Redeemer Evangelical Lutheran Church

Trinity 24

Not Dead, but Sleeping

St. Matthew 9:18-26

November 10, 2024 anno Domini

The ruler didn’t care who won the election. Neither did the bleeding for 12 years woman. Neither did the people who sat in ICU with loved ones or who had appointments at Benson funeral home on Wednesday.

Sickness will do that. Death will do that. The most important thing in the world, even the saving of Democracy, as the election was billed would mean little or nothing to a woman afflicted by bleeding for 12 years.  If your 12-year-old daughter was dying on Tuesday night you could care less who was going to be mayor or President on Wednesday morning.

You should be mindful of death. If you are the provider for your family, you should have life insurance. If you have children, you need a will. Make your funeral plans because your children have no idea what you want or believe. If you have reached the age where you need medicine to live you best have a health directive and someone with authority to make decisions if you cannot.

You should plan to live for a while, but the best wisdom on earth is to be mindful of death. An accident at work, a chronic illness, the death of a spouse or child, could change all your plans in a heartbeat.

Ask the bleeding for 12 years lady. Do you think when that bleeding started, she thought it would never stop? No, she thought, just like she always did, that a few days and it would be over for a month. She didn’t think she would be unclean forever, unable by Old Testament ceremonial law to hug her child or love her husband, confined to a corner of her dark house alone with her affliction.

Ask the ruler, named Jairus by Mark and Luke, when his daughter started running a fever or throwing up, did he think this would lead to death? No, she might miss a day or two of school, but a few days of rest, the fever would break, and she would return to her moody self, pre-teen self.

What do you do with that earthly wisdom? That wisdom that’s found in the first line of the hymn of the day, “In the very midst of life, snares of death surround us.” You can ignore it. Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die.  Pursue all the pleasure and possessions you can while you can. For many that means they hang on with all their might and fight death to the bitter end. Seeking every treatment, trying every remedy, still concerned about restoring that old car or building that dream house in the last moments of life.

The more measured approach is to plan for death. Your death is going to hurt those who love you. So do your best not to make it worse – get that will written, plan your funeral service, make sure your loved ones are taken care of in the best way your resources allow.

Death ensnares 12-year olds and can begin with 12 years of affliction. That’s the best earthly wisdom I can impart to you, but thankfully, as a pastor, I always have more to say. What God has called me to speak is heavenly wisdom – wisdom recorded in Saint Matthew 9, wisdom from a bleeding for 12 years woman, wisdom from the father of a dead 12-year-old girl, that wisdom is Jesus.

While Jesus was saying these things to them, behold, a ruler came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.”  Matthew keeps the stories of Jesus short and sweet. He leaves out details that Mark and Luke provide us. According to the other accounts when Jairus first came to Jesus his daughter wasn’t dead, she was dying, but you know how it is when you are desperate for help. You exaggerate the problem, you multiply the pain, your fears and frustrations come spilling out of your mouth. A dying girl might have time, but a dead girl was a different matter. Maybe Jairus figured by the time Jesus got there she would be dead or maybe Matthew just shortened up the story.

If Jairus was lying to Jesus, Jesus forgave him and didn’t treat him like he deserved. He set out for Jairus’ house. He isn’t concerned if she’s dying or dead. He isn’t like us. He’s not afraid, worried, shattered, helpless. He heads for the house, not in a panic or fear. And then He stops on the way for a far less serious problem than death. He stops for the 12-years bleeding woman.

If you ever end up in the Emergency Room at the hospital, they practice triage. Triage means that if you come to the hospital with a mild fever and sore throat you’re going to have a ten hour wait. Sorry, but you’re not that sick and your condition does not require immediate attention. If you walk in and collapse at the desk and your heart stops, you will likely not wait at all, although I don’t recommend that if you can help it. Imminent death is a higher priority than your runny nose.

The woman had been bleeding for 12 years. What was another hour or another day.  Jesus could easily have said, “Sorry lady, this fellow’s little girl is dead. Can’t you see how distraught he is? I need to help him first.  Log in to mychart and I’ll see you at my next available appointment.“

But that is not Jesus. For Him there are no little afflictions and no great afflictions. Illness and death are the same for they are the result of sin. In the same way He doesn’t grade sins. He’ll forgive the prostitute her fornication and the pharisee his pride. He’ll die for your man, woman, or child sins and He’ll die for my pastor sins.

The woman touched the fringe of Jesus’ garment and was healed. Jesus stopped for her. Mark tells us Jesus felt power go out from Him. Think how different Jesus is. When we’re sick we try not to touch other people so we don’t spread our germs. When Jesus touches people, the life that is in Him chases out the illness and makes them well. That’s what happened in your baptism, when the Word of Absolution was spoken to you this morning, when His body and blood is placed in your mouth. What He has – forgiveness, life, the resurrection – that fills you to chase out sin, death, and hell.  Take heart daughter, your faith has made you well.  And it’s more than well, it’s whole. He didn’t just heal her body. He saved her, the whole her – body and soul.

According to Mark and Luke about this time servants of Jairus showed up to say, “Don’t bother. Your daughter is dead.” Once again Jesus just keeps going. Dying, dead, it doesn’t matter to Jesus. This is why He came. He is the Lord of Life. He was there at creation. He made Adam out of dirt, He can certainly do the same with this little girl.

The funeral is in full swing when Jesus arrives. The flutes are playing their lament and the professional mourners are wailing so everyone in the area knows death has visited this poor family. What does Jesus do? He says, “Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” He puts them out – that’s the same verb for casting out demons. Don’t weep and wail as if there is no hope when Jesus is present at the funeral.

Here is the wisdom from heaven, straight from the mouth of God’s Son, your Savior, “the girl is not dead but sleeping.” This is how Jesus looks on death and if Jesus looks on your death that way, then that is what your death is. Why rush around if the girl is merely sleeping? If Jesus can awaken her, why panic, why not stop to help someone else in need. There’s nothing to fear.

Jesus went in took her by the hand, the girl arose. The touch of Jesus and what He has becomes hers. His life overcomes her death. Jesus touched you when He became a man and carried your sins to the cross.  He touched you with life in your baptism. You were born again by water and the Spirit. You are alive in His forgiveness. As long as you believe, as long as you breathe out your sins and inhale his forgiveness you have that life. So even when you die, you don’t die. You live – that’s what Jesus says. You live. Your body is going to take a little rest in the grave, but you live. Jesus says so and He did so and when you believe it is so for you.

When that chronic affliction arrives, when death visits too soon, go to Jesus. For Him death is no big deal. He’s been there. He’s done that. And He did it for you that you might live, now and forever. In the name of Jesus. Amen.