23 Jun Faith Greater Than Fear

Few men are more broken than the man with a dying child.

Scanning the landscape, Jairus’ eyes finally landed on Jesus. Time was draining, and he began  to run, his skirt fabric hiked up in his fist. Jairus was a ruler in the synagogue, probably a Pharisee. And his daughter was dying.

He fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, imploring, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well and live.” Jesus demands no other explanation and goes with Jairus.

The path to Jairus’ home is a landmine of miracles. On it, Jesus heals a woman who has been bleeding for 12 years.  And on it, Jairus also receives the worst news of his life: “Your daughter is dead,” [the messengers] said. “Why bother the teacher any more?” Scripture does not offer us any of Jarius’ exclamations nor tears; it doesn’t deliver us the swift punch to the gut he certainly felt—but simply, the words of Jesus: “Do not fear, only believe.”

As they finally arrive and enter the house, Jesus declares Jairus’ daughter to be only asleep. Of course, she is not really; yet Jesus’ power over life and death renders it inconsequential. Jesus says to her, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!”, and Jairus’ daughter is healed.

In the heart-breaking, head-splitting tension of possibly losing his beloved child, Jesus instructs Jairus with simple, yet weighty words. Belief is the antidote to fear. Jairus is to trust not in the pleasantness of the final outcome, but in the infinite goodness of Jesus who walks in step beside him.

This is the same gutsy trust that God calls us to: “Do not fear, only believe.” Yet, for many of us, this seems too simple. Perhaps, even, impossible. Can we really live free from fear of the unknown, of loneliness, of cancer, of terrorism, and infidelity, and job loss?

The answer is yes. In a world that offers us a million reasons to fear, belief is our shield, and fearlessness, our inheritance as sons and daughters. Fear will not be our master (Romans 8:15). And we know this because, as it turns out, the one broken over His child about to die is God Himself.

He knows.
He understands.
He is compassionate.
And He is greater.

Our God can be trusted.

Learning to become fearless people will not come without a fight. We will find that it is far less like traipsing through a garden, and far more like continually pulling weeds in a quickly growing plot. Yet even on the days when we feel unable to extract any more weeds, it is His grace that will sustain us. Our fearlessness rests not on our ability to be good believers, but on the goodness of the One in whom we believe. When we cry out, “I believe; help my unbelief!” God will be faithful to do so.

So come needy, come broken, come fearful: do not fear! Believe.

-Emily Geyer, Downtown Campus