Mark 5:35
I
hate bad news! I try to avoid watching the news on TV because they only talk about
bad news. I think it makes my world too large. I become aware of so many things
over which I have no control or influence. And since they only talk about the
worst things, my world becomes filled with even more violence than it did
yesterday. Every politician becomes corrupt. Every earthquake fault line is
ready to shift. Every river is ready to overflow it banks. Everyone is
experiencing record cold weather.
It
would be nice if we could train ourselves to hold onto the good news and savor
it. If we could train ourselves to focus on and celebrate the events filled
with grace, I think our lives would be filled with grace rather than disaster.
Some
of the most difficult times for people are the holidays, especially if a loved
one died around that time. If the holiday used to be exciting, some of the
excitement is taken away, at least for the first couple of years.
About
the worst news anyone can deliver is the news of someone’s death. I have been
part of that process for hundreds of people, both as a hospital chaplain and a
military chaplain. Walking up to a stranger’s door and knocking, knowing that
as soon as they see the uniform they know their loved one has died, is never
easy, even after hundreds of times.
Our
text records one of those moments. Jairus has been walking with Jesus on His
way to his extremely ill daughter. And along the way Jesus has been delayed. I
can imagine the anxious feeling that Jairus must have felt. Come on, quick, let’s
go before it is too late. The woman touches, she slips back into the crowd,
Jesus looks for her, and then listens to her story. Then He blesses her. Come
on! Let’s go!
And
before Jesus finishes Jairus sees some men from his household walking toward
him. They were probably telegraphing the bad news in their facial expressions
and body posture even before they began speaking. And then come the words of
confirmation. “Your daughter is dead.” This is about the worst news any parent
can hear. This goes against the things are “supposed” to be. Parents die before
children. That’s the rule.
But
I don’t think those words were the hardest to hear. They suggest that Jairus
give up, that there is no reason to bring Jesus to his daughter. All is lost.
Don’t bother Jesus. It would be a waste of time. There is no hope. It is over.
Give up.
It
can be very hard to give up, to concede defeat, to stop hoping. Your heart
sinks and a weight lands on your shoulders. Your feet feel a little heavier,
and often words escape discovery. Grief sets in.