A sermon preached by Dr. John Clayton at Covenant Presbyterian Church of Fort Smith, Arkansas on April 6, 2025.
Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. And there came a man named Jairus, who was a ruler of the synagogue. And falling at Jesus’ feet, he implored him to come to his house, for he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying.
As Jesus went, the people pressed around him. And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone. She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased. And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!” But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.” And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”
While he was still speaking, someone from the ruler’s house came and said, “Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the Teacher any more.” But Jesus on hearing this answered him, “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well.” And when he came to the house, he allowed no one to enter with him, except Peter and John and James, and the father and mother of the child. And all were weeping and mourning for her, but he said, “Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. But taking her by the hand he called, saying, “Child, arise.” And her spirit returned, and she got up at once. And he directed that something should be given her to eat. And her parents were amazed, but he charged them to tell no one what had happened (Luke 8:40–56).[1]
When Jesus supernaturally delivered a man from demon possession in the land of the pagan Garasenes, the people couldn’t wait for him to leave. As is the case even today, Jesus can just be too much for some people. But across the Sea of Galilee, the people of Capernaum couldn’t wait for his return, especially the leader of the synagogue, a man named Jairus. Surely, he had heard Jesus’ teaching and witnessed his miracles before. But witnessing the miraculous and needing it are two different things. As Luke reveals, Jairus’ only daughter lay dying. He needed a miracle.
Pleading for Provision
We don’t know how long Jairus had waited for Jesus, but it was long enough for his little girl to move from sick to dying. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and Jairus wasted no time finding Jesus. But it was his posture before Jesus that tells of his desperation: “falling at Jesus’ feet, he implored him to come to his house, for he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying” (8:41-42). There was no time to converse, no time to persuade; he pleaded on his knees for Jesus to come immediately and heal his dying daughter.
Of course, Jesus did not have to physically go to save her. When the centurion’s servant lay dying, he sent word to Jesus, “But say the word, and let my servant be healed” (Luke 7:7). And so it happened without Jesus ever darkening the centurion’s door: “when those who had been sent returned to the house, they found the servant well” (7:10). Jesus could have done the same for Jairus daughter, but he didn’t. Why, we must leave to speculation, but this we can be sure: God’s purpose in what he does is not according to the efficiency of our timing or the efficacy of our intentions but for his glory.
Many of us can relate to this man’s pleading, can’t we? We would rather be sick than see our child suffering. Were we in Jairus’ place, we would do the same, falling on our knees before Jesus, interceding on our child’s behalf, utterly dependent upon the Lord’s provision for the one we love. As Jairus pleaded, we likewise pray, “offering up of our desires unto God, for things agreeable to his will.”[2]
Desperation can lead us to pray like we have never prayed before, but we need not wait for desperate times to pray dependently. In fact, the very act of prayer is a decided dependence upon the Lord for all things, for the monumental and mundane. We are to be anxious in nothing, “but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving,” making our requests to God and so receiving in return “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Phil. 4:6-7). In contrast, not praying reveals an unhealthy indifference for others as well as God’s provision. Therefore, we are to be a praying people.
The apostle Paul tells us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess. 5:17), which connotes a consistent posture of dependence upon the Lord’s provision, whether pleading upon our knees or walking in the park. The discipline of prayer then develops into a daily dialogue with the Lord, resulting in a contentment with the Lord’s provision in all things, and finding ourselves more readily prepared to petition the Lord, casting our cares upon him, for ourselves and for those whom we love.
Reaching for Relief
Void of personal space, Jesus was pressed by the people en route to Jairus’ house, an entourage expecting the miraculous, among them a woman also in need of a miracle. Think about this: For the same number of years Jairus’ daughter had been alive, this woman had suffered, ceaselessly bleeding, rendering her not only unhealthy physically and financially, but also ritually. According to ceremonial law, she was prohibited from joining in congregational worship, unable to have others into her home, unable to touch another, hug another, hold the hand of any other hand but her own, lest she render them ritually unclean too. This was the life she had known, for twelve long years. Her obscurity then may explain how she so easily slipped into the crowd unnoticed, hoping to be healed by Jesus, even if by the fringe of his garment. Which is exactly what happened: “She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased” (8:44) In that moment, she instantly knew it, and Jesus did too, asking, “Who was it that touched me?” (8:45).
You can hear the incredulity in Peter’s remark, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!” (8:45). As if to say, “Who isn’t touching you?” But Jesus’ question and perception were not for information. Jesus knew what she knew, and then she knew that he knew. He was seeking a profession, because healing came not through a garment’s fringe but the gift of faith. And so, “she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed” (8:47).
Why did Jesus do this? She was healed after all. Why not let her go on with her life, enjoying the blessed life of good health that Jesus had given? Why did anyone else need to know? Why was her public profession necessary? Because Jesus’ miracles were never an end in themselves. They were always pointing to something greater. The point was not her healing but who healed her.
Faith in Christ is not a secret to be kept but a testimony to be shared, not of what we have done but what he has done for us. When God’s saving grace is bestowed upon those whom he loves, as a father loves his child, he grants them the privilege to tell the world. To be healed from disease in this life is indeed a blessing, but to be saved by grace through faith to eternal life is the greatest miracle of all. As a woman, she was healed of her disease, but as a “daughter,” she was granted peace.
Trusting when Troubled
The problem, as Luke reveals, was this providential encounter delayed Jesus’ arrival at Jairus home. No sooner had Jesus said to the woman, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace” (8:48), Jairus received word, “Your daughter is dead” (8:49). This was not what he had hoped for, pleaded for. And it makes you wonder: What if they had walked a little faster? What if the woman would have waited? What if Jairus had just said, “Say the word”? What if Jesus had hurried? Why does it seem sometimes like God is late?
We don’t know Jairus’ response to the news of his daughter’s death, but we get a glimpse through Jesus’ instruction: “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well” (8:50). We can understand Jesus’ empathy, but why, “Do not fear”? Why not anger? Why not despair? Why not sorrow? Why fear? Because, fear is the antithesis of faith. In that moment, surely Jairus was tempted to fear that all hope was lost, to fear that the last enemy[3] had taken his daughter, to fear that Jesus the teacher could not triumph over death. To all these fears, and more, Jesus said, “only believe.”
“Faith and fear always stand in opposition,” Phil Ryken says. “This means that we have a choice to make: either we can be afraid of all the things that might go wrong, and have gone wrong, or we can trust Jesus to see us through.”[4] How often, when troubles come, do we immediately swing toward fear rather than faith? Some may believe that fear is our part to play in petitioning the Lord, when it really accomplishes nothing more than an unhealthy distrust in God’s provision. We must silence our fears then with faith: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (Prov. 3:5-6). True, the straightness of our paths can be distorted by fearful perception. Jairus thought his path led straight to his house, but Jesus instead taught him his straight path was from fear to faith.
Of course, we are also tempted to be fearful when everyone else is, like the mourners who surrounded Jairus’ house. Courageously confronting them, Jesus said, “Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping” (8:52). She was indeed dead, and so they laughed. But Jesus was not giving a medical diagnosis but a doctrinal distinction. When he who is the way, the truth, and the life summons a reunion of body and spirit, when he who is sovereign over life and death took her hand and said, “Child, arise” (8:54), it was as if she who was dead had only been sleeping.
Jesus’ concern was not for the fickle crowd but in caring for Jairus’ daughter. Entering his home with only the three-fold witness of Peter, James, and John, Jesus immediately restored the little girl to life and then revealed his concern for her even in the seemingly trivial: “he directed that something should be given her to eat” (8:55). The Lord Jesus cared for her, for her loving parents, and the life-giving nourishment of a meal. And he cares for you and me too, in all things great and small.
The apostle Peter, who witnessed the miracle first-hand, instructs us to humbly cast our cares upon the Lord. Why? Because, Peter says, “he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7). He cares intimately, deeply, specifically what you are going through in this very moment. Just as Jairus could not bring his daughter back to life but trusted Jesus when he said, “Do not fear; only believe,” so we are not meant to carry our fears and worries but to trust the Lord to provide precisely what we need, when we need it.
There are times when God seems late, when his timing does not align with our timing, and this can breed frustration even doubt. But think about this with me: If “by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible,” and if “all things were created through him and for him,” and if “in him all things hold together” (Col. 1:16-17), and if “he upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Heb. 1:3), is he really ever late? And if all who are in Christ have been “predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will” (Col. 1:11), then when God seems late, he’s actually right on time. The problem then is our perception of God’s provision according to our timing, not his. And it’s a powerful perception, because we don’t like to wait, do we? But Jeremiah says, “The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (Lam. 3:25-26). It is good for us to wait (even quietly!), learning to always trust the Lord, knowing that God is most glorified in us, when we are most dependent upon him.
[1] Unless referenced otherwise, all Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version (Wheaton: Crossway Bibles, 2001).
[2] “The Shorter Catechism” Q. 98, The Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms (Lawrenceville: PCA Christian Education and Publications, 2007), 400-401.
[3] 1 Cor. 15:26
[4] Philip Graham Ryken, Luke, Vol. 1 (Phillipsburg: P&R Publishing, 2009), 414.