The Raising of Jairus’ Daughter

S. Mark v. 21–24, 35–43

S. John closes his Gospel with a declaration that if all the things which Jesus did “should be written every one, .... even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written.” Among the unrecorded miracles, we can hardly doubt, there were many instances of restoration to life. The Evangelists were guided by the Holy Spirit to hand down the

history of only three, and a careful consideration of these has suggested that they were selected of set purpose to represent Christ’s power over death in all its stages. The little daughter of the ruler of the synagogue 1 had only just passed away, and was lying on her death-bed. When the widow’s son at Nain was raised from the bier, he had been dead twenty-four hours or less — for that was the longest time allowed to elapse before the funeral 2 in the East. Lazarus, again, had been buried out of sight for a considerable period, and the process of decomposition had set in.

It is possible, moreover, that there was a further object in the choice, viz., to show forth “a progressive development of the Almighty power,” the raising of Lazarus being, so to speak, a more difficult work than that of the widow’s son, and this again than that of Jairus’ daughter.

Now, while the two other miracles find a place each in one Gospel only, this last is narrated in no less than three. There must therefore be some circumstances connected with it deserving more than common attention.

An apparent discrepancy in the several reports of the father’s words has been a stumbling-block to critical minds; but when rightly interpreted, it will be found confirmatory of the truth, the variety of expression carrying with it an air of naturalness that is quite convincing. He had left his child to all human appearance at the point of death; life was ebbing so fast that when he found Jesus he realised the worst, and, throwing himself at His feet, spoke of her as “dead;” but as he talked with Him, a flash of hope seemed to have crossed his soul that she may have revived; and there is a corresponding change in his language, — he had left her “at the point of death.” Those who know anything of the bed-side watching by the sick and dying will readily understand this alternation of hope and fear, and find no difficulty in the fact that the distracted father should express himself at one moment in one way, at the next in another.

Jesus yielded to his entreaty, and went with him; and we can well imagine that no time would be lost, and the least delay anxiously avoided. But suddenly Christ deliberately stopped; something unusual had occurred, and it was necessary that it should be cleared up before they went any further. He had felt a hand upon Him; it was no common touch, no mere jostling of the crowd, but a touch that had drawn healing virtue from His Person, and that eager hurrying multitude was bidden to halt, till the one who had done this thing should be discovered. We can almost see the agonised expression which must have clouded the poor father’s face. He did not dare to remonstrate, but every moment was precious, and minutes must have seemed like hours. Was it unkind, then, of Jesus to delay at such a time? There were some, no doubt, who thought so. Even S. Peter answered impatiently; but we are sure that one Who was all tenderness could never be really cruel, or do otherwise than feel the keenest sympathy with that intense anxiety. Indeed, so far from that stoppage being a sign of indifference, it was actually designed — fore-ordained for the father’s good. Christ knew, what Jairus did not know, viz., that the child was already dead. He knew also that there was far too little of that faith in his heart which was indispensable for the exercise of miraculous power. There was none of the “venture” which our Lord loved, of the undoubting conviction that He was able to do all that was asked of Him, no simple appeal to “speak the word only” which marked implicit trust; Y and in Plis tender compassion He took these means to strengthen his faith by a demonstration of power.

The message which was brought to him from home at that moment was calculated to have the very opposite effect. Perhaps Jairus’ friends had discouraged his journey; they may have heard as yet of no one being raised from the dead; and it would be useless to send for One to heal her sickness, when she would certainly be dead before the Physician could arrive. And they lost up time in hurrying after him, as soon as their fears were fulfilled, and brought the tidings, “Thy daughter is dead,” and urged him at once to return: “Why troublest 1 thou the Master any further?”

Now see how wonderfully all had been ordered. Had those messengers arrived ever so little sooner, Jairus might have lost all heart, and abandoned his petition, and his little child would never have been restored to him again. But their arrival exactly coincided with His miraculous cure of the woman with the issue of blood; and as He had just given proof of His power, so again He interposes with further encouragement at the critical juncture: “Be not afraid, only believe.”

And what He meant by His words was simply this: “Thou hast seen a poor sufferer healed of her infirmity by the touch of faith; cherish the same undoubting confidence in My power, and thou shalt see greater things than this.”

That act of healing and that word of assurance swept away all lingering doubt, and he went on his way rejoicing. But when they reached the house, they were confronted by every sign and token of death. It was filled with hired mourners, persons whose duty it was to make death appear as sad as possible, a thing to vex the mind with the most painful associations.

We can conceive no greater contrast than that between the wild shrieks and wailings of the mercenaries, and the calm consolatory utterance of Jesus: “The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth.” He did not mean that life had not fled, because there could be no doubt on that point, but that death was not what most men thought. “In the eyes of God we are not dead, we only sleep. God is not the God of the dead, but of the living, and when He is near, death is but a sleep.” “Our friend Lazarus sleepeth, but I go that I may awake him out of sleep.”

And when Jesus had rebuked the tumult, He entered the chamber where she lay, and, taking her hand, said, “Talitha cumi,” l and she obeyed the word of omnipotence, and arose and walked. No wonder S. Mark should have recorded the exceeding astonishment with which the miracle was witnessed; for in all probability it was one of the earliest occasions upon which He had shown Himself triumphant over death.

His last command was that “something should be given her to eat.” In its literal application it speaks of the tenderest forethought, but when spiritually interpreted it involves a principle too often lost sight of, in the restoration of those that are morally dead. To awaken the sinner to a sense of his guilt, and to draw him up out of the degradation in which he has been sunk, is only the first step, albeit a most important one; but the restored life needs proper sustenance; and unless fresh help and unfailing food be provided, “the last state of that man is worse than the first.”

If the history of many of those Missions which are such a characteristic of this generation were to be written, there would be tale after tale of reclaimed sinners relapsing into sin, simply because efforts were relaxed when the excitement had passed; because conversion was regarded as the end, rather than the first step only, in the ever-progressing advance of a Godward life.

The Church’s true mission is to follow in her Master’s steps, and, reading the inner meaning of His acts and words, first to take the sleeping soul by the hand and bid it “arise,” and then after the awakening to strengthen it with the lifegiving food of Him Who said, “Whoso eateth My flesh, and drinketh My blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up’ at the last day.”

Note: Jairus was the president of the elders of the synagogue, by whom all its affairs were managed. Lightfoot, quoting from the Talmud, says that he gave orders who should read the Prophets, who should recite the Phylacteries, and who should pass before the Ark. The subordinate officers were the “Delegate,” who read the prayers; the Chazzan, or deacon; and the Batlanim, whose exact office is much disputed.

Note: Burial must take place before the expiration of the day on which one died. For all the particulars connected with an Oriental funeral, cf. Thomson, The Land and the Book, 99-106.

Note: Nothing short of our Lord’s presence would satisfy him. He must come and take some outward means for her restoration — “Come and lay Thy hand upon her.”

Note: “Troublest.” — The original word is almost untranslatable. It means to flay, excoriate; hence to vex, annoy.

Note: Some writers have assumed from this that she was only in a trance, and that no miracle was performed: but our Lord uses the same language of Lazarus; and in Jewish phraseology death is most commonly spoken of as sleep; cf. Lightfoot in loco.

Note: S. Mark alone gives the very words used by our Lord, as on other occasions. Talitha is a term of tenderness and endearment. S. Peter must have remembered this when he said, “Tabitha, arise” (Acts ix. 40).