Waiting for Death

Mark 5:21-43

 

William Sloan Coffin observed, “The one true freedom in life is to come to terms with death, and as soon as possible, for death is an event that embraces all our lives.” I guess you could say I am preaching to the choir. These days we attend more funerals that weddings which is pretty remarkable when you consider a funeral is a once in a lifetime event. I suspect most of us have made plans concerning our death. If not, a member of the cemetery committee would be more than delighted to sit down and chat. I plan for my remains to be tossed off Humpback Rock. My grandson promised to take care of the deed as long as I die during the summer.  Death is something we joke about, but seldom think about, until tragedy strikes or someone we love becomes ill and then we realize death is the one thing we all have in common.

Death is not unique, yet we uniquely encounter death in different ways. I have a good friend struggling with what could be a life threatening heart condition. Does he want my thoughts, my ear, my prayers, or my silence? There is no prescribed script in confronting ones mortality.  The one thing I have learned is when death darkens one’s doorstep; thoughts on mortality become delicately heightened.

When a child claims a spot around the family table death is the last conversation considered. New birth brings joy, laughter, a sense of awe just waiting to be discovered.  A few years ago my son went to a local rescue kennel and picked out a dog. David was transformed by this new addition to his family. When he asked why we never had pets I sarcastically responded, “We had you and your sister.” He just shook his head and continued playing fetch with Kaylee. Sixteen months ago his wife gave birth to Molly Jane. Now when Deb and I go to Christiansburg to see our newest grandchild I spend most of my time playing fetch with a dog who wonders what happened to her life.

Children do this to us. Our lives stop as we anxiously await her first word. We pick out her first bicycle before the first step is taken.  Today parents scrutinize Day Care Centers as if they were picking out a college. And with good reason, they cost about the same. Nothing is more precious than a child.  So we don’t have to imagine the panic that overwhelmed Jairus in this morning’s text. One moment his daughter is picking flowers. The next she lays collapsed on the ground gasping for breath. Doctors are called in but they can only shake their heads. Death seems certain. Then someone suggest Jairus go find Jesus. Rumors abound the young man from Galilee heals the sick. Days before Jairus probably had been in the synagogue discussing how the community might rid itself of this charlatan.  But now his daughter is sick. Common sense is placed on the back burner when death enters. Jairus leaves his home, runs to where Jesus was preaching, throws himself at his feet and begs, “Can you save my daughter?” Jesus responded, “Yes I can.” Immediately they rush to see the sick child.

A woman with no name blocks their way, and Jesus stops.  Can you imagine how this must have frustrated Jairus? He didn’t know the woman’s name but he probably knew her story. She had been ill for twelve years. Why should one more day matter? Jesus would be around tomorrow but his daughter would not. Jesus stopped and life ebbed out of the daughters veins. Jesus stopped and a heart so filled with hope was shattered into a million pieces.

That is what death can do to us. We, who proclaim the resurrection, are left speechless when accosted by death. We don’t lose our faith, but our dreams become somewhat bruised. Our formula for life doesn’t include the death of an infant, or a child, or even a young adult.  We offer pithy little sayings like, “A parent should never bury a child.” That might be true but I have never been to any funeral where sadness was absent. Regardless of our faith, death brings a conclusion to life. The relationship ends, the dreams end, and worst of all, the conversations end. Someone is left alone and silent. It is then that I am often asked, “Why did God allow this to happen now?”

The Wisdom of Solomon is a book that did not make it into the Old Testament. If your Bible has an Apocrypha you might glance at it occasionally. The Wisdom of Solomon begins with this radical statement, “God did not make death and God does not delight in the death of the living.” So who do we blame? Jairus blamed the woman who kidnapped Jesus. The woman blamed a community that had tossed her aside. Jesus probably blamed the inevitable. No matter how many folks Jesus heals, death still trudges forward.

I have come to believe this story is much deeper than a girl and woman momentarily escaping death. The miracle is that the woman touched Jesus. Imagine the courage it must have taken for an outcast, an untouchable, to reach out and make contact with a man. She didn’t just want to be healed; she wanted to be acknowledged. She wanted Jesus to recognize her. She wanted to live but she also wanted to experience acceptance and intimacy. She wanted to touch and be touched. So many folks die long before their casket is rolled toward the cemetery. Having lived in isolation much of their life, death completes a life hardly lived.  

I wonder how this story would be told today. I suspect the roles would have been reversed. A woman discovers her husband has a life threatening illness. She is told there is nothing that can be done. In desperation and against all odds she flies to California to speak to a young preacher who has been called a healer. She places an airline ticket in his hand and begs the healer to come with her. As they are leaving the church a 15 year old reaches out and touches the healer. Jesus stops, recognizes emptiness, lets the ticket drop to the ground and embraces the young boy.

Almost everyone within the sound of my voice has come to terms with mortality. We have lived good lives. We have insurance policies which cover any bases we might have overlooked. No one welcomes death but as we slow down we understand life has been good to us. We have lived among friends. Death will bring both closure and hope.

Many young people the age of my grandchildren have lost the ability to imagine a future. They are emotionally hemorrhaging yet hardly noticed. Suicide in children between 7 and 17 is up 70% in the last ten years. Depression and loneliness are often cited as the number one cause. We who are older have come to understand and live with death. Children who have never experienced life are turning to death as an acceptable alternative.

Could it be that they have reached out and no one felt their touch? Miracles happen when our lives are interrupted for the sake of another. Jesus stopped and a life was saved. As we continue our rush from one spot to another perhaps we can occasionally stop and find time for a small soul who has lost his way. It is amazing what a word or a touch might do for someone far too young to be waiting for death.    

To God be the glory.          Amen