Tuesday of Week 4 of Ordinary Time – Gospel
Commentary on Mark 5:21-43
Today’s passage illustrates a feature of Mark’s Gospel—inclusion, where one passage is contained inside another. Today we have two miracles, with one of them narrated inside the other. Again we are told of large crowds gathering around Jesus on the shore as once again he crosses the lake.
A synagogue official, Jairus, approaches and begs Jesus to lay his healing hands on his daughter who is very ill. Jairus was a person responsible for conducting services at the synagogue and keeping order. Sometimes the position was honorary, without any administrative responsibility.
Jairus asks Jesus to come and lay his healing hands on his daughter, as he has done for so many others. As Jesus makes his way to the house followed by a large crowd, there is a woman who had been haemorrhaging for 12 years. She had tried every kind of medical treatment in vain, and she was getting worse. Apart from the distress caused by the ailment, her bleeding rendered her ritually unclean. If the people around her knew of her condition, she might have been attacked. Hence she felt great anxiety about approaching Jesus without being identified or drawing attention.
She had this tremendous faith that, just by touching the hem of Jesus’ garment, she would be healed. And she was—immediately. In both cases, there was a deep conviction that physical contact, together with faith in Jesus’ power to heal, would bring about a cure. It is important for us to recover the connection between physical touch and healing.
Jesus knew something had happened:
Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my cloak?”
His disciples naturally wondered why he would say this when so many people were pressing in on him.
In fear and trembling, probably more afraid of the crowd than of Jesus, the woman identified herself. She then hears the beautiful words:
Daughter, your faith [i.e. your total trust in me] has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.
Peace indeed. Not only was she physically cured, but she could now mix freely with people again. She was fully restored to society and her community, without the shame that a woman of that time would feel, and without having to hide.
After this, we resume the first story. Messengers come to say that Jairus’ daughter has died. There is no need to bother Jesus any more. Jesus urges Jairus to keep believing. As he approaches the house, he separates from the crowd and brings only Peter, James and John with him as witnesses to a very special event. The house is full of mourners, wailing and weeping in the customary way.
Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.
In so speaking, Jesus is not denying the child’s real death, but it is an assurance that she will be wakened from her sleep of death. Death in the Old Testament is often described as sleep. And we, too, read on gravestones that so-and-so “went to sleep in the Lord”.
The crowd, often portrayed as so supportive of Jesus, is here shown as incredulous. They laugh at him. So everyone is put out of the room except the child’s parents and Jesus’ three companions. Then:
Taking her by the hand, he said to her, “Talitha koum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!”
The words suggest resurrection to new life. Immediately the girl got up and began to walk around. She was just 12 years old.
Those present are “overcome with amazement” and are told not to say anything to anyone. They are also reminded to give the poor girl some food. This is another step in the unfolding of Jesus’ true identity, while at the same time, he does not want that identity to be made public at this stage. It is another indication of Jesus’ mission:
I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.
(John 10:10)
Tuesday of Week 4 of Ordinary Time – First Reading
Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:9-10,14,24-25,30—19:3
Once again David surprises us by his reactions. The tables are being turned on the rebellious Absalom and a huge army goes out against his supporters. David himself, on the advice of his commanders, stays behind. Already they suspect his gentle attitude towards his son. As they set off, David told them:
Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom.
(2 Sam 18:5)
Absalom, now in flight on his mule, gets his long hair caught in branches as he rides under a tree. The mule rides on and Absalom is left hanging in mid-air (the mule apparently was the normal mount for royalty in David’s kingdom). We were told earlier that Absalom, who was stunningly handsome, had such an abundance of thick hair that he had to shave his head every year. Presumably, then, it was this hair which got entangled in the branches of the tree. Whatever the cause, it was the young man’s beauty which was his undoing.
Absalom hanging from the tree was immediately reported to Joab, the general leading the army. In verses not part of today’s reading, Joab asked the man why he had not struck Absalom down and received a reward. The man replied that even if he had 2,000 pieces of silver in his hands, he would not lay a hand on the king’s son, whom David had ordered his officers to protect. The soldier who had found Absalom told Joab:
…if I had dealt treacherously against his life [Absalom’s] (and there is nothing hidden from the king), then you yourself would have stood aloof. (2 Sam 18:13)
Joab then himself went and thrust three spears into the heart of the helpless Absalom, still hanging alive on the tree. In Joab’s view, the rebellion is now over and the threat to David’s throne has been removed.
The battle is now called off. Absalom is taken down from the tree and thrown into a deep pit in the forest. A pile of stones is set up as a marker for his grave.
Meanwhile, Ahimaaz, the son of the priest Zadok, offers to bring the good news of the victory to David. Joab tells him he is not the man to do it because, in fact, for David it will not be good news with his son dead. Instead an anonymous Cushite is sent to bring the message. Then Ahimaaz again pleads with Joab to let him go. Joab tells him:
Why will you run, my son, seeing that you have no reward for the tidings?
But in the end Joab lets Ahimaaz go. He runs after the Cushite and he actually overtakes him and is the first to reach the city wall.
A lookout on the city gates saw Ahimaaz running alone. David said:
If he is alone, there are tidings in his mouth.
A large group of fleeing soldiers could only have meant disaster. Then the second runner is seen and again David says it must mean good news. As the runners get closer, Ahimaaz is recognised as one of them. Said David:
He is a good man and comes with good tidings.
Ahimaaz then, in the presence of David, reports:
Blessed be the Lord your God, who has delivered up the men who raised their hand against my lord the king.
But David has only one question:
Is it well with the young man Absalom?
Ahimaaz, suddenly realising the significance of the question, is immediately cautious and, in fact, does not say what he knows:
I saw a great tumult when the king’s servant Joab sent your servant, but I do not know what it was.
David then put Ahimaaz aside until he heard the Cushite’s report. The Cushite too at first only gives a general report:
Good tidings for my lord the king! For the Lord has vindicated you this day, delivering you from the power of all who rose up against you.
Again, the king has only one concern and asks if Absalom was safe. But the indirect response of the Cushite says it all:
May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rise up to do you harm be like that young man.
Far from being overjoyed at the removal of his rebellious son, David takes refuge in a room over the city gate and is overcome with grief:
O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!
Words that have echoed down the centuries as one of the most moving expressions of a father’s love. And that in spite of all that Absalom had done against his father. It reminds one of the way that God loves us, even at our most sinful.
And what should have been a triumphant victory is turned into a day of mourning for the whole army.
As the text continues beyond our reading, we are told that the generals and soldiers had mixed feelings about David’s reaction. They wondered if Absalom, who was out to destroy his father, had lived and they had died, would David have been happier? In that, they may have been unfair. For it is only a parent who knows the feeling of having a child, even a rebellious child, lost in this way.
Once again, we see the deep humanity of David. He did what we often fail to do. He made the clear distinction between the person of his son and his actions. He was opposed to his son’s actions, but he deeply loved his son. We sometimes express that by saying that we love the sinner, but not the sin. So often, however, our hate is directed so that both forgiveness and reconciliation can be very difficult.
Jesus, of course, as the image of his Father, also set us an example in this regard. As men, filled with hatred, nailed him to the cross, he prayed:
Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. (Luke 23:34)
And, of course, every time we take advantage of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, we expect that God will forgive us no matter what we may have done or how often.
Let us remember, though, that as Christians we need to take on the same attitude as Jesus. Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer we say:
Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.
It is a dangerous prayer to make and we should think twice about its meaning before we let it trip so easily off our tongues.
Read more