Sermons

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Bring What You Have
September 12, 1999
Pastor Dan Baumgartner
Matthew 9:18-26

Preaching continues to be a dangerous occupation for me. This morning’s message has a lot to do with interruptions. And I was in the office early this morning, scrambling to get a couple of things done, and about 8:30 somebody knocked on the front door of the office. I ignored it. They knocked again, and I resentfully went to answer.

It turned out to be a man I had met in our community. He wanted nothing, needed nothing. In fact, he was there only because he wanted to put some money in the offering. He said, “This church has really touched me through the Wednesday night dinners, and somebody must be doing something right. God has blessed me.” That’s all.

Interruptions.

Last week we looked at a story where Jesus called the tax collector Matthew to follow him. Jesus went to dinner at Matthew’s house, where he argued with some people who just couldn’t seem to see the need in their own lives. Today’s story looks at sort of the flip side…people who do understand their own need. And it takes place still in Matthew’s house, where Jesus continues to talk.

Matthew 9:18-23

There are interruptions in life…and then there are interruptions. The first are just little annoyances that happen all the time. You wake up, it’s Saturday morning, you finally have a chance to get the paint on that ceiling. You finish your coffee, get out all the supplies, get yourself up on the ladder, get the first strip on the ceiling…and there’s a knock at the front door. You open it to find someone with a clipboard, wanting you to sign on to one cause or another. You do, or you don’t, you shut the door…and you return to your ladder, go back to what you were doing, and life goes on, just as it was.

Then there are other interruptions. The kind that quite literally freeze life for a moment, that change life forever. Our family experienced that this week. In the midst of a busy week, we got a phone call on Thursday… telling us that Anne’s aunt died suddenly on Mercer Island. One phone call, a 5-minute interruption…and life has changed. It will never be quite the same as it was.

This story…or these stories, actually…from Matthew, are all about interruptions.

Interruptions in real people’s lives…and interruptions in Jesus’ life. Jesus sits in Matthew’s house, in deep discussion with a number of people. Important discussion. Suddenly, a man BURSTS into the room, and falls at Jesus’ feet. The gospel writer tells us only that the man is “a ruler.”

Matthew is actually quite stingy with the details here…the gospels of Luke and Mark also tell this story, and have a great many more details. For instance, they tell us that this “ruler” is actually a man named Jairus, the ruler of the local synagogue. This ruler was a lay person responsible for all that went on at the synagogue…administration, guest teachers, worship, scrolls, everything. Ordinarily, this would be a person quite traditional and orthodox, well-versed in the Jewish faith, deeply invested in the traditions…exactly the kind of person, of course, who had a hard time with this itinerant teacher named Jesus. So this interruption of Jesus’ conversation is not only abrupt, it is shocking. The ruler of the synagogue throwing himself at Jesus’ feet and asking for help.

“My daughter has just died. But come, and put your hand on her, and she will live.”

We know nothing about this ruler Jairus. Apparently he knew of Jesus, he apparently knew about some of the miracles being done. Some read this and think, “Here is a person of great faith.” I read it and think here is a faith of desperation. Did he really believe that his daughter, his little girl (whom Luke tells us was just twelve years old)…could be brought back to life? His heart was broken.

I have a daughter. Perhaps you have had a twelve-year-old. Jairus brings his huge need, his desperate faith…and comes to Jesus.

When life is interrupted by the unexpected, it teaches us a lot about our faith, I think. These are the situations where we learn the most, and where we grow the strongest. They are also the situations where we may find our faith to be the equivalent of a spiritual wimp! And they are the situations where I believe that God does not ask us to be spiritual supermen and women…only to bring our needs, and the faith we have to Jesus…and let Him work. Perhaps, as one author says, “faith IS bringing our needs to Christ…expectantly.”

A couple of years ago, I was at an evening meeting in Minneapolis. It was a cold night (shocking), and at the end of the meeting I had to walk two or three blocks to my car. It was a “tough” neighborhood, and looked even tougher at night than it did in the daylight. I had to walk through a dilapidated little business district to get to my car. A number of men were milling around the storefronts. As I approached the intersection, there was a large man sprawled out on the sidewalk in front of me. A million thoughts raced through my mind:

• Is this a setup?
• A ploy to rob some silly pastor of his wallet?
• Or was it real trouble?
• Why was everybody just stepping around the body?
• What could I really do, anyway? I was no medical expert.
• Should I just cross the street?

But wasn’t that what people did in Jesus’ story of the good Samaritan? You may have guessed what I did. I walked on to my car. What faith! Then I drove around the block, agonizing over what to do. Once. Twice. Three times. Then, humiliated by my own lack of faith, I parked. I said, Lord, you know I have very little faith and no courage…but I’m asking you to come with me. And went I back to the man. He was unconscious, but breathing…and help had already been called. I had more needs at that moment, I think, than that man on the sidewalk. And very little strength of faith. But I believe that Jesus would have said to me, “Just bring what you have. We’ll start there. I can work with that.”

Meanwhile, our synagogue ruler takes some hope, for when he comes to Jesus…Jesus immediately gets up and follows him. But that hope is put on hold by…an interruption.

Jesus is literally walking down the street, on a mission of mercy…and he must stop. There is a woman who for TWELVE years has had unstoppable menstrual bleeding. Again, Luke gives us more details, and tells us that she has spent all of her money on doctors, but to no avail. For twelve long years, she has searched for a solution to this chronic condition which wore her down not only physically, but also socially and spiritually.

In a society governed by a great many laws of what was clean and unclean, she is decidedly unclean. Everything and everyone she touches would also be judged unclean, and so hers is a lonely existence. She doesn’t even dare risk approaching Jesus from the front for this very reason, choosing instead to sneak up from behind him. “Maybe, just maybe, if I secretly touch his robe…I will be healed”…or “saved.” The same word has two meanings.

Some read this and think, “what a bold and confident faith.” I read it and think, “here is another faith of desperation, of last resorts.” What does she have to lose? And so, again…she brings her need…and whatever faith she has…to Jesus. And he gently says, “Daughter, your faith has made you well…made you whole.”

And finally, as this scene ends, Jesus is interrupted yet again, yanked back to the first need, the synagogue ruler, who must have been going crazy with anxiety as Jesus dealt with the woman. Finally they arrive at his house, to find the traditional Jewish mourning process at the scene of a death. Shrill flute players, and paid wailers create an environment of emotion and clamor. And Jesus says, “Go away. She is not dead…just asleep.” And the crowd laughs…no they mock. There is only unbelief. And Jesus kicks them out (literally, throws them out), and he goes inside, and touches the girl, and emerges with her alive next to him.

I’m struck by the fact that both of these people in the story are not people who seem to be unabashed believers in miracles. Neither seems to have the background that we think we would find in someone close to God. Yet we are told…these are both stories of faith. And if they are, they will cause us to look more deeply at what faith is.

We fall easily into the trap that what God calls us to is a sort of superhuman faith.

We think our faith ought to be so rock solid, so self-assured, so confident, so courageous that God could not possibly resist doing whatever it is that we’ve asked for. If we could just pray harder, or think more positively…God will be so impressed, nothing but good things will happen.

But the point from these two stories seems different. The very simple thing that keeps popping out…is that both the woman bleeding for 12 years, and the father of the 12-year-old who had died…headed to be with Jesus. Went to be in Christ’s presence. Took their very huge, real needs…and their desperate tattered faith, and brought them to Jesus.

The needs we have may look different…but are just as real. We are confused about where our lives are heading. We find ourselves in positions we never dreamed we would, and never wanted to be in. We have been betrayed by friends or spouses, we have families who won’t speak to each other, we have lost ones dear to us, we’re out of jobs, we’re confused about our identity, we’ve done something terribly wrong. And we think that we have to gird ourselves up, suck up our spirituality, believe something that deep down inside we doubt if it will happen, bring our strength to Jesus.

Yet the truth is that Jesus just says to us, “Come on. Right now. Bring me your needs. Bring me whatever faith you have, come to me. Be in my presence.” We get to do that whether we’ve been living for twelve years…or dying for twelve years. And even as we tentatively, hesitatingly bring to Jesus our faith as it is now…He will grow it. We will see, like these stories…that Jesus’ touch is personal. That he cares about our needs. That he cares about us. And as we experience that in the presence of Jesus. We begin to trust him for these things. And we find out more. And ultimately, we are bowled over by what these stories show us. That Jesus has power ultimately even over death. The worst thing in human life…is not too strong for this Person we bring our faith to.

And so we bring our faith, as it is…to Christ. We bring our needs. We bring the people around us…into the presence of Christ. It is such a relief to know that we are not in charge of the salvation, the healing, the fixing…not our own, and not other peoples’. Instead, we can just help nudge them into the presence of Jesus. How?

Donald McCullough, the president of San Francisco Seminary talks about nudging people into Christ’s presence through the Bible. He says he often has people who want to debate Christianity by arguing about creation, or the virgin birth. He acknowledges that these are interesting issues, but says, “before we can proceed we really need to make sure we know what we’re talking about. Have you ever actually read the Bible?” If the answer is no, or something vague, McCullough responds, “Well then, why don’t we read the gospel of Matthew together? Let’s both try to be open. I will be open to its problems, and you be open to whatever truth it’s trying to tell you.” If the person agrees, McCullough knows they are on their way to a real adventure…because through the scriptures, they come into the presence of Jesus.

We nudge people towards Christ by praying…for people, but also with people. Joanne was a neighbor of ours who wasn’t sure what she believed in. But over a couple years, we built a relationship with her, and she had been at our house many times and prayed with us…at Thanksgiving, over dinners, and other times. And when a serious crisis hit her life, there she was, knocking on our door, asking US if we could pray. And when an even harder time came, she knocked again…and reported that she had just finished praying “the way you had prayed for me.” Through prayer, people are nudged into Christ’s presence.

I’m wondering how your week this week will be interrupted? I know it will be. I’m wondering what it will teach you about faith. And I wonder if, whatever comes up, you’ll be willing to take whatever faith you have… whatever need you have…and go into the presence of Jesus. When you do, you’ll join a woman no longer dying, a girl rejoicing with life, a father no longer grieving…and a God who not only welcomes interruptions … but works through them.