I Believe in Miracles
Mark 5:21-43
University Christian Church, Seattle, WA
July 2, 2006
Rev. Sandy Messick

• Do you believe in miracles? Surprising things? Unexpected things? Things that by all logic and reasoning shouldn’t happen but do? I believe in miracles. And so does Robert Fulghum.

In his book, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, he says that miracles happen all the time. Those times when not only don’t things go wrong, but nothing seems to be able to keep them from going right. For instance, he says, “Ever drop a glass in the sink when you’re washing dishes and have it bounce nine times and not even chip? Ever come out after work to find your lights have been on all day and your battery’s dead but you’re parked on a hill and you let your old hoopy roll and it fires the first time you pop the clutch and off you roar with a high heart? Ever pull out that drawer in your desk that has a 10-year accumulation of junk in it, pull it too far and too far, and just as it’s about to spill its contents all over the room you get a knee under it and stagger back hopping on one foot doing a balancing act like the Great Zucchini and you don’t lose it? A near-miss at an intersection; the glass of knocked over milk that waltzes across the table but doesn’t spill; the deposit that beat your rubber check to the bank because there was a holiday you forgot about; the lump in your breast that turned out to be benign; the heart attack that turned out to be gas; picking the right lane for once in a traffic jam; opening the door of your car with a coat hanger on the first try. And on and on and on.” Miracles every one of them.

Robert Fulghum believes in miracles and so do I. A miracle is that which by all logic and reasoning shouldn’t happen, but does. Our scripture reading this morning is about miracles.

• In this passage Mark uses the sandwich approach to tell us something about God. He’s wrapped two stories into one. Two separate events that share the same message.
• The first story is of a woman who’s been bleeding for 12 years! Unclean! Unwell! Outcast! For 12 years! And she just reaches out towards Jesus in the midst of a crowd and touches his robed and she is healed. Now that’s a miracle.
• The second story, sandwiched around the first like two slices of rye bread wrapped around corned beef, is the story of a man’s daughter who is sick. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, the daughter is 12 years old. And Jesus is on his way to heal her when he gets interrupted by the woman from the first story. He gets delayed. He comes too late. By the time he arrives, the daughter has died. But Jesus isn’t stopped, and after removing the doubters from the room, he takes the little girl’s hand and says, “Talitha kumi” Little girl, get up. And she does! Another miracle. Something which by all logic and reasoning shouldn’t happen, but does!

• Now with our 21st century eyesight, we look skeptically upon such claims.
• We cast a doubting eye at televangelists who make claims of miraculous healings.
• We shake our heads at stories of heavenly appearances, healing waters, or magic potions.
• And though we wish with all our hearts that our loved ones could come back to life and be well again, we also know in our heads that life doesn’t work that way.
• With our 21st century eyesight, we raise a skeptical eyebrow at claims of miracles, and we devise explanations to explain them away.
• Maybe the woman was well, but didn’t know it. Perhaps it was all in her head anyway and she just believed that Jesus could heal her. Maybe the disease had run it’s course and she would have gotten well even if she’d stayed home. Maybe she wasn’t really well. After all, we don’t hear from her again and don’t know what happened to her.
• And what about that little girl. Maybe when Jesus said, Don’t worry, she’s sleeping, he really meant that! Maybe she was in a coma and came out of it at the sound of Jesus’ voice. After all, were any brain wave tests run to determine if she was really dead? Maybe the neighbors just got over excited and pronounced her dead too soon.
• But whatever the explanation, she couldn’t have really been dead. Because then, if Jesus really did bring her back to life, well then…how do you explain that.

• Here’s what I think. Whatever happened that day some 2,000 years ago when Jesus encountered a suffering woman and a sick little girl, whatever happened that day, I believe miracles happened. And for the record, I do believe that Jesus brought healing and new life. But that isn’t the miracle that most amazes me.

What amazes me isn’t what Jesus did, but the faith that these people had in spite of the evidence around them. Despite what the world told them, in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, these people believed that Jesus was more powerful than the disease, more powerful even than death. These people believed, in spite of all logic and reasoning, that Jesus could save them. And in that faith, they had hope.

• This woman, this poor suffering woman had been sick for 12 years. She had spent all her money on the quacks and fish oil salesman. She’d watched the infomercials about new vitamins and herbal supplements. She’d tried all the new age cures, worn magnets on her wrists, tried acupuncture and chirotherapy. She’d been to this specialist and that one, and the one that her aunt Helen’s friends brother’s mailman knew. And nothing helped. Not only was she not better, she was worse. Then she hears about Jesus. And she believed. And she hoped. And she acted on her faith. And because of her faith, her willingness to try once more, she was healed. A miracle.
• And then there was Jairus. The leader of the synagogue. And he believed too. Not for himself, but for his child. His child that was so sick. His child that was dead. “Don’t bother the teacher any more,” the others said, “There’s no more hope. The child is gone.” And he knew with his head they were right. His rational mind told him his daughter was dead. But still he believed. His faith didn’t allow him to give up. So he followed Jesus into his house. And he witnessed the breath rush back into his daughter’s body, and the color rush back into her face. He believed. Another miracle.

Mark tells the story of two people, a man and a woman, with nothing in common except despair and hope. They believed! They believed in Jesus. They believed in a power that could conquer despair and disease, and even death. And that, my friends, is a miracle. The power of faith that enables us to hope, and trust, and act, despite the worst the world can throw at us, despite what our rational minds tell us, despite what we can objectively measure and prove. And miracles like that happen all the time, even to you and me.

When a self made businessman who takes pride in never asking for directions or reading instruction manuals bows his head in prayer, seeking God’s guidance, it’s a miracle.

When a young adult who has declared herself an atheist, independent of any need for God, suddenly finds herself drawn into church because something is missing inside, it’s a miracle.

When we read in the paper about yet another car bombing in Iraq and another 66 people dead, and a young Israeli soldier taken captive, and more U.S. troops killed, or arrested for gross offenses, when we look at the world objectively and find very little to hope about, and yet we come here anyway because we believe in a God who is more powerful than all of that, because we believe that in spite of it all God is at work in our world through us and in spite of us, because we trust in a God who notices women who are suffering and little children who are dying and is moved to work through us to bring healing, that, my friends, is a miracle.

And I believe in miracles. And so do you. That’s why we’re here. May God create more miracles, in us, and through us. Amen.