5th Sunday After Pentecost, June 28, 2015

Collect for the Day:

Almighty God, you have built your Church upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone: Grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their teaching, that we may be made a holy temple acceptable to you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. 

First Lesson: 2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27

After the death of Saul, when David had returned from defeating the Amalekites, David remained two days in Ziklag. David intoned this lamentation over Saul and his son Jonathan. (He ordered that The Song of the Bow be taught to the people of Judah; it is written in the Book of Jashar.) He said:

Your glory, O Israel, lies slain upon your high places! How the mighty have fallen!
Tell it not in Gath, proclaim it not in the streets of Ashkelon;
or the daughters of the Philistines will rejoice, the daughters of the uncircumcised will exult.
You mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you, nor bounteous fields!
For there the shield of the mighty was defiled, the shield of Saul, anointed with oil no more.
From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty,
the bow of Jonathan did not turn back, nor the sword of Saul return empty.
Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided;
they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions.
O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul,
who clothed you with crimson, in luxury, who put ornaments of gold on your apparel.
How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle! Jonathan lies slain upon your high places.
I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan; greatly beloved were you to me;
your love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.
How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!

Reflections: It astonishes me that, after the betrayal David experienced at the hands of King Saul, he did not return like for like. He never betrayed the king. The psalms attest that David never demonized his “enemy”; he did not sin against him in his heart. How often do we, when we are criticized or persecuted (or just plain annoyed), give our opponents their due?

Psalm 130 De profundis

Out of the depths have I called to you, O LORD; LORD, hear my voice; *
     let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
If you, LORD, were to note what is done amiss, * O Lord, who could stand?
For there is forgiveness with you; * therefore you shall be feared.
I wait for the LORD; my soul waits for him; * in his word is my hope.
My soul waits for the LORD, more than watchmen for the morning, * more than watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, wait for the LORD, * for with the LORD there is mercy;
With him there is plenteous redemption, * and he shall redeem Israel from all their sins.

Epistle: 2 Corinthians 8:7-15

As you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in our love for you—so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking.

I do not say this as a command, but I am testing the genuineness of your love against the earnestness of others. For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich. And in this matter I am giving my advice: it is appropriate for you who began last year not only to do something but even to desire to do something-- now finish doing it, so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it according to your means. For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has-- not according to what one does not have. I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance. As it is written,

 

         The one who had much did not have too much,
         and the one who had little did not have too little.

Reflections: Paul is writing to the Christian community at Corinth to encourage them to come through with their gifts of financial support for the Christians in Jerusalem. Apparently, it was a project they had undertaken the previous year, but had not completed.

It’s always a touchy thing, asking for money, and judging from his letter, it was no less so back then. But the core of Paul’s argument is profound: the donation as a demonstration and fulfillment of the Corinthians’ identity as brothers and sisters in Christ.

As the Letter of James states, “faith without action is dead”; compassionate action is a natural expression of faith. Acts of mercy flow from who we are—and further shape who we are becoming—in Christ. 

 

Gospel: Mark 5:21-43

When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, "My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live." He went with him.

And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, "If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well." Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, "Who touched my clothes?" And his disciples said to him, "You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, `Who touched me?'" He looked all around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease."

While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader's house to say, "Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?" But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, "Do not fear, only believe." He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. When he had entered, he said to them, "Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping." And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child's father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha cum," which means, "Little girl, get up!" And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

Reflections: This reading combines two quite different stories. The first is about a local leader who humbles himself before a mere itinerant teacher. Obviously his love for his daughter drives out thoughts about status. Jairus begs Jesus to come and heal his dying daughter. But soon Jesus’ progress is arrested when an old woman dares to touch his clothing to receive healing. Although unclean from bleeding, the woman is so driven by desperation that she dares violate the social rules that would keep her away.

          When Jesus stops suddenly and looks around, asking, “Who touched me?” the disciples think his question ludicrous. They were in the midst of a jostling crowd. Jairus knows the urgency of the moment; there is no time to lose. But Jesus has lost his focus. For Jairus this incident must have been nightmarish. It’s not fair. He asked first; he is important (she’s a nobody; what is more, she’s unclean). I can imagine Jairus raging inside, biting his tongue as he dances from foot to foot, jangling his keys (or whatever people jangled back in those days).

          And then the nightmare becomes real. A messenger tells him that his daughter has died. It’s too late; the delay cost has him the person he loves most in the world. If only Jesus had stayed on task and come straight away; if only Jairus himself had reminded him, insisted, urged him on. If only . . .  

          “If only” locks us into a tiny, imaginary world with very close and windowless walls. It’s a world with only us inside, that pivots on our failings. “If only” . . . is hell. And it’s a hell that we create from moment to moment.

We’re locked in; the door won’t open. There’s no way out. Maybe we push on it and slam our fists against it, but it doesn’t budge, only confirming what we already know: we don’t deserve to get out, anyway. We slump against it in resignation and despair.

         What if the door opens inward? And who is knocking to come in?