Kids
Then a man named Jairus, a leader of the
local synagogue, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with him to come home
with him. His
only daughter, who was about twelve years old, was dying…. While he was still
speaking to her (a woman with an issue of blood), a messenger arrived from the
home of Jairus, the leader of the synagogue. He told him, “Your daughter is
dead. There’s no use troubling the Teacher now.” But when Jesus heard what had
happened, he said to Jairus, “Don’t be afraid. Just have
faith, and she will be healed.” (Luke 8:41-42; 49-50)
No one told me
that newborns make nighttime noises – all night long. They gurgle; they pant.
They whimper; they whine. They smack their lips and sigh. They keep Dads awake.
At least mine did. I wanted my wife to sleep, so we took turns – I was the
first responder during the graveyard shift. But I didn't know what to make of
the baby noises. When breathing slowed, I leaned my ear to see if he was alive.
When her breathing hurried, I looked up "infant hyperventilation" in
the family medical encyclopedia. When he burbled and panted, so did I. After a
couple of hours I realized, “I have no clue how to behave.” And that’s when it
hit me like a tsunami of sobriety: "I’m in charge of a human being."
I don't care how
tough you are. You may be a Navy SEAL who specializes in high-altitude
skydiving behind enemy lines. You might spend each day making million-dollar,
split-second stock market decisions. It doesn't matter. Every parent melts the
moment he or she feels the full force of parenthood. I did. “How did I get
myself into this?” I retraced my steps. First came love, then came marriage,
then the discussions of a baby
carriage. Of course I was open to the idea. Especially when I considered my
role in launching the effort. But somehow during the nine-month expansion
project, the reality of fatherhood never really dawned on me. Moms, on the
other hand, have a bit of an advantage: thirty-six weeks of reminders elbowing
around inside them. A Dad’s kick in the gut comes later.
The semi-truck
of parenting comes loaded with fears. We fear failing the child, forgetting the
child. Will we have enough money? Enough answers? Enough diapers? Enough drawer
space? Vaccinations. Educations. Homework. Homecoming. And even though we learn
to cope, an apiary of dangers buzzes in the background. Like the custody battle
raging around a mother’s ten-year-old son. The courts, the father, the mother,
the lawyers – they’re stretching the boy like taffy. She wonders if her child
will survive the ordeal. So do the parents of the teenage daughter who
collapsed on a volleyball court. No one knew about her heart condition, or
knows how she'll fare in the future. But at least they know where she is. Another
mother doesn’t. Her daughter, a high school senior, ran away with a boyfriend.
He's into drugs. She's into him. Both are into trouble. The mother begs for
help because no parent can sit still while his or her child suffers. Jairus
couldn't, either.
“On the other
side of the lake the crowds welcomed Jesus, because they had been waiting for
him. Then a man named Jairus, a leader of the local synagogue, came and fell at
Jesus' feet, pleading with him to come home with him. His only daughter, who
was about twelve years old, was dying. As Jesus went with him, he was
surrounded by the crowds.” (Luke 8:40-42)
Jairus was a
Capernaum community leader, "one of the rulers of the synagogue."
(Mark 5:22) Mayor, bishop, and ombudsman, all in one. The kind of man a city
would send to welcome a celebrity. But when Jairus approached Jesus on the
Galilean shoreline, he wasn't representing his village; he was pleading on
behalf of his child. Urgency stripped the formalities from his greeting. He
issued no salutation or compliment, just a panicked prayer.
Jairus isn't the
only parent to run onto the gospel pages on behalf of a child. A mother stormed
out of the Canaanite hills, crying, "Mercy, Master, Son of David! My
daughter is cruelly afflicted by an evil spirit." (Matt. 15:22) A father
of a seizure-tormented boy sought help from the disciples, then Jesus. He cried
out with tears, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24) The
Canaanite mother. The epileptic boy’s father. Jairus. Three parents who form an
unwitting New Testament society: struggling parents of stricken children. But in
each case Jesus responded. He never turned one away. And his consistent
kindness issues a welcome announcement: Jesus heeds the concern of a parent's
heart.
After all, our
kids were his kids first. "Don't you see that children are God's best
gift? The fruit of the womb his generous legacy?" (Ps. 127:3) Before they
were ours, they were his. Even as they are ours, they’re still his. We tend to
forget this fact, regarding our children as "our" children, as though
we have the final say in their health and welfare. We don't. All people are
God's people, including the little people who sit at our tables.
Jairus was
hoping for a miracle. He begged Jesus to come to his home. (Luke 8:41) The
father wasn't content with long-distance assistance; he wanted Christ under his
roof, walking through his hallways and standing at the bedside of his daughter.
He wanted the presence of Christ to permeate his house. He was a stubborn
intercessor, taking his parenting fears to Christ. Yet Jesus says so little
about parenting; he makes no comments about spanking, breast-feeding, sibling
rivalry, or schooling. Yet his actions speak volumes about prayer. Each time a
parent prays, Christ responds. His big message to moms and dads? Bring your
children to me. The truth is that we can't protect our children from every threat
in life, but we can take them to the Source of life.
Even then,
however, our appeals may be followed by a difficult choice. As Jairus and Jesus
were going to Jairus' home, "a messenger arrived from the home of Jairus,
the leader of the synagogue. He told him, 'Your daughter is dead. There's no
use troubling the Teacher now.' But when Jesus heard what had happened, he said
to Jairus, 'Don't be afraid. Just have faith, and she will be healed.'"
(Luke 8:49-50) Jairus was whipsawed between the contrasting messages. The
first, from the servants: "Your daughter is dead." The second, from
Jesus: "Don't be afraid." Horror called from one side. Hope compelled
from the other. Tragedy, then trust. Jairus heard two voices and had to choose
which one he would heed. Don't we all?
The hard reality
of parenting reads something like this: you can do your best and still stand
where Jairus stood. You can protect, pray, and keep all the bogeymen at bay and
still find yourself in an ER at midnight, or a drug rehab clinic on visitors'
Sunday, choosing between two voices: despair or belief. Jairus could have
chosen despair. Who would have faulted him for deciding "Enough is
enough"? He had no guarantee that Jesus could help. His daughter was dead.
Jairus could have walked away.
As parents,
we're so glad he didn't. Because we need to know what Jesus will do when we
entrust our kids to him. "When Jesus went to the house, he let only Peter,
John, James, and the girl's father and mother go inside with him." (Luke
8:51) Jesus included the mother. He united the household. Until this point the
mother had been, for whatever reason, out of the picture. Maybe she was at her
daughter's bedside. Or maybe she was at odds with her husband. Crisis can
divide a family. The stress of caring for a sick or troubled child can drive a
wedge between parents. But Christ united them. He wanted Mom and Dad to stand
together in the struggle. So, Jesus gathered the entire, albeit small,
household in the presence of the daughter. And there he banished unbelief. “He
said, 'Do not weep; she is not dead, but sleeping.' And they ridiculed Him,
knowing that she was dead. But He put them all outside." (vv. 52-54) He
commanded doubt to depart and permitted only faith and hope to remain.
God has a heart
for hurting parents. Should that surprise us? After all, God himself is a
father. What parental emotion hasn’t he felt? Are you separated from your
child? So was God. Is someone mistreating your child? They mocked and bullied
his. Is someone taking advantage of your children? The Son of God was set up by
false testimony and betrayed by a greedy follower. Are you forced to watch
while your child suffers? God watched his son on the cross. Do you find
yourself wanting to spare your child from all the hurt in the world? God did.
But because of his great love for us, "he did not spare his own Son but
gave him for us all. So with Jesus, God will surely give us all things."
(Rom. 8:32)
"All things."
I think that includes courage and hope. But some of you may find the story of
Jairus difficult to hear. You prayed the same prayer he did, yet you found
yourself in a cemetery facing every parent's darkest night. What hope does the
story of Jairus offer you? Jesus resurrected Jairus' child. Why didn't he save
yours? God understands. He buried a child too. He hates death more than you do.
That's why he killed it. He "abolished death and brought life and
immortality to light." (2 Tim. 1:10) For those who trust God, death is
nothing more than a transition to heaven. Your child may not be in your arms,
but your child is safely in his.
Others of you
have been standing for a long time where Jairus stood. You've long since left
the water's edge of offered prayer, but haven't yet arrived at the household of
answered prayer. You've wept a monsoon of tears for your child. At times you've
felt that a breakthrough was near, that Christ was following you to your house.
But you're not so sure anymore. You find yourself alone on the path, wondering
if Christ has forgotten you and your child. He hasn't. He never dismisses a
parent's prayer.
Keep giving your
child to God, and in the right time and the right way, God will give your child
back to you.
Happy Mother’s Day,
Randy
No comments:
Post a Comment