Twelve Years of Joy and Misery

Two days ago, Americans remembered the tragedy of the fall of the Twin Towers in New York, the partial destruction of the Pentagon, and the crash of a fourth plane – commonly called the 9/11 tragedy. Although it happened twenty-two years ago, the events are vivid in many people’s minds. I was in a governmental office in Dallas, Texas, and was rushed out of the building, fearing it would be under attack. The following week, I returned to India, where my family was, and heard from them that the people of Islam faith, from whom we purchased our groceries, celebrated those events of 9/11. When I asked the butcher if that was true, he said, “Yes. It was a glorious day!”

A same day could bring extreme sorrow to one group while extreme joy to the other. Every time someone is put to death by capital punishment in the United States or other countries that practice it, one family grieves while another rejoices or sighs in relief.

In Galilee, the Lord Jesus was traveling through cities and villages, healing people of their illnesses, diseases, and demon oppressions. Two ladies and their families faced similar opposing feelings on the same day as they met the Lord (Luke 8:40–56).

The older of the two had been suffering from uncontrollable menstrual flow for twelve years. In a culture that shunned the flow of any bodily fluid, especially menstrual flow, she was in extreme shame as much as pain. She knew if she could grab Jesus’s kraspedon, her menstrual irregularity would stop. (Jewish males wore an article of special clothing under their outer garments that connected to their inner garments and reminded them of their commitment to God. It was called kraspedon. The law demanded that they wear it [Lev 15:38]. The English translations call them “tassels.”). Making her way through the crowd, she approached him and grabbed his kraspedon (like yanking someone’s underwear). Just as she believed, she was healed at that moment. Since it was a personal and close touch (rather than someone bumping into him in the crowd), Jesus knew power had gone from him and asked who grabbed him. Realizing that she was caught “red-handed,” she came and revealed her identity. The Lord declared her cleansed. Twelve years of sorrow ended that day.

At that same hour, Jairus and his family entered sorrow – their twelve-year-old daughter had died. He was a synagogue ruler (in those days, those who were benevolent and built a synagogue for Jews were called synagogue rulers; they could even be Greeks or Romans.) While he might have thought being kind to the Hebrews and building a synagogue for them would protect him from harm and pain, the opposite was true. His one and only daughter had died. He was with the Lord Jesus when he heard that news. The Lord assured him she would live again because she was only asleep. Those who heard that laughed at him. Ignoring them and entering his house with three disciples, Jairus, and his wife, the Lord Jesus said, “Little one, Arise” (8:54). She rose from the dead as if she was only asleep. The Lord instructed the parents to feed her (implying her death was somehow connected with her inability to eat).

In the Lord’s presence, any number of vast years of sorrow dissipate in a moment. He alone can turn our sorrows, miseries, illnesses, worries, oppressions, and scars into joy and gladness. He says to each one of us, “Little one, Arise.”