Sun Kwak, “Knocking on the Door”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=na9kTWth3hs

TEXT: Mark 5:21-43

[21] And when Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered about him, and he was beside the sea. [22] Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name, and seeing him, he fell at his feet [23] and implored him earnestly, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well and live.” [24] And he went with him.

And a great crowd followed him and thronged about him. [25] And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, [26] and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. [27] She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. [28] For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.” [29] And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. [30] And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” [31] And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’” [32] And he looked around to see who had done it. [33] But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told him the whole truth. [34] And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

[35] While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” [36] But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” [37] And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James. [38] They came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and Jesus saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. [39] And when he had entered, he said to them, “Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping.” [40] And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and went in where the child was. [41] Taking her by the hand he said to her, “Talitha cumi,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” [42] And immediately the girl got up and began walking (for she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. [43] And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

SERMON: “Knocking on the Door”

There’s a movie that came out some years back Changing Lanes, starring Samuel L. Jackson and Ben Affleck, whose lives literally merge together on the freeway. Samuel L. Jackson plays Doyle Gipson, who’s a middle-aged man living paycheck to paycheck. His wife and kids have left him, because he had some back habits. But he’s gotten his life back on track. And in this opening scene, he’s on an important drive — one that involves legal proof and measures to get his family back with him, now that he’s gotten his life together. It’s really the only thing he wants. In the meantime, Ben Affleck’s character Gavin is a well to do attorney, who married into the family law firm. You can tell the differences in their lifestyles, just based off of the cars they drive and the ways they’re dressed. And their lives would never collide in this way, unless there was a common means. And in this case, it’s the freeway, which does not discriminate according to social classes. So, they get into a car accident. And Gavin can’t afford to lose time. But Doyle needs things to be done in order. But they’re both on the road at critical moments in their respective lives. And because the way things unravel, both end up losing out. Gavin loses some important files, and Doyle misses his appointment. And so, the movie develops to show the slow destruction of each character. But there’s a part toward the end of the movie, where they hit another common convergence — which is rock bottom. And here, Gavin is looking at some less fortunate familyin a part of town he usually doesn’t frequent. And his heart starts feeling for people he never considered before. And so, he begins to feel for Doyle and for his situation. Something that he had to learn through losing, through waiting, through having to reflect upon the priorities of this life. And so, the movie has a happy ending, but it’s a resolution that didn’t come about until the heart of Gavin was transformed.

One of my friends and fellow pastor in this area Kevin Bailey who pastors Anthem Camarillo. Back when I was trying to get our church going, he let me in on some of what makes Anthem tick. And the pictures I remember were these on ramps — be it Sunday worship or Community Groups or Women’s Ministry. These on ramps were there to bring people into convergence of doing life together and being a church together, because we’re all on the freeway of life, finding our way to God. And in our story here in Mark 5, with some characters who are on the common convergence of looking for and needing Jesus, their stories collide in ways they never would have otherwise. And much like Gavin and Doyle, when in pressing situations and needing to use the freeway to get to where they want to go, when their lives converge and their vehicles collide, things go a different way than expected. And that’s often the case in the church. And certainly for Jairus, who’s a synagogue ruler, meaning he’s a man of influence, a lay leader who has means and is well-respected in his community. He has to make some accommodations, because it seems this bleeding woman we looked at last week merging into his time and space. But as Jairus sees Jesus minister to this bleeding woman — someone of no social status and publicly ostracized. As he’s observing this, and he’s brought to convergence with someone in society that he would otherwise have no interactions with. Through Jesus and through this encounter, he learns an incredibly important lesson about Jesus and his upside down kingdom. Because here’s how desperate Jairus is. He’s once again, a synagogue ruler. And he’s taking a risk in coming to Jesus, a man that many of his colleagues were not fond of. Here was a man that many around him were trying to indict and to bring down. And he’s not doing what Nicodemus is doing. He doesn’t approach Jesus while it was dark. He’s coming to Jesus in broad daylight, in a public fashion, and kneeling before him. And in doing this, he’s putting everything on the line in committing to Jesus and trusting that he can provide for him what no one else could. And here’s what I think captures what we’re looking to sit in as we investigate this passage. There’s something compelling about Jesus. Yes, he can heal — that’s the convergence here. But this converging a people of difference — he’s been doing this throughout the history of the church. And here’s Jairus, in observing this radical convergence, brought to that place where he comes to know — I need Jesus just as much as this woman does.

I can’t help but wonder what it might have been like for Jairus here. I mean, he laid his cards on the table. He’s all in at this point. And if we’re talking in poker terms, he has more chips than this woman does. But Jesus makes him wait in this desperate situation. Judy and I met some friends in Philadelphia when we first moved there back in 2015. When we moved there, they had just lost their son who was just five years of age. They shared that they did everything they could to try to get him to live — every financial thing, every perceivable spiritual thing, even things that they wouldn’t considerable viable. Because that’s the heart of a parent, and there’s nothing worse imaginable for a parent than to lose a child. And I get that. So, I wonder what Jairus is thinking here, when it seems like Jesus is talking to this bleeding woman, whose story while sad doesn’t seem as immediately urgent as his daughter’s who’s on the brink of death. And something Mark’s Gospel doesn’t include but Luke’s Gospel does in a parallel passage — this was not just his daughter but his only child. And so, he had to have rising up in him an urge to grab Jesus, as he’s seemingly stalling and causing him to wait. To grab him and verbalize — Did you not hear? I said my daughter, my only child is about to die. The situation was dire and his heart was desperate, so we’d expect that to be narrated. But we actually don’t get any of that. There’s no recording anywhere of some form of self-indignation or privileged complaining. There’s no — Do you know who I am? And why would you stop for her? moment from Jairus. But from what we know in the text, he’s just following along, and he’s observing. And from what I can tell, he’s learning.

For once again, he’s already made a commitment. And there’s something about Jesus, where he’s convinced that he’s worth giving up his life and his reputation and his status for. That there was something so believable about him. And on this journey, Jesus teaches him a few things, one of which comes at the end of the story of this bleeding woman, when he calls this ostracized woman daughter. Jesus could have called her anything, but he calls her by this intimate family relationship, calling her daughter, as if to show Jairus — She’s just as valuable as you and your daughter at home. And so, we’re told here in verse 35 that while he was speaking and dignifying this woman, someone from Jairus’ home came and told him that his daughter is now dead. And this was again while Jesus was speaking to the bleeding woman— the one that he stopped in order to talk to. All time that could have been used to get to Jairus’ home as soon as possible. But no, this rich man’s daughter is now dead with Jesus taking time to talk to this socially ostracized woman. And so, in the very next verse, Jesus looks upon Jairus and tells him — Do not fear, only believe. And I don’t know how he took those words.

I remember when the Detroit Lions in 2024 played the San Francisco 49ers in the NFC Championship. Winner gets to go to the Super Bowl, something the Lions had never done in the history of their sorry franchise. But after the game, Coach Dan Campbell addresses his losing team with sobering words — This may have been our only shot. And they have opportunities every season. But sometimes, when the moment passes, the opportunities do as well. Do not fear, only believe. Jairus, if he was just there for his daughter’s healing, had no reason to stay. He lost that shot. But what does Jesus say? Do not fear, only believe. Jairus’ response could have been — It’s too late. You let her die. But that’s not his response, and I think it teaches us something. Because these are words that Mark carefully wraps together. For it was Jesus who told the bleeding woman just now that it was her faith, her believing that made her well just moments before. And it was in the storm that the disciples were afraid of losing their lives. But upon seeing Jesusstill the storm, they were said to be filled with great fear, as Jesus would ask them — Have you no faith? And here, in this storm, so to speak, Jesus is calling for Jairus to place the storms of his hearts into the hands of Jesus. And he had no assurance that Jesus would raise his daughter. For all he knew, she was long gone. But he stays, and I think it’s an incredible testament to his faith. He’s not staying with Jesus for his daughter — he’s staying with Jesus for Jesus. And it’s confusing, and he may have been in shambles. But he’s trusting that Jesus will piece something together for him. And as a parent, I can’t think of a bigger storm than to feel helpless about the life of your child who’s in danger. I remember confessing in one of our Community Groups gatherings a while back of how I feel like I’m okay putting my life in Jesus’ hands. But my kids? I feel like I need to have all the answers for that before just trusting. And so, here is this incredibly delicate situation. And Jesus calls upon Jairus — Do not fear; just believe.

And here, I’m going to ask the question that I’m sure that many, if not all of us, might be asking. Why did Jesus have to wait for this little girl to die? And I don’t think it’s just because he had to stop to heal the bleeding woman. But I think there’s intentionality here. Because Jesus is the consummate teacher, and I think he’s using these moments to teach his disciples and Jairus, who’s following his every step. Because he enters the home, and it’s just commotion and chaos. These are just semblances of external mourning that’s performed by these professional mourners. And to these people and those around the situation, he tells them that the girl isn’t dead but merely asleep. And something that Elbert McGowan, a pastor in our denomination, says is that Jesus is being laughed at here, because it sounds ridiculous and without good reason. But he says that she’s sleeping, because he knows where she is. She’s safely tucked into his Father’s arms at the moment. And it was just a little nap she was taking before snack time.

And so, we read in verse 41 — Taking her by the hand he said to her, ‘Talitha cumi,’ which means, ‘Little girl, I say to you, arise.’ And these words talitha cumi. Commentators universally note that the word talitha is a term of endearment. It’s similar to how we might say something like sweetheart. But then, the second word cumi is a term of endearment often used of to speak to younger children. But it was literally the feminine case of little lamb. And you think about it. Who calls one little lamb? Here, Jesus speaks in the voice of the shepherd, as he calls into death the life of this little girl. And this voice we read of in John 10:14-15: “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.“ And to Jairus, here is Jesus showing why he had waited for this little girl to die. Because before he is to be her healer, he was and is first and foremost her shepherd. And by waiting for her to die, he was committing to lay down his life for her. For in Numbers 19:11, we’re told that those who come in contact with corpses are deemed ceremonially unclean. And here is Jesus who is reaching into death not because of the status of Jairus or his influence or reputation. But due to the utter helplessness of the child and his commitment to trade places with her, as he takes her by the hand, and thereby, touches her and takes upon her uncleanness. For in the Mishnah, there were several grades and levels of uncleanness described. And at the very top was when one came in contact with a human corpse.

And for this little girl to radiate with new life, here was Jesus committing to utter uncleanness and being cast out. Where on the cross, for the sake of his sinful people, he would take upon our deepest maladies and commit to entering death in order that we might radiate with life. Suffering the consequences of the most extreme uncleanness in order to make us alive to live in the house of our holy God. And so, you see, for this family, for you and me here in this community, what brings us together is not our offerings but rather our need. Jesus needed to show Jairus that more important than being his daughter’s healer was being her shepherd — he who would lay down his life for his sheep. And it’s with this posture of nothingness and helplessness that we come to Jesus today. To his table of grace that’s universally extended to us who realize that we have a need, a lack, a wanting. But when Jesus is our shepherd, we shall not lack, we shall not be in want.

One final detail here that I want to observe. When we read Jairus telling Jesus that his little girl is at the point of deathin verse 23, that’s a light translation. It’s better translated that death was at the door. For here we have an urgent situation. And Jean Vanier notes something about Jesus that moves him in his old age, near eighty years. And what he quotes is that when Jesus says to the church in Laodicea that he knocks at the door in Revelation 3:20, it doesn’t say that he’s pounding the door or kicking down the door. But it’s a gentle knock. One that we’re sensitive to hear and listen for when we’re attuned to the voice of our shepherd. And when Sinclair Ferguson would administer the Lord’s Table, that’s the very verse he would use most frequently to lead people to the Table for the Lord’s Supper. Asking if we might hear Jesus knocking on the door.

And that’s what I want to ask in closing today. Do you hear the knock on the door? For a few of us, that might be an urgent situation, like a daughter at the point of death at home. But I presume that for most of us, that knock might not feel that urgent. Maybe it’s a recent argument with a spouse. Maybe it’s a gap in time since you’ve spoken to your children. Maybe it’s some injustice experienced at work. Maybe it’s the concerns that keep you up at night fifteen minutes more than you need to be awake. When you consider the church in Laodicea, we have Jesus who says that he’s knocking at the door, because he wants to dine with them. For he fights for space in order to feed and to nourish us, to commune with us. And I presume that this is a different picture than the one we subconsciously conjure up in our minds about God at the front door of our hearts. Maybe we’re thinking more along the lines of police officers with a warrant to search the home. But that’s not what we read. It’s a gentle knock — not to investigate, not to probe, not to condemn, not to confiscate. First and foremost, to dine, to sit at the table with you.

If you’re hearing that knock this morning, don’t fear, just believe. You might not be able to see the hand of God’s goodness in your life but trust his heart. And look upon the story of the shepherd who laid down his life for his stained, filthy, and unclean sheep. And we noted that while Mark doesn’t include this detail. But Luke in his Gospel says that this little girl brought to life was Jairus’ only daughter and likely his only child. And wouldn’t God know something about this? When he would lose his Son, his only begotten Son, when he hung and died on the cross and for our sins? So, wouldn’t he draw near to this family’s needs? And don’t you trust that he’ll draw near to yours? Place your trust in the only hands that are able to handle all the griefs and sorrows that this world can throw at us. In the hands of Jesusare certain hands, while these are pierced hands, marked with our sins and our deserving punishment. These are the hands of our shepherd, holding up his staff and calling for us that we might look upon him, that we might hear him speak and knock. That we might believe. These are the hands that reached into death, taking Jairus’ daughter’s hand. And these are the hands that would reach up to the heavens. And it was Jesus, crying out to his Father, who would ultimately lose his Father’s hand so that you and I never will. In our deepest confusion, through our darkest days, don’t fear; just believe.