Sermon - Pentecost 9 - Ephesians 2:11-22

 

One in Christ

We learn from a very early age that people are different.  And the older we get, the more we learn this.  Men and women are different.  Introverts and extroverts are different.  People come in all shapes and sizes, ethnic and cultural backgrounds.  We come from different nations and have different political views.  Along almost any axis or point of comparison, you can find people who fall on either side of the fence, into either camp or category.  And you see this also in Holy Scripture.

Now these differences aren’t always bad, and sometimes they can even be complementary.  But often they lead to disunity, division, strife, and conflict.  And that, of course, is because of sin.  Indeed differences among us can lead to hard feelings, broken relationships, and sometimes even war and bloodshed.  Sin loves to latch on and make hay out of our differences, amplifying them for the devil’s purposes.

But Paul shows us this morning in our reading from Ephesians how separation and disunity can be abolished and unity and peace achieved:  through the blood of Jesus Christ alone.

One of the main distinctions we see in Scripture is between Jews and Gentiles, or as Paul also puts it here, between the circumcision and the uncircumcision.  Beginning with Abraham and his descendants, God’s people bore this outward mark of their membership in his kingdom.  An outward sign, made with human hands, but a sign of an unseen reality – that of God’s word and promise.

But that wasn’t the only thing that separated Jew and Gentile.  You also had the Mosaic law.  All of the rules and regulations on foods and practices that made one clean or unclean.  The sacrificial system and its festivals and observances.  The Levitical priesthood with all its trappings.  And of course, the tabernacle and later the temple itself, where God had made his name to dwell, his presence on earth.  All of these belonged to the Jews and not the Gentiles.

But perhaps most of all, the Jews had the word of God, and the Gentiles followed their false gods, their pagan ways of worship.  The Gentiles didn’t know God the Father, the maker of Heaven and Earth.  They didn’t know God the Son, the one who was promised to come as seed of the woman and crush the serpent’s head.  They didn’t have the Holy Spirit who creates and sustains faith and sanctifies God’s people.  They were aliens, outsiders, strangers, and people who had no hope, because they didn’t have the true God.

And this caused no small amount of division between Jew and Gentile.  But it was not to be forever.  Because in Christ, God saves both Jew and Gentile.  Christ preached peace to those who were far off and those who were near.  Through Christ, both Jews and Gentiles are given access to the Father in one Spirit.  Through Christ, all are made citizens and saints and members of the household of God.

There is no hostility between Jew and Gentile anymore, because all are one in Christ.  Especially now that the old covenant is abolished, or fulfilled.  The shadows, as Colossians calls them, pass away, as the substance has appeared in full, in Christ!

Christians no longer worship God at the temple, but in spirit and in truth.  Wherever two or three are gathered in his name, he is present.  Whenever his word is preached faithfully and his sacraments are administered rightly – he is there.

For in his flesh Jesus has created this unity, reconciling Jew and Gentile to God through his body on the cross.  All who believe in him are therefore one with God, one with Christ, and one with each other.

Whatever divisions and differences we have in this world are of no consequence compared to the unity that we have as believers in Christ.  This is one of the great joys of the Christian faith!  Unity with other believers in Christ!  This is what it means to be the Church.

The temple curtain was torn in two on Good Friday, and the temple itself was torn down to its foundations just a generation later.  No longer do we worship at the temple, but rather, the temple now becomes an image of the church itself:

“You are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, 20 built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, 21 in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into la holy temple in the Lord.”

Individually we might say, “your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit”.  But it’s also true of us as a whole.  The church is the body of Christ, the household of God, the holy temple of his presence.  The church is, after all, where he is to be found:  in his word and sacraments.  Among us, his people. 

The church is built, by him, and not by us, mind you.  It is built on a strong foundation – the testimony of the apostles and prophets, which is to say, the strong word of God.  And Christ himself is the chief cornerstone.  He gives meaning and purpose to the whole construction project.  It exists because of him, and for him, and can only stand on him. 

Just as he has called me by the Gospel, myself, to the faith – the Holy Spirit also calls, gathers, enlightens and sanctifies the whole Christian church on earth.  Just as he forgives your sins and my sins, so he forgives all sins of all who would hear and believe. 

Most of us here, I’m sure, are not descended from Abraham by the flesh.  Most of us here are what you would call Gentiles.  But thanks be to God, that in Christ, forgiveness and faith are for all Jews and Gentiles alike.  That at some point in your family’s history, and now even in your own life, you have heard the good news of Jesus Christ and come to faith in him by the Spirit.

And so that we might hear this Gospel, and receive this forgiveness, he provides shepherds to his people.  In the Old Testament, he gave his people prophets, priests and kings.  Now in these last days he provides pastors.  But this office is also built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, and it is also a gift that only he gives.

Woe to the shepherds who lead the sheep astray!  Who destroy and scatter the sheep!  As we hear God say through Jeremiah.  False teachers and false prophets are always to be avoided.  But that shepherd or pastor which points and leads us to Christ, who faithfully preaches the word, and rightly administers the sacraments – that is a gift of God in our midst, for the benefit of the church. 

God promises, “I will gather my scattered flock” and “I will set shepherds over them”.  As usual, as always, every good and perfect gift comes from above.  All these good things are blessings from his bountiful goodness.  Faith, forgiveness, the gospel, shepherds to proclaim it, and the unity that is ours in and through Jesus Christ.

Sermon - Pentecost 8 - Mark 6:14-29

Last week we heard what the people of Nazareth thought of Jesus. They were astonished and amazed by him, but not in a good way. They rejected him, to Jesus' own amazement. Now Mark tells us what King Herod thinks about Jesus. This is the Herod Antipas, who is the son of Herod the Great – and it was Herod the Great who tried to kill Jesus when he slaughtered the children of Bethlehem. It was also the same Herod here, Antipas, who was in Jerusalem and before whom Jesus stood on trial. So the mention of the Herod name gets us thinking both backward and forward in the New Testament witness.

Herod has heard of Jesus. Word of Jesus must have been all the talk. The miracles that Jesus performed – well, Herod reasoned in his superstition that Jesus was John the Baptist come back from the dead to haunt him. And the message of Jesus was similar to the message of John the Baptist – repent, and believe! And so Mark gives us a flashback scene – and tells us what led up to this when it comes to John and Herod.

The story is kind of disturbing, isn't it? Especially when you have to teach it to children. It's kind of grizzly. But if you can get past that part of it, you might still wonder why Mark, inspired by the Holy Spirit, would tell us such a story.

It would make a pretty depressing movie, I think. There's no happy ending in which the little guy is vindicated. John, this nobody from nowhere, who had given up the creature comforts of life to live in the wilderness – John, a voice crying in that wilderness – whose message was growing and commanding attention. People were responding in droves, as the Pharisees commented, “all of Judea is going to him!” And John, the voice of accusation toward Herod – learns that calling out the king's sin is dangerous business. I guess today some would call it, “speaking truth to power”.

 

“Herod you married your brother's sister! Repent!” And if it bothered Herod, it REALLY burned his adulterous wife, Herodias. She wanted this voice silenced. She wanted John out of the picture. And so she had Herod arrest him. Oh, she wanted him dead, too... but Herod feared to go that far. For he knew, somehow, that John was a righteous man.

The conscience is a funny thing, isn't it? You see it in action here with both Herod and Herodias. Both of them were sinners, just like the rest of us. Their sin just happened to be more public. But that didn't stop John from speaking the law to them, from calling a sin a sin. But who likes their dirty laundry aired out for all to see?

Imagine a modern day parallel scenario in which a pastor has to call out someone's sin (however gently, even). Perhaps a couple wants to get married, but has been living in sin together, and everyone knows it. And the faithful pastor tells them this is wrong, this breaks the sixth commandment, this dishonors God's gift of marriage. Ah, but this couple - they're ok with the pastor addressing sin in general but not getting too specific. They're ok when it's someone else's sin. When the pastor rails on the sins of the secular, godless world. But don't point to my sin. Don't shine the light on me! If you've been around churches long enough you know this sort of thing happens, and it doesn't always end with repentance and restoration as we hope.

Or the older person who needs a word of correction about their habit of gossip. Or the person whose attendance or giving hasn't been what it should. Or the person who's ok with most of what the Bible teaches, but still wants to hold this or that teaching at arm's length.

But, hey, don't kill the messenger! When a prophet, or now a pastor, speaks and warns you of sin, calls you to repentance, it's not to be a self-righteous so-and-so or an old-fashioned meanie-pants. This is for your own good. It's the fate of your soul that hangs in the balance. Luther once advised preachers to preach the law in such a way that your people will either hate their sin, or hate you.  We want you to turn from sin, be forgiven, and live! We want your conscience to be clear and clean, and your spirit renewed. And we pastors need to continually hear these same words of law and gospel that we preach!

Herodias had probably already silenced her own conscience, but she couldn't quite silence John's mouth. Herod seemed to be going back and forth, caught between Herodias and his own conscience. So he compromised and locked John in the dungeon. But this wasn't good enough for Herodias. She wanted full and complete victory over the voice of the law. So she waited for her chance, and she used her own daughter in part of her scheme. And she tricked the king, and got what she wanted. John's head on a platter.

And look how this story also shows us, that sin often ensnares other people into its nasty web. So here, adulterous Herodias even puts her daughter on shameless display to get her way. She uses her to commit murder, and drags her down with her. Sin is contagious and infectious, and it always has been, ever since Eve said, “I gave some also to my husband, and he ate”. You may think your sin is your own business, but you may not see how it affects others. And Jesus warns us harshly about those who cause little ones to sin – it would be better to have a millstone around your neck and be thrown into the sea.

You can kill the messenger, Herodias, but the message remains. The word of the Lord endures forever. You can quiet and muffle your conscience, you can surround yourself with people who will either mind their own business or even celebrate your sinful ways. But it doesn't change the verdict. Just has Herod was afraid Jesus was John come back to haunt him – our sins can still haunt us, even from years and years ago.

I remember one older gentleman who was dying, and made a special point to confess to his pastor what he called, “the sins of his youth”, things he had done some 60 years ago. It was ancient history. But not to him. They say time heals all wounds, but the wounded and stricken conscience is another story. David spoke similarly, “I know my iniquity, and my sin is always before me.” Paul wrestled with the evil he hated, but found himself doing anyway. “What a wretched man!” he called himself.

 

No, there's only one way to a truly clean and clear conscience, and it's not by killing the messenger. It's not by twisting or re-writing the law. It's not by ignoring it. The only way is forgiveness, and that forgiveness is only through Christ.

John was the fore-runner of Christ. The last of the prophets who got what prophets so often did for their work – death. Jesus called it “a prophet's reward”. From an earthly view, John's story wasn't a happy ending at all. But the spiritual reality is greater. John was the fore-runner of Christ, both in preaching repentance and faith, both in bringing a baptism for the forgiveness of sins, and also in suffering and even dying at the hands of the wicked and powerful. But while John was the greatest man ever born among men, he wasn't worthy to untie Jesus' sandal. While John died in faith, for faithfully preaching the word of God, Jesus died for much more.

You see, in the cross, Jesus accomplishes the forgiveness of all sins. And yes, that includes your deep, dark sins. It includes the sins of your youth and the sins of this minute. It includes the sins that would shame you before men, and the sins that only your conscience knows. It even includes those sins that God only knows. While John's head was brought as a trophy on a platter for Herod, Jesus' cross stands as a symbol of God's love and mercy for the world.

And while Herod superstitiously feared that John had risen from the dead and appeared again as Jesus – we know that Jesus really DID rise from the dead, and appeared to his disciples. But Jesus doesn't come back to haunt us, or to throw sin back in our face. He conquers death for us. To show us his word is true. To vindicate his sacrifice as acceptable to God. And to give us a preview of the resurrection that awaits us – life beyond death for all his people. When he appears to his disciples the first words out of his mouth are not, “Why did you leave me when I needed you the most?” or, “Peter, how could you deny me?”. The first words are, “Peace be with you.”

 

Jesus brings peace to the troubled, sore and weary conscience. He brings rest to those who would labor to earn their own way to God. He brings hope to those in the despair of a life that is a trail of sin's destruction.

And so, yes, John the Baptist lives, even though he died. And one day John will rise bodily with all the other believers, and with you, dear Christian, in the real ending of the story. For though you die, yet shall you live. Though your sins were as black as death, Jesus makes them white as snow. Though you face death all day long, Jesus wins you the crown of life. For Jesus is a live, and because he lives, we live. Because he declared “it is finished!”, sin really is finished, and death has no future.

Go in his peace. Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 7 - Mark 6:1-13

What amazes you?  Is it something that is unexpected, overwhelming, or fills you with awe?  A strong emotion?  A powerful experience?  A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that catches you up in the moment?  The birth of a child, or a visit to Niagra Falls? A meal that is amazing – that is just prepared so well and tastes so good.  An awesome 4^th of July fireworks display? The exhilaration of a test drive in a race car at the Texas motor speedway?  I suppose we use the word “amazing” in lots of different ways.

Our gospel reading uses the word “amazing” twice, and there’s two different words behind it in the Greek.  But maybe there’s even more that’s amazing about this story.  Let’s take a closer look as Jesus visits his home town of Nazareth, and is amazing and amazed.

Though born in Bethlehem, Jesus grew up in Nazareth.  A town in the northern part of Israel, modern archaeology suggests that Nazareth was a town that supplied skilled laborers (or carpenters, like Joseph) to a nearby construction project – the Roman city of Sepphoris.  But Nazareth, it is believed, was a small town of some 400 people.  Certainly small enough that everyone would have known young Jesus, the son of Joseph and Mary, known his family, etc.

But Jesus wasn’t like your typical carpenter from Nazareth.  He had left home for a while, and had gained some measure of popularity through his preaching ministry, after making a splash in Capernaum, and then all around the Sea of Galilee.  And then there were the miracles, not only the healings, but the exorcisms, the feeding of the 5000, the walking on water.  He had done many mighty works, as signs confirming his preaching.  The miracles were like bright neon signs flashing and pointing to the preacher, and to his message.  Listen to this guy!

It starts out well enough, with Jesus entering the synagogue to preach on a Sabbath day.  That was his custom.  Whatever his preaching was, it had an interesting effect on those citizens of Nazareth.  They were amazed.  Astonished. Shocked.

Maybe it was the content, maybe it was the delivery, maybe it was both.  Or maybe it was just that fact that this man wasn’t who they expected him to be.  Where does he get this wisdom?  How does he do these miracles?  Their questions start to give us a clue that their amazement is not appreciative and positive, but rather jealousy, resentment, and downright unbelief.  We are told, “They took offense at him.”  Not that he did anything to warrant the offense, but that’s how they took him.  They are amazed and astonished in Jesus, but NOT in a good way.

And we might find it amazing that they reacted this way.  We might expect that the people of Nazareth, of all people, would accept and receive Jesus eagerly.  That they would see him as a hometown hero, and take pride in his fame and accomplishments.  Even if only on a human level, it does strike us as kind of amazing that they reacted to Jesus with such animosity.

Luke’s gospel also tells us of a visit Jesus made home to Nazareth.  And scholars disagree as to whether Luke is telling about the same visit or another occasion, but in any case, at the end of Luke’s account – the people of Nazareth are so offended by Jesus that they try to throw him off a cliff!  Now THAT is an amazing reaction to a sermon!

Jesus, for his part, is also amazed.  He is amazed at their unbelief.  Jesus is only ever recorded as being amazed by faith, or the lack of it.  Of course, maybe that’s because that’s what Jesus is always looking for – faith.  It’s the most important thing to him.  He doesn’t care whether it’s a man or woman, a person of high or low standing, a Jew or a gentile.  He desires that all people would have faith, faith in him as their savior, and be saved.

He was amazed by the faith of the centurion, “even in Israel I have not found such faith!”  But here, it’s the opposite.  Even Jesus is amazed at their lack of faith.  He comments on it with a little saying, “A prophet is not without honor, except in his hometown”.  A sort of truism that defies shallow expectations.  Sort of like, “It’s the ones you love that hurt you the most.” or, “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”  There’s a deep irony about unbelief.  Like sin itself, it is not what it ought to be.

But from another perspective, what amazes us, spiritually speaking?  It is, perhaps, sometimes the wrong things.  We may be amazed by the outward, the surface level, the shallow things.  That which glitters and gleams in the eyes of the world.  So-and-so is so successful, God has really blessed him.  Oh, look how famous and well-off they are, they must be really something.  What talent!  What skill!  What beauty!  Amazing!  We see the outliers among us and are attracted to their worldly wonder, like a shiny object, amazed by all the wrong things.  But the Lord does not judge by such outward things, and perhaps we ought not either.

Why not instead be amazed by the right things?  Faith, or the lack of it.  Just like Jesus would be.  Isn’t it amazing when one sinner comes to repentance and faith, and the angels in heaven rejoice?  Isn’t it amazing that God makes such promises to us of forgiveness, life, and salvation, and speaks those promises through a simple man he calls into our midst?  Are you amazed that God himself would come to earth, be born of a woman, be born under the law, and then fulfill that law perfectly on your behalf?  Are you astonished that same God-man would win your salvation not by conquering might, but by a humble, obedient death, even death on a cross?  Or that the same savior who gave his body and blood on the cross, now gives his risen body and blood to you, from the altar, to eat and drink? 

These are the amazing things of faith, my friends, but do we sometimes fail to be amazed as we should?  Do we take them for granted?  Do we forget all his benefits?  Does “Jesus died on the cross for you” become sort of ho-hum, we’ve heard it all before?  And not the life-changing, eternity-altering great, good news we know it to be?

We sing about this in one of our best-loved hymns, “Amazing Grace”.  It’s true, God’s grace to us in Christ is amazing.  It’s not as we would expect.  How should God treat a wretch like me, according to my sin?  Not with such undeserved love and mercy, and yet that it what he does in Christ!  How can the lost be found?  How should someone spiritually blind expect to see anything of God’s salvation, and yet in that amazing grace he finds us, and  opens our eyes and our hearts, so that now we see and believe! 

And is it amazing that some reject Jesus Christ and his precious gospel?  In a way, yes, and we can stand alongside Jesus and be astonished at such unbelief.  But in another way, we shouldn’t be surprised.  It’s always been this way.  Some believe, and some reject.  Some have faith, and others have none.  Some receive Christ and his grace, and others turn away, turn aside, each to his own way.  Some seed falls on bad soil, or amidst the weeds, and some lands in good soil and produces abundantly.  Oh, what of that, Lord, what of that?

Sometimes a prophet like Ezekiel is sent to a stubborn people, but whether they hear and believe or do not, they will know there has been a prophet among them.  Such is the way of the Gospel, and of faith.  The world doesn’t know us, because it doesn’t know him.  It hates us, because it first hated him.  It shouldn’t surprise us or amaze us, because no servant is above his master.

Jesus doesn’t force his hometown neighbors to believe.  But like all people, his Gospel calls and invites, encourages and welcomes.  If one hears and believes unto salvation – thanks be to God!  And if another rejects faith and Christ and his Gospel, that is his own choice.

But, dear Christian, never let the amazing grace of our Lord Jesus Christ fail to amaze you.  Receive him in faith as he comes to your home town this day, in his word, and under gifts of bread and wine that are his body and blood.  Be offended by your own sin, but receive his wisdom, his healing, and all his good gifts with thanksgiving.  For he does his mighty work of forgiveness, this day, in this place, for you.

Thanks be to God in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Sermon - Pentecost 6 - Mark 5:21-43

They say there is no greater heartache than the loss of a child.  I know some of you know this pain.  There is something deeply dis-ordered and nonsensical to us when a young person dies before their time, before even reaching adulthood, or before their own parents.  Death is never a welcome friend, but if someone has lived a good long life, and is now leaving behind pain and trouble, we can sometimes see death as bittersweet.  But when a young person has their whole life ahead of them, and that life is cut short, it seems even more unfair, even more tragic, even more a cause for weeping and lamentation. 

Such is the situation in our Gospel reading today.  It starts out with a desperate father and a dying young daughter, is interrupted by another woman in need of Jesus’ help.  And just when it seems all hope is lost, Jesus turns tears of mourning into joy as only he can.  He restores the life of the little girl with his powerful word.  Let’s take a closer look at Mark’s account of Jairus’ daughter today. 

The girl was sick, very sick, even dying.  And her father, a man of some importance – a ruler of the synagogue – knew just where to go for help.  It seems he was already a believer in Jesus, or at least in Jesus’ power to heal.  Though a man of some standing himself, he humbly falls at Jesus’ feet, an act of faith – a bodily confession.  We even know the father’s name, Jairus, a detail which also testifies to the truth of this story. 

He prays for Jesus to help –“lay your healing hands upon her – and she will live!”  A simple, straightforward request, as any father in his position might make.  Without any further conversation, Jesus goes. 

But of all the miracles of Jesus, this one takes a most interesting turn, or a detour, we might say, with another miracle.  An interruption, or at least, an interlude.  Along the way Jesus is distracted by this interaction with the woman who had a flow of blood.  And she, too, was desperate. She had tried everything, but suffered with this condition for 12 years.   

And by the way, it is surely no accident that 12 years was also the age of the little girl that was healed, and is also the “number of God’s people”.  It is surely no accident that Mark chooses to record this detail for us.  There’s a connection between these two individuals – the woman who was healed, and the young girl who was raised.  Both are called “daughter”. 

But there were also some interesting contrasts between the two:  

The woman had a chronic sickness , the girl’s condition was acute. 

The woman sought out Jesus directly.  The girl’s father sought Jesus on her behalf. 

The woman’s approach to Jesus was technically not in accord with the law, as her flow of blood made her “unclean”.  But the Father’s approach for his daughter was open and above board. 

The woman was an outcast, socially.  But as ruler of the synagogue, Jairus’ family had a higher social standing. 

The woman was poor, having spent all she had on doctors.  Jairus and his family probably well off. 

The woman was healed by touching Jesus’ cloak, and when Jesus healed the girl he touched her hand. 

The woman was healed in public, the child in the privacy of a home. 

Jesus spoke to the woman after the healing and to the girl before. 

In both cases there was commotion – the crowd that followed Jesus and then the crowd of mourners.   

Jesus told the woman that her faith had healed her.  Jesus told the messengers that they should have faith and not be afraid. 

So what do we make of all this?  Two women, one young, one old, but both in need of help.  They shared some things in common, but their cases were also very different.  But the one thing they had in common, the most important thing that had in common, was they had a need – and that need was met by Jesus. 

You and I come to Jesus in various ways, too.  Some of us are young, some are old.  Some are male, some are female.  Some are life-long Christians, some recent converts.  Some of us are rich or poor, healthy or sick, troubled or not-so-troubled.  We’re as different in our circumstances and situations as can be. 

But we also have some things in common.  We share the same curse of sin, and the wages of that sin called death.  Your sins may be different from mine.  Yours may trouble your conscience more, or in different ways.  Your struggles with a certain sin may have been going on for many years, or perhaps have just begun.  But the one thing we all have is sin, and that sin runs to our very core.  We were conceived and born in it, we live and breathe in it.  All the thoughts of our hearts are tainted and soiled by it.  Apart from Christ we can do no good thing. 

And that sin brings with it a train of troubles, with a caboose called death.  Throughout this life we find the grief and bitterness that sin brings.   

Sometimes it is your own sin, and you suffer the consequences of your mistakes.  You bear the burden of your guilt, the shame of things you’ve done, and can’t take back.  Bring it to Jesus.  He will forgive, as he always does.  He will bring peace with God, a peace that passes understanding. 

Sometimes the sin that troubles us is from the world around us, other sinners, who hurt us with their words or deeds.  The knife stabbed in your back.  The thoughtless words, or careless inconsideration.  Bring it to Jesus, and he will teach you to forgive those who trespass against you, even as he forgives your own trespasses. 

And then there’s the broken world, the fallen creation.  The effects of sin that bring death and disease.  It may be a flow of blood or a life-threatening fever.  It may be an accident or disaster.  Or maybe just old age.  Something gets us eventually.  This mortal flesh is failing.  This world is in the throes of childbirth, heaving toward its own end and destruction.  Bring all that to Jesus, too. 

Look past the commotion.  Don’t give ear to the cacophony of mourning and wailing.  Set your eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith.  He may heal as miraculously as the woman who touched his garment.  Or he may allow the body to simply heal itself.  He may provide a doctor or a pill or a surgery.  Or, he may not. 

And if he doesn’t, that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten or forsaken.   

Do not fear.  Only believe.  

Just as the little girl was only sleeping, and he went to awaken her, so he brings life, even after death.  And on the last day, on a much grander scale, he will say to you, also, “little one, arise.”  He will bring you just as surely to life – full, abundant, glorious, like you’ve never had life before.  He will command that every Christian grave give forth its dead, and they, and all who are in Christ yet living will be changed into bodies incorruptible.   

For all their differences, what Jairus’ daughter had in common with the woman who sought out Jesus for healing – is Jesus himself.  And we are in that same boat. 

Whatever trouble or sorrow, whatever tears or mourning sin and death bring your way.  Wherever you are in life, and whoever you are, do not fear, only believe in Jesus.  He is the one who brings the help.  He is the one who overcomes sin, death, and devil. 

After all, he is the one whose blood has flowed for us on the cross.  He is the one who slept in the grave for us.  He is the one who turns sorrow to joy, tears into laughter, fear into faith.  He is the one who cares for all his sons and daughters.  He is the one who comes to us, and to whom we may always reach out.  It’s always Jesus, and only Jesus, who cures, cleanses, calms, comforts, heals, and saves.  It’s Jesus who gives his life for yours, and will give you eternal life on the last day.