Thankful Memorial, Chattanooga
June 27, 2021
Year B, 5 Pentecost, Proper 8

2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27
Psalm 130
2 Corinthians 8:7-15
Mark 5:21-43

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

The texts from Scripture that we read this Sunday are interesting and rich, but seem completely unrelated to one another. 

The lesson from second Samuel offers David’s moving lamentation as he expresses his grief over the deaths of Saul and David’s beloved friend Jonathan. 

In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul appeals to the Corinthian church to make good on the money they promised to give to the Jewish Christ-followers in Jerusalem who are in need. 

And in the portion of Mark’s gospel, we hear of two women miraculously healed by Jesus’ divine power – one passively through her father’s request and one actively taking matters (and Jesus’ clothes) into her own hands with bold faith. 

Perhaps our way into these texts, as is often the case, is by means of the Collect we prayed together a few moments ago.  In and through our prayer, we are reminded that the foundation of the Church is in the “apostles and prophets” sent from God, “Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone.”  And the purpose of God’s messengers is to teach us how “to be joined together in unity of spirit[…] that we may be made a holy temple acceptable to [God].”

All of Scripture, including the texts we read this morning, is part of that message.  In that vein, then, what can these readings teach us about how we join together “in unity of spirit” as God’s Church in the world?

Let’s start with that grief-stricken lament from David.  David is so consumed by his sorrow that he calls on his community and even creation to mourn with him: “You mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you, nor bounteous fields! […] O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul!” he exclaims.  As king, David is in a unique position to gather the people to share in his lamentations.  But you don’t have to be a monarch to invite others into the depths of one’s emotions.  Hopefully, we do this all the time for each other.  One of the ways we form community together is by showing up for one another in our sorrows and our joys.  We’ve seen this happen in our own Thankful family over the past months as we’ve continually prayed for the sick and thanked God for the many new births among us.  We join together “in unity of spirit” as God’s Church when we share empathetically in each other’s experiences. 

In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul exhorts them to follow through on the commitments they have made to others in the body of Christ.  Now, Paul isn’t talking about vague promises here – there are real, material ways that Christians are called to engage one another.  For the Christians in the big smoke of Corinth, it’s a financial donation to the much poorer community in Judea.  And indeed, there are times still today when we are called to give financially to the work of the Church. 

But there are additional practical ways for us to copy the “generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ” in our own lives.  Perhaps we can give time and energy to a good cause or for another individual’s well-being.  Maybe we will follow through on commitments we’ve made in the past to work toward social justice and equity.  Or it could be that we find the courage to step into a leadership role in your community or step back from a position of power to leave room for new growth.  Whatever it is, however we manage it, we come together “in unity of spirit” as Christians through such “generous undertaking[s],” when we work to create “a fair balance between [our] present abundance” and the needs of others. 

So from second Samuel, we learn the importance of shared empathy with one another for joining together in community.  From second Corinthians, we are taught the necessity of shared generosity.  What might the gospel of Mark tell us about how to come together “in unity of spirit”?

Despite some similarities, the two stories of healing in this section of Mark are quite different from one another.  On the one hand, there is a woman with no social standing.  Bleeding continually for 12 years, she would have been deemed ritually unclean by Jewish law, which would have made anyone who came in contact with her unclean as well.  So, this woman would have lived the past decade-plus of her life as an outcast with little to no human intimacy.  She takes great risks and breaks multiple social, religious and cultural boundaries when she forces her way through the crowd and boldly grabs hold of Jesus’ clothing, trusting in his power to save her.  And she’s right; it does.  Jesus calls her “daughter” and affirms that her faith has made her well. 

The unnamed woman stands in contrast to Jairus who seeks Jesus out for the sake of his daughter.  If the woman was powerless and outcast in her community, Jairus is her diametric opposite.  “One of the leaders of the synagogue,” Jairus is a respected and powerful member of society.  But he, his family and his retinue have something to learn from the hemorrhaging woman.  When they fail to trust that his divine power is greater than even death itself, Jesus admonishes them, “Do not fear, only believe.”  The religious “insiders” must be told what the unnamed outsider knew instinctively: that in Jesus is the source of all life. 

And here, finally, is the last element that these texts teach us about our life lived “in unity of spirit”: our faith in Christ.  The hemorrhaging woman knows it all along; Jairus and his retinue must learn it.  But, in the end, they – and us – come to understand the power of God to heal us and make us whole.  And that connects us, one to another, with no boundaries between insiders or outsiders, rich or poor, sorrowful or joyful.  Whoever we are, wherever we find ourselves along the way of Jesus, this is how we are “joined together in unity of spirit”: by our shared empathy, our shared generosity and our shared faith in Christ.  Amen.