Of the privileged men in the Gospels, Jairus is one we can learn from. We're circling back to Mark's sandwich story of Jairus and the bleeding woman because the theological meat in this story is not only faith but privilege. Who knew the Bible talked about such scandalous stuff?

Switching it up

Most of the time, the nerdiest English Major parts of this podcast fall into form criticism.  I love to uncover the structures and devices authors use and examine what they achieve with them.  It’s like picking apart a soccer match and appreciating both individual skill and team tactics.  Today we’re doing something a bit different. This episode falls squarely in the category of sociological criticism, where we look at the societal setting and what the author says about it.  

First, we need to review what we know about Jairus.  Mark calls him “synagogue leader” or “leader” 4 times, not because Mark is forgetful.  Jairus’ position is important.  He is part of the religious establishment, one who Coogan and fellow editors say has the authority to oversee the “worship and life of the congregation”  (113).  He’s part of the cool kids club, privileged because of his gender, social status, and wealth. The man has resources.

The woman in the story is his complete opposite.  She has suffered for 12 years with a bleeding condition that makes her “unclean” according to the Jewish purity laws.  This means she spends her life alone.  No one touches her.  No one calls her by name. She is desolate, which we know because she has spent every last penny trying to find wholeness from doctors unable to make her better.  

With just these two characters, Mark paints a societal picture.  Some are at the top of the food chain, and some are at the bottom.  The only one who questions this arrangement is the one made miserable by it.  Even after twelve years of isolation, the hemorrhaging woman still values herself enough to seek the healing she needs, even if she has to break the laws to do it.  Richard Swanson says these laws were put in place “for the sake of the stability of the community that reverenced God” ( 274). To make herself whole, the woman puts herself ahead of those laws and, by extension, ahead of the community.  A throwaway woman on the margins puts herself in the center and Jesus allies himself with her mission. Tell me why my Norwegian Lutheran ears have never heard the story told that way before.

Privilege: the difference between begging and stealing

I’m getting ahead of myself.  This story starts with Jairus, who strides through the crowd toward Jesus.   A little backstory for you: the religious authority crowd Jairus hangs with has already conflicted with Jesus seven times before this fifth chapter (see notes).  They probably have a text chain going regarding their dealings with him.  Jesus should expect some animosity from Jairus, some sly questioning and testing.  But Jairus walks right up to him and, without preamble or apology, begs for his daughter’s healing. That’s privilege, which neither exempts us from pain nor from needing help.  However, as we’re about to see, it does change how we get that help. 

As Jairus leads Jesus and the crowd to his house, I imagine him constantly looking back, urging Jesus to hurry up already. His little girl is dying!  Enter the plot twist. We hear in verse 27 that the woman “had heard about Jesus.”  How, we don’t know, but we can assume she hasn’t gotten any texts.  She’s too on the edges of society for that.  Shockingly, she sneaks up behind Jesus in the crowd to touch his cloak, believing that if she does, she will be “made well.”  Jesus feels power flow from him and stops.  Imagine Jairus’ distress.  What could be important enough to delay Jesus right now?  Jesus turns about in the crowd and asks, “Who touched my clothes?”  Somehow, the panicked Jairus doesn’t say a word, but the disciples do. “What are you talking about Jesus? We’re in the middle of a crowd.”  Their subtext is, “And the synagogue leader’s daughter is about to die!” They’re advocating for Jairus, the prominent one with a deep need.  But Jesus has already seen Jairus.  He ignores the disciples and looks all around for the woman, thus advocating for the one nobody sees.  Jesus disrupts privileged Jairus’ story, centering the one others avoid and exclude.  

Jesus asks a second time, “Who touched me?” After initiating her healing, the woman chooses to come forward in “fear and trembling” to tell her story. She could have slinked away as planned, but she doesn’t, even though she’s terrified of the consequences.  She’s touched Jesus and made him unclean.  She’s defied the laws and is now speaking about it publicly to a male rabbi and a potentially furious crowd. Will Jesus call for her punishment?  Denise Nadeau points out that this story is “marked by the extent of both the woman’s agency, her vulnerability, and the fact that Jesus just listens to what she says” (100).   She continues, “Jesus has adopted the only behavior appropriate for an ally in this situation - to listen and learn about the realities of the life of this excluded woman and to accept her without judgment” (100).  From the beginning of her story, the woman knows exactly what she needs to do, and she does it.   Indeed, Jesus’ main action is to invite her to share her story and bless her for it.  He publically calls her daughter, gives credit to her faith in making her well, and sends her in full physical, spiritual, and social peace. 

So what about Jairus?  He must be freaking out about his little girl while the woman’s story unfolds, but unbelievably, he remains silent.  We’ve all seen worse behavior in response to a mixed-up coffee order.  What could be going on with him?  Mark keeps telling us Jairus is a leader in the synagogue.  He is undoubtedly familiar with the laws prescribing the distance she must keep.  Jairus should be furious at her actions, primarily because of the delay in getting to his little girl, but also on principle.  Jairus would never break the purity laws!  But this is the key:  It’s not Jairus’ high moral ground that allows him to honor those laws.  It’s his privilege.  He doesn’t need to sneak a touch of Jesus’ cloak because he just gets to ask for the healing he needs. Jairus has his eyes on Jesus, and Jesus has his eyes on the woman.  Maybe, because Jesus focuses on her, Jairus sees her vulnerable humanity more clearly than he sees the laws she’s broken.  Perhaps Jairus understands that he too, would break a few laws to get the healing he needs.

“It’s not Jairus’ high moral ground that allows him to honor those laws. It’s his privilege.”

While Jesus is still speaking to the woman, some people come from Jairus’ house to say something very strange.  “Your daughter is dead.  Why trouble the teacher any further?”  What?  How about some empathy for poor Jairus?  How about, “I’m so sorry, Jairus. We’ll walk you home?”  Nope.  “Your daughter is dead.  It’s too late. This is beyond the teacher.  Let’s not trouble him any further.”  These people bear the news of the girl’s death and, as a bonus, a lesson about scarcity.   Their underlying message implies that pausing to see and hear the woman has used up all of Jesus’ power, all of his time, and all of his compassion.  In their view, privileged Jairus gets nothing because it was all given to the marginalized one.  But Jesus hasn’t lost sight of Jairus at all. At the same time Jesus speaks tremendous freedom to the woman, he also overhears what the people say to Jairus.  Jesus doesn’t even acknowledge the liars.  He only talks to Jairus.  “Do not fear.  Only believe.” 

Then, Jesus allows no one to follow them except for three disciples.  The crowd stays behind.  There will be no more whispering and wondering, no more gossip from callously curious people plaguing a father in his worst moments.  Jesus compassionately gives a terrified father room to breathe as they continue to where his daughter lies dead.  When they finally arrive at the synagogue leader's home, professional mourners are hard at work, weeping and wailing.  Jesus questions them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep?  The child is not dead but sleeping.”   The mourners laugh at him.  In continued compassion, Jesus kicks out the scoffers and takes the girl’s parents to her bedside.  Does he hold them?  How do they even stand in their grief?  Jesus takes the girl by the hand and tells her to rise.  She does, and her parents are overcome.  Jairus, privileged one, there is enough for you.  Jesus knows right where you are, even when he turns his gaze to find the woman.  Do not fear. Only believe, and learn to turn your gaze, too.

There’s no doubt Jairus has had a hell of a day.  I hope he eats comfort food and watches sweet movies with his wife and daughter for as long as he needs.  I hope they all get therapy after their trauma.  But I also hope Jairus invites the healed woman over for dinner, and she becomes a family friend.  I hope he never walks past an “unclean person” again without hearing their stories.  I hope he can contribute to someone else’s not enough out of his overabundance without fear. I hope whenever he encounters a person of less privilege doing something he would never do, he listens and learns from them without judgment.  I hope he still has power at that synagogue of his and finds a way to change a system that shoves anyone to the sides.  I hope he teaches his little girl to rise and do the same.

Notes

Conflict: Mark 1:22, Mark 2:6-11, Mark 2:15-17, Mark 2:18-20, Mark 2:23-28, Mark 3:1-6, Mark 3:22.

Works Cited

Coogan,  Michael D. Editor. Associate Editors: Marc Z. Brettler, Carol A. Newsom, Pheme Perkins, The New Oxford Annotated Bible Third Edition. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001

Nadeau, Denise. “Affirming and Transforming Relations: Refugee Women and Imperial Violence” In M. Degegiglio-Bellmare & G.M. Garcia (Eds.) Talitha Cum! The grace of solidarity in a globalized world (pp. 86-106). Retrieved from https://www.koed.hu/talitha/denise.pdf.

Swanson, Richard W. “Moving Bodies and Translating Scripture.  Interpretation and Incarnation” Word & World, vol.31, 2011, pp. 271-278.