In sickness and in health
Laura Rademaker
Perfected in weakness • Sermon • Submitted • Presented • 24:56
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There was a man I knew well who was looking forward to enjoying his retirement. He planned to spend it volunteering in his community and church, travelling, and being deeply involved in raising his young grandchildren. But a routine medical scan showed a mysterious grey splodge in his skull. They doctors didn’t know what it was, so it was watch and wait. Over the next few weeks, he had trouble remembering words. Maybe he was just tired, he thought. But it only got worse. A follow up scan revealed it was as he feared. Brain cancer. Terminal. He had surgery that week. When he woke up, he could no longer speak at all and had lost movement down one side of his body. Things improved and got worse, and improved a bit, and got worse again, with all the rounds of chemo and radio until he died. He was 63.
He didn’t smoke. He exercised. He ate a healthy diet. He was not overweight. He did everything right.
He had been an outstanding member of the community, volunteering for rotary, organising community events, supporting kids sport. He was a Christian. He’d led a home bible study group for years. He’d even been a church warden. He prayed. We all prayed.
He still got sick and then he died.
Where is God?
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Now some of you who know me well enough and remember when I was here in 2020 will know I’m talking about my own father. Many of you will have prayed for him yourself.
And as much as his sickness was a recent tragedy in my own family that whichever way you put it, makes no sense, I know everyone here, no doubt, has a similar story of a friend or family member or even yourself – of sickness that makes no sense, that even led to death.
My dad’s story, sadly, is not exceptional or unusual. It is common.
I tell this story because sickness doesn’t make sense and healing doesn’t always come when we would hope.
And so, the question is, ‘where is God in our sickness?’
Now I have to admit I feel a bit underqualified for this sermon. As you know, Phil is taking us through a series on God in weakness. He is eminently qualified to talk about disability. But when Phil asked if I would do the week on sickness, at first I wondered if I was the right person. You see, I’ve never really been sick. I’ve only been hospitalised to have my three children, and they were each remarkably straightforward births. I’ve never even broken a bone! Sometimes I get hay fever or a bad cold. And please excuse my croaky voice this morning.
That’s just to say, I’m not speaking from experience here. I’ve not felt what it feels like to really be sick and to face God with these questions.
But don’t switch off just yet. Because I am convinced that God’s Holy Spirit speaks powerfully through his Word, through the scriptures. I pray that this story of Jesus healing the woman and the girl will be God’s word to you today.
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The passage today doesn’t give us an answer to the question of why God allows us to get sick or why not everyone is healed. But it does tell us three things that give me great hope.
1. In sickness, Jesus wants us to know him
2. In sickness, Jesus wants us to trust him
3. In sickness, Jesus leads us where he has already been
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So let’s go back to the story. Read with me.
Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. 41 Just then there came a man named Jairus, a leader of the synagogue. He fell at Jesus’s feet and began pleading with him to come to his house, 42 for he had an only daughter, about twelve years old, and she was dying.
As he went, the crowds pressed in on him. 43 Now there was a woman who had been suffering from a flow of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all she had on physicians,[l] no one could cure her. 44 She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, and immediately her flow of blood stopped.
Jairus is a well respected leader in the community. And although he is a religious leader, he humbly approaches Jesus and falls at his feet. His 12 year old daughter is dying. You couldn’t have asked for a more worthy person or a more deserving case.
But Jesus gets distracted when a woman touches his cloak.
We don’t learn the name of the woman. She had been bleeding for twelve years – she had been bleeding for the whole time Jairus’ daughter was alive. She was desperate, having tried every possible cure and gone to every doctor she could find. Her condition meant not only physical exhaustion – she was probably always low in iron – but far worse, social isolation and religious exclusion as someone who was forever ritually unclean. Her sickness, she would have believed, meant she could never be close to God. It was a sign, many might have thought, that she was cursed and rejected by God.
But of course, that was far from true.
God had not rejected her.
She simply touched the edge of Jesus’ coat, and was healed. Immediately.
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But what happened next would have surprised everyone.
45 Then Jesus asked, “Who touched me?” When they all denied it, Peter[m] said, “Master, the crowds are hemming you in and pressing against you.” 46 But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I noticed that power had gone out from me.”
Jesus, you’re meant to be hurrying on to heal Jairus’ dying daughter!
But Jesus deliberately waited. Everyone knows in a medical emergency with multiple casualties you’re meant to triage the urgent cases first. Surely healing Jairus’ dying 12 year old was more urgent than having a chat with the old bleeding woman. I mean couldn’t he have come back to her later? The disciples seem a bit more rational. Jesus! Don’t get distracted! This is an emergency! What could be more important than healing a dying child? No wonder the disciples are exasperated. It’s shocking, even scandalous that something could be more pressing to Jesus than healing a dying child.
And what was it that Jesus stopped to do?
He wanted to meet this woman and to give her the opportunity, not only to be healed by him but to know him.
The disciples don’t get it. They tell Jesus to move on. It doesn’t matter who got healed there are more important things than meeting this woman. But meeting her mattered to Jesus.
You see, in our sickness and in our healing, Jesus wants us most of all to know him.
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Let’s keep reading.
When the woman realized that she could not remain hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him, she declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him and how she had been immediately healed. 48 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”
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This is an artwork by Jens Haaning that hangs in the museum of Modern Art in Aalborg, Denmark. It’s called Take the Money and Run.
Looks like there’s nothing there? Yes that’s right. It’s a blank canvas.
You see the artist was given cash to incorporate into his artwork, but instead presented the gallery with a blank canvas.
What we see in Luke 8 is an attempt to take the healing and run.
The woman wanted something from Jesus – healing – but wanted to give him a blank canvas. She did not want to engage. She didn’t want him to know her.
Now you can hardly blame her. In her case, it’s shame. Shame about her illness, her desperation, about her a woman having touched a man’s clothes. She hopes Jesus will heal her, but deep down she assumes he still won’t accept her, let alone want to know her.
But there are other reasons you might pray for healing without wanting Jesus to come into other parts of your life. Perhaps it’s discomfort about becoming so vulnerable, so desperate. Perhaps you just want things to go back to exactly how they were before sickness got in the way and pretend it never happened.
But what’s scandalous here is that Jesus thinks that knowing him is even more important than being healed by him.
You’ll notice that Jesus explained to the woman that ‘your faith has healed you.’ That is, it’s not some magic. Jesus is not a magic charm where if you just say the right words, or do the right things, or touch his garment the right way, then healing will be the result. He will not be reduced to a magical object. He’s a person. He wants us to know him and trust him – that is, he wants faith. He doesn’t want us to take the healing and run, he wants to offer us something better.
If you are sick. I’m praying that you will be healed. And if you are healed, I’m praying that Jesus will use this healing to allow you to know him in a more profound way, just as for that woman. And if you are not healed I am praying the same thing, that Jesus will use this sickness to meet you in a more profound way.
Daughter, go in peace, he says.
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But then Jesus is interrupted.
While he was still speaking, someone came from the synagogue leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the teacher any longer.”
I know two pastors in Canberra who were both diagnosed with lung cancer. In a way, they are quite similar to Jairus – respected religious leaders. One, Dave McDonald, was my own pastor when I was at Crossroads Christian Church. Out of the blue, one day, he collapsed. Stage 4 lung cancer. He prayed, we all prayed. He lived. The doctors called it a miracle. That was twelve years ago now. He continued to pastor churches and mentor pastors for all that time.
The other was Geoff Findlay, the minister at Westminster Presbyterian church just down the road from here. His wife was in a prayer group with me for wives of ministers. Like Dave, one day, out of the blue, he received the diagnosis – lung cancer. He prayed, his whole church prayed. And he died.
Both were godly men. Both had been serving in churches. Both had much more they wanted to do in life, children getting married and having grand-children, more people they hoped to serve and bless. Both prayed, but God allowed one to die.
I can’t help but think of Geoff Findlay, the pastor who died, when we read of Jairus receiving the news that his daughter had died. Jesus heals. We know he does, Jairus knew he could. Jesus healed the woman only a minute ago. But in this case, he didn’t, and we don’t know why.
Not only did Jesus not heal Jairus’ daughter, it’s very clear that he could have done so, but he did not. He allowed her to die. But of course that’s not the end of the story.
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Let’s read on.
When Jesus heard this, he replied, “Do not be afraid. Only believe, and she will be saved.”51 When he came to the house, he did not allow anyone to enter with him, except Peter, John, and James and the child’s father and mother. 52 Everyone was weeping and grieving for her, but he said, “Do not cry, for she is not dead but sleeping.” 53 And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead.
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Dave McDonald went on to write a book about his cancer. It’s now been 12 years since his diagnosis, but he was writing only two years later, when it really wasn’t clear how things might turn out for him. He writes:
I didn’t ask for the cancer. I want it to go away and I long to be healthy again. But I can’t control these things. If I focus only on my circumstances, then my hopes and fears will rise and fall according to what I’m experiencing. Hope will depend on a good diagnosis, a new treatment, increased wealth, returning to work, a new relationship or some other improvement in my circumstances. When these things fail, so will my hope. Any hope based on these things will be pathetically weak and unreliable. God reminds me that hope doesn’t come from me being in control of my circumstances. Rather, real hope comes through trusting that he is near, that he will not forget me, and that he will work out all things for good… This hope rests in the character and promises of God himself. God is there and God can be trusted.
When you are sick, or your loved one is sick, you might feel like you are there at Jairus’ house, a house of mourning. But Jesus is there with you and, just like he said to Jairus he’s saying to you, ‘Do not be afraid, only believe.’ Trust me.
But when we find ourselves in circumstances like Jairus and his daughter, how can we trust him?
Now in my day job during the week I work as an historian. And I’m a big fan of the BBC comedy series Blackadder.
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For those who might not know it, Rowan Atkinson plays a cynical, dry witted character, Blackadder along with his bumbling wise-fool Baldrick through different ages of history. The fourth series is set during the first world war and Blackadder and Baldrick are fighting on the Western Front about to go over the top and face the machine guns.
The general tells Baldrick ‘If you should falter, remember that Captain darling and I are behind you’
To which Blackadder comments ‘about 35 miles behind you.’
You see while the soldiers were in the trenches, their leadership was secure and far away.
Is God like that? Asking us to trust him and put on a brave face while he remains comfortably 35 miles behind us? Or up in heaven?
Or to put it another way, Jesus asking Jairus to trust him would be a bad joke if he wasn’t going to raise Jairus’ daughter.
And Jesus asking us to trust him when we or our loved ones become sick would also be a cruel joke if Jesus hadn’t already been before us.
But friends, the good news is that,
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In sickness, Jesus leads us where he has already been
Jesus is not saying ‘trust me, I’ll be right behind you’. He has gone first. He is the one who has tasted death and come out the other side. When it’s all said and done, ultimately, this is the only hope we have – to follow the one who has already gone before us.
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So let’s read on.
But taking her by the hand, he called out, “Child, get up!” 55 Her spirit returned, and she stood up at once, and he directed them to give her something to eat. 56 Her parents were astounded, but he ordered them to tell no one what had happened.
Just as Jesus raised Jairus’ daughter back to life, he will also raise us. We know this, because he went through death before us. Those of us who die in Christ do not really die, like Jairus’ daughter, we only sleep, waiting for when Jesus calls us ‘get up’.
I find this story a great comfort because, although he didn’t raise Jairus’ daughter exactly when Jairus might have wanted, just as we are not always healed when or how we might hope. Some of us will sleep a while, as Jesus puts it. But he asks us to trust him nonetheless. And in that trust, there is an opportunity to know him and witness him do amazing things.
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Dave McDonald writes about how sickness changed him, bringing a new clarity about what really matters in life:
Having a terminal illness increases the urgency, but having a strong hope in God sharpens the focus of life. It’s not about packing every possible experience that I can manage into my life. Rather it’s about focusing on how and where I can make a difference that will count for eternity. I long for people to experience the hope that I have. The fact that people are left in despair when there is real hope to be found in Jesus saddens me greatly. Now is the time to make the most of opportunities to share my hope with others.
My prayer is that whether you are well or sick, you will find the hope that Dave has.
I can’t tell you why God allows people to get sick. I know that Jesus does heal. But I can’t tell you why Jesus doesn’t always hurry to heal when we might want. Why did he take his time to heal Jaius’ daughter? Why did he allow her to die? But I can tell you that in our sickness we are invited to wait in hope and to grow. Sickness is not a good thing, it is never a good thing. But God is at work in sickness – in our sickness Jesus invites us to know him in a way we never thought possible, to trust him more profoundly, and to follow him where he has already been.
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This is my dad here at Christ church Hawker for Phoebe’s baptism in 2020. You can see his face is all puffy from the steroids, but he was so glad to make it here.
I was with my dad the first time he was able to attend church again after his brain surgery. At the time, he couldn’t speak at all. But when the music played, to the surprise of all of us, including him I think, he was able to sing.
‘Who the Son sets free is free indeed. I’m I child of God, yes I am.’
These were the first words to pass his lips in months. We were all in tears.
Little did we know, but actually the part of the brain that regulates speech is quite separate to the part of the brain that regulates singing and music. So while the tumour blocked his ability to speak, he could still sing.
Over the final months of my dad’s life, I could see he had a more profound trust and love of Jesus than he ever had before his illness. He worshipped Jesus in song like never before, and I am convinced that he came to know Jesus in a deeper way than could have been possible without the brain cancer.
That’s not to say that the cancer was ever a good thing, and of course I look forward to when God raises my dad again from death to the new creation where there is no more cancer. But it is to say that in his sickness, he found that Jesus was there with him.
And that is my prayer for all of us when, inevitably, we become sick. Because in healing and in sickness we receive the same invitation. – to know Christ, to trust Christ, to follow Christ and so to become like Christ.