Of
course, there is another who is waiting as fast as he can. Jairus is sick with panic, fainting with
fear. Then the nightmare comes
true. “Your daughter is dead,” the people
from home report. “There’s no point in
annoying the Teacher any further.”
Jairus has waited as fast as he can. And all his patience gets him is more pain.
If
only that woman had stayed in her place.
If only she had waited her turn, he might have thought. A few minutes might have made all the
difference. Now it’s too late.
And
what about Jesus? Doesn’t he know that
I, Jairus, am entitled to respect?
Doesn’t he know that I am president of the synagogue? Doesn’t Jesus know that I’m always first in
line at the potlucks? Does Jesus know
that you are supposed to give priority to the power and the privileged and the
pure?
No,
Jairus, Jesus doesn’t know that. There
is a triage system in the Kingdom of God.
It’s different from the way the world sorts the wounded. In the Kingdom of God, the last shall be
first. The first shall be last. The Gentile rulers may throw their weight
around to get their way. But it shall
not be so among you. The greatest in the
Kingdom of God shall be servants of all.
Unless you become like a little child, you cannot enter the Kingdom of
God. If the powerful demand privileges
and priority, then Jesus can raise up new children of Abraham from the very
stones of the street.
Trusting God means trusting God’s timing.
The
first shall indeed be last. But they
shall not be left out altogether. Jairus
still has a place in line even if that place is at the tail instead of the
head. A dead daughter? Well, we’ll just see about that! “Little girl,” Jesus says as he takes her by
the hand, “Arise!” If you hear the
tremors of an empty tomb in those words, you hear correctly. Jesus comes to launch the death of death
itself.
The
bleeding woman entered her prison of pain the year that little girl was
born. Now they are reborn on the same
day. The old woman may live to see her
grandchildren. The little girl may live
to have grandchildren of her own.
Waiting as fast as you can is part of trusting God in all things at all
times.
Trusting God means trusting God’s timing.
Psalm
one hundred thirty is a prayer for personal rescue. Verse five is about waiting as fast as we
can. “I wait for the LORD, my soul waits and in his word I hope.” The words for “waiting” and “hoping” in that
verse are very specific. They contain
the ideas of determination and endurance.
These are words that invite us to lean into our waiting. We lean into that waiting with confidence and
strength that come from Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit.
God
is, after all, waiting for us as fast as God can. In Second Peter three, verse nine, you can
read these words: “The Lord is not slow
about his promise, as some would think of slowness, but is patient with you,
not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance.” That is the real purpose of God’s
timing. God wants you and me to have
life and joy and love for now and for all time.
God will wait for as long as that takes.
Trusting God means trusting God’s timing.
How
do we wait as fast as we can? How do we
endure in times of trouble? Let me tell
you a story.
A
farmer found a magical flute. Hoping to
charm his hens into laying extra eggs, he played the flute to them all
day. But at nightfall he had no more
eggs than usual. Later, when asked if
he’d had any success, the farmer replied, “I sure did! It wasn’t much of a day for egg-laying, but
it was a great day for flute-playing!”
Sometimes
in our lives, it’s a great day for egg-laying.
We make plans, set goals, design programs, and hit all our marks. Sometimes things happen when we want and how
we want. It’s a blessing to have a few
of those days.
Most
days, however, it’s a great day for flute playing. Things don’t go according to schedule or plan
or specifications. Sometimes we have to
just sit and wait. And sometimes that
waiting feels like pure agony.
I
think about that family in my opening story.
They waited as fast as they could.
But waiting for God to act is not the same as doing nothing. Trust is not a code word for despair. Patience is not just a nice word for
resignation. Waiting is not a formula
for futility.
That
family did everything within their power to reach the woman in her coma. They squeezed love and meaning and joy out of
every second in that ICU. They did
everything possible to will her back to consciousness. They painted her toenails red for the Husker
game. They told family stories and
jokes. They sang hymns and prayed. Those wonders of waiting packed more life
into that intensive care room than some people put into their whole existence.
The
woman still died, even after those heroic efforts. It was sad and sorrowful. But it wasn’t the end of all things. In our reading as well, that healed woman
died at some point. So did the little
girl.
So
did Jesus.
Of
course, Jesus didn’t stay dead. And
because we are baptized into his death and resurrection, neither shall we. That makes all the difference. That’s why we wait. That’s why we wait with hope as fast as we
can too.
Trusting God means trusting God’s timing. Amen.
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