“The Look In His Eyes”

Mark 5:21-43

July 13, 2003

St. Paul United Methodist Church

Rev. John Fleming

I would like to take a chance this morning to introduce someone to you. Usually when you introduce someone, you call them forward and say some nice things about them. The person that I want to introduce to you is not physically here. He was not here at the 8:30 worship service, either. But I do want you to hear about him and his story. You might say that his story is a testimony. The man is a preacher. He is one of the best preachers that I know. I am proud to say that I know him. You would like him. Unlike me, he is a great preacher and pastor. He is the kind of man that you would see at a home football game leading the prayer. He is the kind of man that you would see at the head table at the Rotary Club presiding over the meeting because he is the president. He is the kind of man that you would see walking the halls in the hospital on his way to see people from his church. You will not find any calluses on his hands because his work is church work. He has a great office just off the Sanctuary. I have been in his office. I have seen it. Diplomas are all over the walls. Every morning he walks into the sanctuary, kneels at the altar, and prays for the people in his church. He is a powerful leader and preacher. He is the kind of pastor who is able to melt any apprehensions that you might have and the smile on his face invites you to tell him anything and everything. In his church, on Sundays, the pews are full and if you want to hear him on Easter or Christmas Eve, you had better come early and get a seat. He has been at his church for over twenty years and in ten more he will hang up his robe and trade it in for a fishing pole. If he has any sins, nobody knows about them, and if he has any fears, no one knows those either. Which, of course, may be his greatest sin of all. You might say that this preacher is a people person. He has a way of connecting with people that is powerful.

But on this day, on the day that is his testimony, he does not want anyone around him. He has come into his office and he has answered the phone five or six times. He has told his secretary to hold his calls. That, in and of itself, is not uncommon. She suspects that he needs to work on his sermon. But working on his sermon is not what he needs time for. On this day, he needs time for his tears. Somehow let us get past the guard dog that is his secretary. Join me in his office. We won’t bother this pastor, but I do want you to look at the 8x10 picture of his little girl on the credenza behind his desk. That’s what he is doing this morning. There she is, all twelve years of her. The picture is recent. There are braces on her teeth, a smile on her face, and her hair is up in a pony tail with a bow in her hair. She is the spitting image of her mother. The only thing that she got from her dad was his heart, and he has no intention of asking for it back. She is not his only child, but she is his youngest, the baby of the family, and the only girl. She has her dad wrapped around her finger and he will do anything to keep her safe. Maybe that is why the last few days have been particularly difficult for him. It all started about six days ago. The school had called around lunch time with the news that his daughter was sick and running a fever. Her mother had put her to bed, thinking that her high fever and her irritable attitude was the beginning of the flu. But during the night things got worse. Her fever rose and the next morning, they rushed her to the emergency room. The doctors were puzzled and confused. They could not figure out what was wrong and it was not because they had not tried. They had run every test that they knew to run, but still, they did not know what was wrong. The only thing that they could all agree on was that she was sick and was getting worse.

This preacher and father had never felt so helpless. He was so used to being in charge and being strong. He had never had to be weak before. He was not sure how to do that. He assured everyone who called to ask about his baby that God was a great God and that things would be just fine. But inside, well, he had no assurance at all.

It was the last phone call, the one that had caused him to tell his secretary to hold the rest of them, that had gotten him to where he now was. On the other end of the line was one of his daughter’s doctors. The news he gave was this: “It looks like your daughter is in a coma. That upsets him, as you might imagine, but it also makes him mad. He looks out his window and then holds his hand in his face for a while, to cry. When his tears are almost dry, he looks up to the heavens and shakes his fist at God and asks the question we have all asked: “Why God?” His particular question continues, “Why my little girl?” Then he screams out, “Take me instead!”

Maybe it was at that moment that he remembered about the teacher who was in town. Oh, he had known that he was going to be around. His next door neighbor had even asked him if he was going to hear what he had to say. There had even been letters from his church’s larger headquarters that had warned of the teacher. Church, you might know this teacher. His name is Jesus. The powers that be had written warnings to stay away from Jesus, that he was a radical. Some even said that he was a little insane. But the crowds ran to hear what he had to say. This preacher knew a little about the other things that they were saying about him. Some even said that he had the power to heal. He walked back to his desk, picked up the picture of his little girl, and the words rang in his ears, “Some even say that he has the power to heal.”

Now you need to know this. There was some risk involved if he went. If he was recognized, he might lose his job. For sure he would lose his credibility. But then again, if his daughter died and he hadn’t tried to do something, he would never live such a thing down. He reached for his coat and his keys, bolted out the door without telling his secretary where he was headed, and shrugged his shoulders as if to ask, “What choice do I really have?”

The preacher drove down to where the teacher was supposed to be. It was not hard for him to find Jesus. What was harder was finding a place to park. There were people everywhere. He parked and somehow was able to push his way through the crowd. He thought to himself, “All these people are here because they are curious. I am here because I am desperate.” He pushed his way through the crowd and came face to face with Jesus. He never thought that he would get this close. He had not really thought about what he might say if he actually talked with Jesus. Maybe he was hoping that Jesus would recognize him. If what they were saying was true about him, then maybe Jesus would already know and would ask what he could do. That is not what happened. Instead the

preacher fell to his knees and the words got caught in his throat, “It’s my little girl. She’s very sick. Could you please come and touch here so that she will live?” The preacher says that he felt the hand of Jesus as He lifted him up. He did not say a word, but began to follow him to his house. If you were in the preacher’s heart, then you would have heard him think, “Maybe if we hurry, it won’t be too late!”

The preacher tells that they were pushing through the crowd, making their way to his house, when it happened. They were making such great progress, they were moving at a pretty good pace when it happened. Out of nowhere and seemingly for no reason at all, Jesus stopped and asked the craziest of questions. His disciples, too, thought that it was ludicrous. There were people everywhere when Jesus stopped to ask the question, “Who touched me?” You see, it seems that the preacher was not the only desperate person in the crowd. There was another who was near the end of her rope as she reached for the hem of Jesus’ robe. Her desperation was different from the father’s. She had been battling blood for twelve years. Twelve years! She, too, had been to the doctors, and they, too, had shaken their heads in wonder. Word about her on the street was that she had spent all that she had, was not better, and was, in fact, worse. Somehow she thought if she just touched his clothes, she would be healed. What an act of faith, friends. She looked in His eyes when He said, “Your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease.”

Can you imagine what the father must be thinking while all of this is going on? Maybe this thought crossed his mind. “What she’s got is not life threatening! Come on, Jesus, we cannot waste any more time!” Church, I hope that you are getting this. It is as if this story heightens the drama. Will Jesus get there in time? Well, you know this story. Jesus does not get there in time. The ones, from his church who had figured out where he had gone, came and said, “Preacher, it is too late. Do not bother this man any longer.” Then Jesus said words that have rung in the preacher’s ears ever since, “Do not fear, only believe.” He asked the crowd to stay behind as they rushed to the hospital. There were only five of them, Jesus, this father, and three disciples. You can imagine the scene at the hospital. It was chaotic. There were people everywhere. Ovens were already being warmed to cook the casseroles that would be taken to the preacher’s house to feed them in this hard time. Jesus looked at the somber faces that were in the waiting room and then he said something that seemed funny. Jesus said, “Why are you crying. She isn’t dead, she is only asleep!” Friends are you with us at the hospital? I have invited you into this story. Are you with us at the hospital? Do you hear the reaction of everyone when Jesus says this? The gospel of Mark has these words as their reaction, “And they laughed at him.” They laughed because that is what you do when something so ridiculous as that is said. Make no mistake here, church. She’s not sleeping. She’s not still in a coma. She is dead. You are supposed to look at this story from the resurrection backward and see that God has the power even to raise the dead, sons and daughters!

Well, back to the story. There were just the six of them by her bedside. The machines were still in the room, but disconnected. Jesus reached for her hand and softly said, “Princess, get up.” Her head turned slightly and then with all the strength that she had, she raised up in the bed. I think that it must have been with that look in his eyes and a smile on his face when Jesus teased, “I bet that she’s hungry. You had better get her something to eat.”

Pretty good story, huh? It is quite a story. Jesus told them not to tell anyone about what happened, but how could you not tell this story? Now can I tell you that the story is your story? Oh, I changed the names to protect the, uh, desperate. But my guess is that at some time in your life you have or you will feel like Jarius, desperate, willing to do anything to be whole again. You may seek Jesus for a child. We have certainly witnessed that in our own neighborhood with the Goza family. We have asked Jesus to come and heal Ian and I believe that He has.

But chances are even greater that you will seek Jesus for yourself one day. You will grow tired and weary of dealing with what you are dealing with. It may be a short term thing like it was for the little girl. Or it might be longer termed. You might have been dealing with what you’re dealing with like the woman and he blood. You are tired and desperate. Maybe you have snuck through the crowd and reached from behind to touch His robe. However it has happened, hear again the words of Jesus, “Your faith has made you well. Go in peace and be healed of your disease.”

Let me leave you with this. I believe that what Jesus gave both the woman and the girl was not only wholeness. You can’t miss that from this story. He also gives them their lives back. I suspect that the girl went back to living and that her father went back to the synagogue, though I hope that it changed him. And the woman with the blood, well, I think that she went back to her husband and her family and her church. I think that often when Jesus heals us, He returns us to our lives with wholeness. I believe that that is exactly what Jesus wants to do with us these days. Let us pray.

(Special thanks to Max Lucado who told the story of the preacher in his book, Six Hours One Friday. I have adapted the story for our church and have used it as a way of preaching that is different from what I usually do. Special thanks to all of you who have trusted Jesus with your healing, but most importantly, with your lives. My prayer is that Jesus will restore you to wholeness).