Sermon on Mark 5:21-43 (Proper 8)

Take My Hand. We’ll Make It

I thought I would take this opportunity, having just returned from camp, to tell you about one of my favorite parts of camp and what it does for people of all ages. Bible study. Right?!? Because I’m a director of youth and family. Not quite. One of my hands-down favorite parts of camp are the group building activities that culminate in the High Ropes challenge course. There is a progression that the group goes through where they start with some games and activities on the ground to learn each other’s names and work on challenges together. Then they move to low ropes elements which challenge them even more to think outside of the box and rely on their team. The last challenge is the high ropes elements. And they are high. We’re talking “each element takes you 27 feet in the air, you’re strapped into a harness and attached to a rope” high. It’s great. Not because of the physical challenge of it all, but because of the mixture of faith, trust, the need for community, the elements leaving you vulnerable, and reminding you of your limits and having you push them. In many ways it is completely countercultural. I love all of it!

I actually have a scar because of High Ropes. When I was in high school going through their leadership training program for the summer, we went out to do the elements at Ebert Ranch Camp, where we just got back from confirmation camp. There is one element out there called the “Leap of Faith.” Really, I call it the “Leap of Good Balance.” The element consists of a single telephone pole that you climb up, balance on the top of, turn around and then jump out to try and catch a trapeze bar. The top of it is not much bigger than the size of a dinner plate.  Look at this body type and tell me we’re not about to have problems. Without going into too great detail, as a teen I leapt off the backside when trying to stand up, swung around and connected with one of the climbing staples with the side of my leg. There are now stories told around camp about me. Yeah, I’m that guy. The story isn’t over though. I came back 3 years later as a staff member and for part of our training we were going to do the high ropes elements. Guess which one was one of the selected elements? The Leap of Faith. I was being belayed by one of the executive directors at the time who was present when I had failed completely the first go round as a camper. I climbed my way up the pole and stopped dead right about the point I did the last time. That is one of the times I have felt the most vulnerable, the most unsure and coincidently the most supported in my life. You see, everyone else on the ground was rooting for me. They had heard the story and they wanted me to succeed. I slowly made my way up to a standing position, turned around and jumped out and caught the trapeze bar. As I was being lowered to the ground I completely broke down. It was such a rush of emotions to have overcome something that had kicked my butt before. Not only that, but to be able to embrace the folks that wanted the best for me in that moment especially the executive director who, at this point, was crying too. It was a good place to be and a memory I will never forget.

We have a two for one special in our gospel from Mark today. Two stories, one about the synagogue leader Jairus with one about the women with hemorrhages stuck right in the middle of it. Aren’t you glad you came to church today? It’s not every Sunday we get this. One of the themes that permeates these two stories is the same thing I like about the ropes progression: vulnerability. The first character we meet is Jairus. Imagine where he is coming from. He is a leader in the synagogue which means everything that comes with the job: honor, privilege, money, status. None of that matters now because his little girl is sick. He had probably tried many different doctors and tried different treatments, but it didn’t help so he comes to Jesus. The picture we are given is of a man who is terrified, broken and vulnerable. He doesn’t just have a conversation with Jesus like “Hi Jesus, if you’re not too busy can you come take a look at my daughter. I’ve heard you have done some miraculous things and I want to see what you might be able to do.” Jairus could have probably done this because he and Jesus were pretty close to equals during that time in the sense of status. He doesn’t do that, but rather throws himself at Jesus’ feet in the dirt, in the middle of this crowd and begs him over and over again to come and lay hands on his daughter. So Jesus goes with him.

Now enter in this unnamed woman who is the exact opposite. She has been suffering from hemorrhages for 12 years. She’s tried doctor after doctor and has spent all she had. By Jewish law standards she is unclean, unfit to be among normal society. She has no one to advocate for her. She doesn’t have power or status. She is vulnerable too. So vulnerable that she has to push through the crowd to get to Jesus. So vulnerable that she feels like she has to use a “sneak attack” tactic to even get close to him. Just to touch the hem of his robe. That’s all she wants.

What the vulnerability of these two people show us today is what we tend to forget about ourselves. We are just people too. When Jairus is coming to Jesus we no longer see his status or his power, but rather a man who loves his family and would do anything for them. When the woman comes to Jesus we don’t see her condition or her status, but rather we see a woman who is in pain and desperately looking for healing. All too often we ascribe to this belief that we are somehow better because of what we have or what we have done. We build up these constructed models of who we are or who we think we should be. We work to try and fit other’s standards.  I’m guilty of it too. Folks, we are all just people too with our own stories and scars. The stories and the scars, not the stuff we own or construct with in us, are the things that make us who we are. The vulnerable moments when everything is stripped away and we are most like ourselves. The fact that we all have pain in our lives evens out the playing field. We’re not invincible. We’re not beyond needing help from others. We are Jairus and this unnamed woman.

You know who else defines us? God. Through the life and death of Jesus we are given a new name. Jesus even uses it in the gospel text this morning: Daughter, Son, Child of God. When we get to the point where we are the most vulnerable, that’s right when God is there to take us by the hand and say to us “Little Child, Get up!” Even death is not the end. When it seems like life is too much, when we feel like we need to add on to that model we’re building of ourselves, or when we feel like we have to be more than what we are God reminds us that is simply not true. We come to both font and table and are given a reminder that we are children of God. Broken and flawed yet loved and cherished. We belong to God and that is all that matters. We are free to be vulnerable. We are free to be who we were created to be, ourselves.

I think we are all beginning to understand this “being ourselves” thing a little bit better. There is a popular slogan that has been going around these days that started on Twitter. It’s YOLO which stands for “You Only Live Once.” Ask someone who’s younger than me and I bet they have heard of it. Now some people are a little tired of this slogan because a great many people have misused it to justify doing absolutely ridiculous things. That wasn’t its intended purpose. Really it is meant to serve as a reminder of the fact that we don’t live forever and should step out and try things. You know, make the most of what we got. I also think that it serves as a reminder that you are the only you that will live this one life. No one else is like you in any way. That doesn’t necessarily mean go it alone. We still have need for each other.

It’s like the words that the great hymn writer Bon Jovi sang in “Livin’ on a Prayer” I put some of the lyrics on the backpage as a reminder.  The song tells the story of Tommy and Gina and how they are vulnerable people. It tells all of our stories. We’re all halfway there (which I don’t even know what that means!).  We’re all just livin’ on a prayer. We gotta hold on to what we got and we have each other and that’s a lot for love. Oh yeah, we just had a Bon Jovi moment. By the grace and love of God we can dare to be vulnerable and encourage others to be the same. To remember and remind each other of who has claimed us. We can also reach out a hand to each other because we have a hand reaching out and taking a hold of us. We have each other, we have God, and God has us all. With the confidence in knowing that:  We’ll make it, I swear. Amen.