It’s Time To Get Up

One of my favorite miracles that Jesus performs is the raising of Jairus’ daughter.

Jairus, a synagogue leader, pleads with Jesus to come heal his sick child. On His way to Jairus’ home, Jesus is distracted by another need for healing. This interruption on His journey delays His arrival and consequently the child dies before He arrives. When they receive news of her death, friends of Jairus suggest that perhaps Jesus shouldn’t come anymore. But Jesus doesn’t take death as the last word.

We’ll pick up in Mark 5:

36 …Jesus told him, “Don’t be afraid; just believe” [...] 38 When they came to the home of the synagogue leader, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. 39 He went in and said to them, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” 40 But they laughed at him. After he put them all out, he took the child’s father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). 42 Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished.

- Mark 5:36-42

Jairus and his loved ones saw this little girl’s death as the end of their story. Jesus saw it as a beginning for something miraculous. What I love most about this story is how “unbothered” Jesus is. When they tell Him not to come, He just shrugs it off and tells them to believe. When He encounters the grieving family, He questions the commotion. When staring death in the face, He simply calls her “asleep.” And then, when He raises her from the dead, it isn’t some cinematic, jaw-dropping moment. The actual event is simple and sweet. With a couple of softly spoken words “Talitha Koum” or “Oh, little girl, get up,” our Lord took the young girl by the hand and lifted her up. Theologians, taking into account the tenderness of this event, suggest that these words could have been the very familiar words that the young girl woke up to every morning as her parents called her down to start her day.

There wasn’t fog, lights, and chaos as Jesus performed some climactic event. I picture Jesus like a father in the early morning, sitting beside His sleeping daughter, gently brushing the hair out of her face, and beckoning for her to wake up, “Sweet daughter, it’s time for a new day. Get up.”

The juxtaposition of the intense grief of the family and the cinematic moment they were probably hoping for, compared with the unbothered, gentle nature of Jesus, cannot be lost on us. Jesus wasn’t surprised by her death, He didn’t mess up by taking too long. In fact, one could infer that, perhaps, He took longer on His journey so that there would be no question who He was, or who should get credit for this miracle.

Oh dear friend, how often are we like Jairus and his loved ones, desperately afraid of the challenges in our life, demanding Jesus to show up NOW, to fix the problem, and to fit into our finite expectations? And then, when things don’t go as planned, we’re met with intense despair and grief. We assume the story is over. We blame God, lose hope, and give up on faith altogether.

And yet, Jesus meets our chaos, fear, and demands with unbothered patience and gentleness. He reminds us to “believe.”

He shows up according to His plan, grabs our hand, and when we least expect it, He whispers to us, “Okay dear child, it’s time for something new. Get up.” We were waiting for Him to heal the temporary sickness, but in His timing, He wanted to rescue us from the face of death itself.

Friend, in your story today, there might be a sick girl. There might be a problem or issue where you feel like Jesus isn’t showing up. You might feel like Jairus, waiting for your miracle and wondering what the heck is taking God so long! I invite you to trust His intentionality. I don’t think He’s causing your problem, but I know that His solution will be better than any scenario we could ever imagine.

And friend, maybe you feel like that daughter. So jaded by this broken world. So tired from failure after failure. So numb, so asleep, so ready for a Savior. Jesus is kneeling down, holding your face in His hands, inviting you to get up. He wants to walk with you into light and freedom. Will you take His hand? Will you step out in faith?

Oh little girl, Oh little boy, will you get up?

Cristina Schmitter

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