Sermon by Rev Sydney Maitland for Sunday 30 June 2024.
• First Reading: 2 Samuel 1: 1, 17-27 (David’s lament over Saul and Jonathan)
• Epistle: 2 Corinthians 8: 7-15 (You excel in everything – so excel also in giving)
• Gospel: Mark 5: 21-43 (Healings: the woman with chronic bleeding, Jairus’ daughter)
The coronation of the King was a joyful occasion with music, pageantry, military parades and a wealth of musicians and specially commissioned music.
The occasion of his accession however was much more sombre as it came with death of the late Queen, Elizabeth II.
In this the nation came together to mourn – and to be led in our mourning by the new king. The music, pageantry and parades were all muted and taken with a clear and studied gravity. And so the nation passed from mourning to celebration, the new Carolean era was at hand, and not without its pressing issues and challenges.
Compare this with the accession of David, son of Jesse of Bethlehem, to the crown of Judah. As with our own proclamation, ‘The Queen is dead. Long live the King’ David became king upon the passing of Saul, the first king of Israel. At first only over Judah, and even here he had to be accepted by his kinsmen. It would be a few years before he was accepted as king over all the tribes of Israel.
But the first thing he did was also to mourn the passing of Saul, anointed of the Lord as king, and Jonathan his son with whom David had developed a deep and abiding friendship: a joining of souls as they worshipped and trusted the Lord together.
David’s own family had been condescending towards him, reluctant to call him in from the flocks to meet Samuel and then distant when he appeared in the Israelite camp as they confronted – or rather cowered from the Philistines.
But in Jonathan he had found a friendship and a loyalty beyond what was there in his own family.
And so David spoke out in his grief: ‘A gazelle lies slain on your heights, Israel. How the mighty have fallen!’
His was a reign that started in grief and sorrow, went on to conquest and glory, but was also tainted by personal sin and by grief arising from his own rebellious children.
David was having to place his trust in God above his personal sorrow. Yet he would take Jerusalem, and claim it as his own. It would be the site for the temple for which he would plan and prepare stores.
He would extend the borders of Israel and increase its wealth. But above all his faith would continue, challenged by many tests and trials. And out of this would come his book of prayers and songs, which we still honour in our worship today.
The gospel also shows a tension, also of faith: this time in those looking for the presence and healing power of Jesus.
One suppliant was the ruler of the synagogue: established, respected and with a settled place in the community. But not protected from the hazards of life.
If he wanted healing for his daughter from Jesus, then he was going to have to ask for it – and do so in public. He would have to come before Jesus who had already been taking authority over the way the sabbath was to be observed, and was busy leading a ‘Back to Basics’ campaign over the interpretation and application of the law of Moses.
And so Jairus was going to have to give his tacit consent to that teaching, and would have to face down the Pharisees from Jerusalem and elsewhere who came to criticize Jesus.
And not only that but he would have to put up with interruptions as he led Jesus to his house. And if that was not enough he would then have to work through the news of the death of his daughter and Jesus’ challenge to him to believe, even in this personal crisis.
Jairus was on a steep learning curve, having in the space of maybe half to three quarters of an hour had to learn some very pertinent lessons.
It was not just Jesus’ authority over the sabbath that he would have to accept: it was also His authority over death.
Then there was the haemorrhaging woman, weakened by years of this unrelenting debility, kept indoors and undermined and excluded in every social interaction.
There was no normal life for her, and yet hearing of Jesus’ approach, she went for broke. Risking discovery and thus possible stoning and certain further exclusion, she went out anyway.
It was a desperation driving her into the crowd, possibly her only chance. There may never be another. Even to get close, touch His cloak, surely that would be enough.
This kind of faith also demanded courage. There was a personal risk, and of course the possibility of disappointment. She might not even get close enough but she had to try.
Both Jairus and the unnamed woman were having to exercise a personal faith in public. They probably knew each other. Each was having to come before Jesus in a state of need and even weakness, having nothing to offer or bargain with.
Just as King David rose above his grief at the death of Saul and Jonathan, so also Jairus and the unnamed woman of Capernaum had to step outside their comfort zones and take risks in the area of personal faith and a willingness to let it be seen.
That is the challenge for us in our own time and lives.
