(This is my imaginative account of Jairus from a compilation of the gospel accounts of this event.)
Weeping and wailing filled the house but Jairus was not one to give up easily. The sobs were maddening; his daughter lay there motionless, only her chest rising and falling ever so slightly. His wife knelt next to her, wiping her forehead with cool water drawn from the well. The doctors had given up—there was nothing that they could do. But Jairus knew there was still life and therefore there was still hope! “Jesus! I’ve got to find him now!” he shouted to those already gathered to mourn. “I saw a crowd on the hillside just outside of town an hour ago. I think they were following Jesus”, one of the women motioned to the city. He was despairing and in a hurry—no time to waste, not even a single second. He had to get to Jesus—all of his other options were exhausted. Without another word Jairus gathered up his robe and ran to the city. Jesus was known to heal people. Perhaps he could…Yes, he could heal his daughter, his only child. She had been their miracle child. They had tried to conceive for several years before their blessing came; and now they were on the verge of losing her. He couldn’t let that happen. His wife would be distraught. He couldn’t lose her too! He pushed all of those thoughts away and focused on one thing: Finding Jesus. Perspiration: “Where is he?” Desperation: “I’ve got to find him!” Anticipation: “There he is!” Jairus shoved his way through the crowd intent on getting to Jesus. The people recognized Jairus, he was the leader of the synagogue! What was he doing rushing to Jesus? The crowd parted in respect for Jairus. Was he there to confront the Rabbi? Would he assault him? But when he finally broke through he fell at the feet of Jesus—broken, weeping, and humble. “It’s my daughter. She is dying. Please, help. Please heal her. Would you come to her now?” Sure, some people had fallen at the feet of Jesus with false motives, pretending to honor him with their words, but their hearts betrayed them, but Jesus was clearly moved by this man’s heart and replied, “Arise, let us go.” Jairus knew that he would likely face criticism from the establishment and peer pressure from his colleagues, but he no longer cared. The only thing that mattered was his daughter; and the only hope he had was Jesus. Jesus and the crowd moved, but slowly. People were still pressing in to get close to the Rabbi. Couldn’t we go any more quickly? Didn’t they just hear that my daughter is dying? Then Jesus stopped dead in his tracks. Finally, he’s going to dismiss them so we can move on! This is good! “Who touched me?” Jesus queried the crowd. No one answered. Finally, one of his disciples said with somewhat quizzical look and tone? “There are a lot of people here, I’m sure several people touched you.” That had never seemed to bother the teacher before, but now he wants to know who touched him. “No. This was different. I felt power go out from me. Who touched me?” Jairus looked and saw a pale, fragile woman crawling on the ground—he’d seen her before but had never been close to her for she had been unclean for twelve years unable to enter the synagogue. She trembled as she spoke and she did not look Jesus in the face. “I thought if I could only touch the hem of your garment that I would be healed.” Jesus smiled broadly and spoke: “Daughter, take courage, your faith has made you well.” “Jairus!” Jairus heard his name from over his shoulder and he turned to see one of his servants running, with tears staining his face: “She’s dead. Don’t bother the Teacher.” Jairus turned back and looked into the eyes of Jesus. “Do not fear, only believe and she will be well.” Jairus looked into the eyes of the woman who had just been healed and then he looked back to Jesus. He believed. He had to believe. And they kept walking toward Jairus’ house. When they arrived the cacophony of mourning voices and the dissonance of the flute dirges filled the air. Discord. Despair. Death. Jesus spoke with confidence and authority. “Stop mourning. She is not dead, she is only asleep.” The hateful, derisive laughter of these professional mourners followed Jesus and his disciples into the house. Jairus, take me to your wife and daughter. Peter, James and John, come with us. The rest of you wait here. Walking in, full of compassion, Jesus took the girl’s cold hand and spoke: “Daughter, arise!” Never before had Jesus raised someone from the dead, but today, the love and faith of her father and the love and power of The Father had done something that had never been done before. Tears of joy replaced the tears of heartbreak.
1 Comment
Darrel Ervin
6/22/2015 12:41:38 pm
Incredibly written, John; very moving!
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