was touching us and holding us because there were people praying for
us every minute and every hour.”
The need for
prayer and the asking for it mean we have let down our guard. We have admitted
we are vulnerable and cannot endure suffering alone. We ask for help, trusting
for a miracle. Being willing to be vulnerable is trust; it is saying we know we
cannot do this alone. We are willing to admit our need for God and our need of others
and trust that our vulnerability will be honored.
Regardless of outcome,
the commonality in each of these troubled situations is people were willing –
whether aware of it or not – to be vulnerable to God and to others. People were
willing to be touched by God. This is the communality we share with those in
this morning’s Gospel. Jesus encounters people who are vulnerable and willing: vulnerable
and willing to be touched and held by God.
There are three people who are
characters in this story with Jesus who become vulnerable to be touched by God.
Jairus the synagogue leader who discovers he must set aside his own pride and
position and become vulnerable enough to ask for God’s healing power. The woman
who has been suffering for all those years must become both brave and
vulnerable enough to seek out her healing. And finally a little girl, a little
girl who is nameless and made vulnerable by no act of her own but by her
illness and her social status as a girl child, as one of most vulnerable in her
society.
Some people
think this story is also about faith, if we only have enough faith we will be
touched by God. In truth, the word that is translated here as “faith” is really
much closer to “trust.” Jesus says to the woman who touched his clothes,
“Daughter, your trust has made you well.” Not how much you believe, but how you
are willing to become vulnerable enough to trust. And to Jairus, when he is
told his daughter is dead, Jesus says, “Do not fear, only trust.”
One of our
truths is this: we are all seeking miracles in one way or another. Almost all
of us, if we are willing to become vulnerable enough to admit it, are seeking a
miracle for something. Our deepest desire, when we are vulnerable enough to admit
it, is to be touched by God. Many of us are waiting for a miracle: for God to
come among us and touch us or touch someone we love.
We could, of
course, speculate about the reasons for the miracles in today’s Gospel. Perhaps
the miracles are to show us what can happen when people become vulnerable
enough to admit they need God. Perhaps the miracles are to show us that someone
as unimportant seeming as a small child is important to Jesus. Perhaps the
miracles are to show us that regardless of miracles God wants us to trust, even
when we cannot believe. Perhaps the miracles are to show us that money and
power and position have nothing to do with where and when a miracle happens.
And perhaps it is all of these things.
And yet, if we
do all these things and learn all these lessons from Jesus and we don’t get the
miracles we so desire, what then? What then when the child dies? What then when
the disease is not cured? What then when the parent dies, leaving the child
bereft? These are no times for abstract thoughts about a some time resurrection
miracle. We want the resurrection now! What can
we trust?
What we trust
is the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is no abstraction; this is
real. Miracles come and go to the deserving and the undeserving. The
resurrection goes on; this is the one miracle in which we can trust.
Sunday after
Sunday, the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ calls us to break bread and
drink wine together. The presence of our Lord Jesus Christ in the bread and
wine is how the miracle of resurrection is sustained. Day after day, month
after month, year after year, it is here. This
is the miracle that sustains. When we are unable to set aside money or power or
social position, Jesus has already done so on our behalf. When we are unable to
be vulnerable enough to come to Jesus just as we are: the body broken and the
blood shed for us have already done so on our behalf. And, when we are unable
to open our hearts enough to see the miracle of our resurrection, Jesus is
waiting for us, waiting in the bread and wine we offer here. This is the
miracle that sustains, the one in which we can trust. AMEN.
The Rev Nicolette Papanek
©2018
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