Grieving Parents
Jan. 30: Tuesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time
Today, we hear two stories of children dying, and their fathers mourning. In the first reading, that’s the end; in the Gospel, there’s still hope. That latter is pretty obviously near to my heart, but I bet a lot of people can identify.
Reading 1
2 Sm18:9-10, 14b, 24-25a, 30–19:3
Absalom unexpectedly came up against David's servants. He was mounted on a mule, and, as the mule passed under the branches of a large terebinth, his hair caught fast in the tree. He hung between heaven and earth while the mule he had been riding ran off. Someone saw this and reported to Joab that he had seen Absalom hanging from a terebinth. And taking three pikes in hand, he thrust for the heart of Absalom, still hanging from the tree alive.
Now David was sitting between the two gates, and a lookout went up to the roof of the gate above the city wall, where he looked about and saw a man running all alone. The lookout shouted to inform the king, who said, "If he is alone, he has good news to report."
The king said, "Step aside and remain in attendance here." So he stepped aside and remained there.
When the Cushite messenger came in, he said, "Let my lord the king receive the good news that this day the LORD has taken your part, freeing you from the grasp of all who rebelled against you."
But the king asked the Cushite, "Is young Absalom safe?"
The Cushite replied, "May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rebel against you with evil intent be as that young man!"
The king was shaken, and went up to the room over the city gate to weep. He said as he wept, "My son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son!"
Joab was told that the king was weeping and mourning for Absalom; and that day's victory was turned into mourning for the whole army when they heard that the king was grieving for his son.
Absalom is David’s third son, and a favorite. But after a while, he became everyone’s favorite—he raised an army and rebelled against the king. David was forced to flee the city and had only a small force to defend himself.
Then today’s reading happened.
You’d think David would be happy, regaining his kingdom without a bloody battle, but that’s the thing about parents. We love our children no matter what they do. David hoped to reconcile with Absalom, but now it’s impossible.
Responsorial Psalm
PS 86:1-2, 3-4, 5-6
R. Listen, Lord, and answer me.
Incline your ear, O LORD; answer me,
for I am afflicted and poor.
Keep my life, for I am devoted to you;
save your servant who trusts in you.
You are my God.
R. Listen, Lord, and answer me.
Have mercy on me, O Lord,
for to you I call all the day.
Gladden the soul of your servant,
for to you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
R. Listen, Lord, and answer me.
For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving,
abounding in kindness to all who call upon you.
Hearken, O LORD, to my prayer
and attend to the sound of my pleading.
R. Listen, Lord, and answer me.
This is an individual lament, sung by David himself. You wouldn’t think the king of Israel could call himself “afflicted and poor,” but think about the first reading. No parent should have to bury their child.
Alleluia
Mt 8:17
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
Christ took away our infirmities
and bore our diseases.
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
Jesus didn’t cure people just to cure people, but also so that others could learn about Him and come to faith. The people speaking here are spreading God’s word because of all He did for them.
Will you?
Gospel
Mk 5:21-43
When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a large crowd gathered around him, and he stayed close to the sea. One of the synagogue officials, named Jairus, came forward. Seeing him he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, saying, “My daughter is at the point of death. Please, come lay your hands on her that she may get well and live.” He went off with him and a large crowd followed him.
There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse. She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction. Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?” But his disciples said to him, “You see how the crowd is pressing upon you, and yet you ask, Who touched me?” And he looked around to see who had done it. The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.”
While he was still speaking, people from the synagogue official’s house arrived and said, “Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?” Disregarding the message that was reported, Jesus said to the synagogue official, “Do not be afraid; just have faith.” He did not allow anyone to accompany him inside except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they arrived at the house of the synagogue official, he caught sight of a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. So he went in and said to them, “Why this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but asleep.” And they ridiculed him. Then he put them all out. He took along the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and entered the room where the child was. He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” The girl, a child of twelve, arose immediately and walked around. At that they were utterly astounded. He gave strict orders that no one should know this and said that she should be given something to eat.
Usually, I break longer passages up into more readable paragraphs, because it kinda annoys me when they just run on and on. But in this case, there’s value to calling attention to the three-part structure of the story.
When one story interrupts another, it’s called “intercalation.” We can’t just hear about Jairus’ daughter in isolation; we must also hear about the bleeding woman who stops Jesus on the way to Jairus’ house. Because of this delay, the little girl dies.
How can the miracle of curing the bleeding woman cause harm to the little girl? How can Jesus allow that?
After healing the bleeding woman, Jesus ignores the crowd’s objections and continues on to Jairus’ home. He takes the little girl’s hand and says “Talitha koum" - “Little girl, I say to you, get up!” And, of course, she does. Two miraculous healings in one day!
The point of the interruption is twofold, I think. First, it tells us that God works in His own time. It’s not that Jairus asks for help and Jesus just immediately does it, like a servant. Jesus took care of the daughter when the time was right.
Second, it shows that hope is never lost. The girl was dead. Just imagine how angry Jairus must’ve been, seeing the bleeding woman waylay Jesus.1 But Jesus made time for both the woman and the little girl.
It’s impossible for us, trapped in time as we are, to understand why Jesus seems to delay in answering our prayers. All we can do is hope and wait for the right time.
For any reader who’s not aware, my daughter is extremely sick, with an incurable and degenerative disease called Metachromatic Leukodystrophy. We pray for a miracle every day, but so far, Jesus has not said “Talitha koum.” Perhaps there’s a bleeding woman who needs his help right now, but from my perspective it’s definitely difficult to wait.
Anger is supposedly the second stage of grief, but I can tell you from personal experience, it comes after the bargaining.