23 When Jesus came into the official’s house, and saw the flute-players and the crowd in noisy disorder, 24 He said, “Leave; for the girl has not died, but is asleep.” And they began laughing at Him. 25 But when the crowd had been sent out, He entered and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. 26 This news spread throughout all that land.
While the woman with the bleeding problem reached out and touched the Lord (as seen in yesterday’s reading), in this part of the story He comes to reach out and touch a dead girl. God is not confined to a set “procedure” for healing. So easily do we want Him to fit in a box, to be predictable. But the Lord will not be reduced to a formula.
In a masterful stroke of storytelling, Matthew records for us the contrast of perspectives. The girl, from the human standpoint, was dead. She ceased to be physically living—of this the official had been quite certain. Yet from the perspective of the Divine Healer she was simply “asleep.” Both perspectives are true, but focus on different levels of truth. Yes, death is a reality, contrary to what some believe, such as adherents of the Christian Science group, that death is illusory. We live in a real, though fallen, world which is not simply a product of our imagination or lack of faith. Death is real. Yet Jesus, knowing that death for the girl was only brief, used a more appropriate word for her state, namely, “sleep.” In other words, it was not an illusion of death but the temporariness of death that Jesus perceived.
The atmosphere in the house went from disorder to disrespect. The music reflected the mourning customs of the day; the disorder echoed the confusion that death always brings. Jesus’ words were not euphemistic or a ludicrous denial of reality, as some who were present thought. Their lack of faith in Christ prevented them from seeing God at work.
Jesus, in simplicity and calmness of manner, took the girl’s hand and she got up. That’s all it took. He brought order to disorder. Where the fallen, sinful world had wreaked its havoc, He brought peace, stilling the noise, like a storm on the sea of Galilee. Death no longer had its sting, a foretaste of what was to come, the permanent healing when we are raised again at Christ’s return.
A friend of mine used to say, after experiencing remission from cancer which ultimately took his life, “All healing here is temporary. In the end, we all die. There is only one permanent healing. ” Every temporary healing is to be enjoyed as a blessing now and a reminder of better things to come!
Lord, the touch of Your hand gives me hope. Sickness and death remind me that the best is yet to come. I am so glad that here and now is not all there is.
Excellent Chuck…as usual. May I be permitted to make one meaningless correction; that is the use of “reeked” in the second to last paragraph before our prayer. I believe you’re looking for “wreaked”. The only reason I noticed this is I got corrected on this very same usage many years ago. Keep up the good work.
Blessings,
Matt