Our Funerals Proclaim Christ Not Doing What We Suppose Him to Do

Trinity 24

November 18, 2012

Death: Asleep in Jesus

Our Funerals Proclaim Christ Not Doing 

What We Suppose Him to Do

Matthew 9:24

ἔλεγεν· Ἀναχωρεῖτε, οὐ γὰρ ἀπέθανεν τὸ κοράσιον ἀλλὰ καθεύδει· καὶ κατεγέλων αὐτοῦ.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Twelve year old girls aren't supposed to die. They are supposed outlive their fathers. But sometimes what's supposed to happen, doesn't. Today we see the unthinkable happen—a little girl dies. But then we see the unthinkable happen again—Jesus brings that little girl back to life.

Mark and Luke tell us that Jairus' daughter was very sick and on the verge of death. But Matthew gets right to the point in his narrative. He doesn't even tell us the father's name; he just tells us that the little girl had died.

Jesus had compassion on this man and his family and He went to that home of heart-breaking sorrow. He did this at great personal expense. When He declared that the little girl was not dead, but asleep, the crowd laughed at Him. Some may even have thought Him cruel to toy with the emotions of the grieving parents by giving them false hope. They knew she was dead. And she was.

But they failed to see Jesus for who He truly is—the divine Author of Life who could heal with a touch up close or with a word miles away. The Creator could have saved Himself much mockery by simply ignoring the father or by healing the girl right then and there. He had just done this for the sake of the centurion's servant in the previous chapter.

Matthew 8:13

Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! It will be done just as you believed it would.” And [the centurion's] servant was healed at that very hour.

But for His own reasons Jesus went in person to the death bed of this poor girl. He ignored the hoots and jeers of the crowd, even though He could have easily stunned them into silence. He could have ordered the poor girl's body brought out into the street so that the crowd could have seen the miracle. Then Jesus would have had the final word. He could have had His moment to bask in laughing last and thus loudest. But He chose another way.

He went into the sad house and according to Mark and Luke only the mother and father and three disciples were allowed to witness this private moment of resurrection.

Mark 5:41-43

He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means, “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). Immediately the girl stood up and walked around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished. He gave strict orders not to let anyone know about this, and told them to give her something to eat.

Jesus only allowed six people to be astonished: the five witnesses and the little girl. The crowd was not invited. They were no doubt still outside cackling away. We would have sent the girl out. We would have had the girl immediately get up on her daddy's shoulders, and go out into the crowd, so that every one of those scoffers could see how foolish they were.

But instead of doing it our way, Jesus told the parents that the little girl needed to eat. (Nobody eats a lot when sick.) Jesus' compassion in the big things—resurrection!—and the little things—food for a little girl—silences know-it-alls.

Know-it-alls say, “Death is not sleep. It's absolute. It's the end.” Know-it-alls mock Christians who trust in Christ's promise, “She's asleep. This separation won't last forever.” Both promises wage war in our hearts and minds.

Know-it-alls win when funerals are reduced to simply a tour of the life that has ended. You see this at funeral homes and churches where family, friends, and even pastors spend most or all of the service praising the dead person, listing their good deeds, reciting a litany of their charity, ticking off a list of organizations that defined their goodness. They're many times and places to do these things, but it's not at a Christian funeral.

If a eulogy—a narrative of the dead person's good life—takes center stage at a funeral, then it is an unspoken admission either that death is permanent, so enjoy the memories, because that's all there is, or that life after death depends on the life that has just ended. These supposed celebrations of life are actually submissions to a culture of death.

But Jesus doesn't do it the way we suppose. Life after death depends on Him and the life and death He lived and died. He raised Himself off of His death bed in that new tomb cut into the side of the hill.

Therefore our funerals proclaim Christ, the One who paid for our sin of knowing-it-all, pride, arrogance, of claiming to celebrate life when we're really embracing slow death.

Little girls aren't supposed to die. We aren't supposed to go to heaven. But our Jesus rescues us from what's supposed to happen. He sent Death away from us and onto Himself and now sends us Life. Let our lives and our funerals proclaim our Savior's death and resurrection until the end.

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