Showing posts with label Faith; Humility; Jairus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith; Humility; Jairus. Show all posts

Saturday, November 7, 2026

Homily for the Seventh Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

 


Hebrews 2:2-10; Luke 8:41-56

           

            An unprecedented number of people are being drawn to the Orthodox Church in our society today.  This development is a great blessing of God for which none of us may take credit.  No matter whether we have grown up in the Church, entered later in our lives, or are now in the initial stages of encountering Orthodoxy, we all need to consider what we are seeking and why we are doing so.  In our individualistic and consumeristic culture, it is tempting to make even our commitment to Christ and His Church a way of getting what we want on our own terms.   If we are embracing the Orthodox Christian Faith with integrity, we will learn that the real test of whether we are finding the healing of our souls is not whether everything is going according to our plans.  It is, instead, whether we will respond faithfully when deep challenges break our hearts and disappointments tempt us to despair. 

 

            In today’s gospel reading, Jairus and his wife were put to the ultimate test when the Lord said of their daughter, “Do not fear; only believe, and she shall be well…[and] “Do not weep; for she is not dead but sleeping.”  Jairus was an upstanding Jewish man who was responsible for the good order of a synagogue.  He was surely respected by his neighbors and thought to be righteous, but we have no idea what Jairus had thought about Christ other than that he knelt before Him and asked Him to come to his house, where his daughter was dying.  After she had died, whatever faith he had was surely stretched to the breaking point.   

 

            Jairus and his wife had at least enough faith to go into their house with the Messiah Who had promised to save their daughter if they believed and did not fear.  Mourning and weeping had already begun, and others laughed at the Savior for saying, “Do not weep; for she is not dead but sleeping.”   In the midst of their terrible grief, Jairus and his wife somehow found the strength to trust in Christ’s promise, which enabled them to receive a miracle well beyond all expectations when their twelve-year-old daughter returned to life.

 

            Something similar occurred with the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years.  She had impoverished herself by spending all her money on physicians who could not heal her. There was no medical cure for her condition, which also made her ritually unclean.  She was isolated, poor, and miserable.  Her religious and social standing were completely different from that of Jairus, who was at the center of the Jewish community; she was very much on the margins.  All that we know about her attitude toward Christ is that she reached out and touched the hem of His garment in the midst of a large crowd.  She did not want to draw attention to herself by asking for healing and or to risk rejection from Him, for anyone who touched her would have been considered unclean also.     

 

            When the woman reached out for the Lord’s garment, she was healed immediately, but Christ knew that someone had touched Him; her secret was out.  Instead of running away in fear or becoming defensive or angry, the woman then “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.”  That was surely not what she wanted to do, and it took great courage.  Then the Lord said, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”      

 

            As different as Jairus and this woman are, they have in common that they were both tempted to fall into despair.  The number twelve being used with reference both to Jairus’ daughter and to the woman reminds us of the twelve tribes of Israel and that they were both Jews.  It did not matter that one was part of an upstanding religious family and that the other was an outcast.  Questions of how observant they were of the Jewish law or of what people thought about them had become irrelevant, for they could see no way out of the tragic circumstances they faced.  To their credit, they were not paralyzed by fear and grief.  Instead, they humbly offered the deepest pains of their lives as best they could to Christ for healing beyond what they could expect or even understand.  They entrusted their brokenness to the Lord without reservation and, thus, opened themselves to the healing of the human person that He has brought to the world. 

 

The woman did not say anything at all until after her healing, which came through the only gesture of faith that she had the strength to make:  reaching out to touch the hem of the Savior’s garment in the middle of a crowd.  She was healed instantly, but spoke only after she had been found out.  She did so with fear and trembling, falling down before the Lord and stating publicly why she had reached out for healing.  That was likely the most difficult and embarrassing moment of her life.  In response, the Lord said, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”  The Savior did not relate to her as a bundle of impurity, but simply as a beloved child of God.   

 

The pain felt by Jairus and his wife was in no way lessened by their respectable position among the Jews.    Jairus had asked Christ to come to his house where his daughter was dying, but he and his wife surely struggled to believe that the Lord could actually raise her from the dead.  After He did so, “her parents were amazed; but He charged them to tell no one what had happened.” Their faith, however weak and imperfect, was all that the Savior needed to work an extraordinary miracle.   Christ was made unclean neither by the touch of the bleeding woman nor by His taking the hand of the girl as He raised her from death.  To the contrary, He shared His gracious restoration of the human person with them both.     

 

The Lord showed mercy throughout His earthly ministry to suffering people who offered their pains, sorrows, and afflictions to Him for healing, regardless of where they stood in the religious and social pecking orders of the day.  He praised the spiritual understanding of a Gentile woman and cast a demon out of her daughter. (Mk 7:24-30) He said that no one in Israel had greater faith than the Roman centurion whose servant He healed. (Lk 7: 1-10) He restored the broken life of St. Photini, the Samaritan woman, by disregarding the prejudices of the time through His shocking conversation with her.  (Jn 4:1-42) The Savior did not treat them according to their social standing, religious observance, or moral purity, but according to His great mercy.      

 

Only the God-Man, fully divine and fully human, could transform the terrible suffering of those who bleed, die, and mourn into joy.  As we read in today’s epistle lesson, “As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to Him.  But we see Jesus, Who for a little while was made lower than the angels, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God He might taste death for everyone.”  That is how He conquered Hades and the tomb, making even the worst tragedies of the human condition points of entrance to the blessedness of His heavenly kingdom.  

 

 

No matter what first drew our attention to the Church, we must all learn to see that we stand before Him just as did Jairus, his wife, his dying daughter, and the bleeding woman.  We have maladies of soul and body, as well as disordered relations with others, that we lack the power to heal.  The point of all our spiritual disciplines is not to get what we want from God or to achieve any earthly goal.  It is, instead, to help us gain the humility to have the faith necessary to entrust even our deepest pains and fears to the One Who conquered death itself to restore us in His image and likeness. To acquire that kind of faith, we must allow our self-centered agendas and vain delusions concerning religion and everything else to be destroyed as we learn to entrust ourselves, our loved ones, and our world to the Lord.  He graciously accepts faith even the size of a mustard seed, like that of an outcast woman who secretly touches the hem of His garment or of parents who can barely believe that death has not had the last word on their daughter.  If we can acquire the humility to offer ourselves to Christ as they did, then His words will apply to us also as members of the Church, His bride: “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”