Pastor's
Weekly Sermon
MEDITATION “It’s Too Late”
Any of you who are fans of Western movies will know exactly what I mean when I say that the cavalry is on the way! The arrival of the cavalry means that help is coming! You all know the scene. The camera focuses on a fort that is under attack; and the settlers in the fort are greatly outnumbered. A huge group of Indian warriors are riding around the fort shouting war cries and shooting arrows with deadly accuracy at the men who are atop the walls of the fort. Although the people in the fort fight bravely, they know that it’s only a matter of time until the Indians overpower them. Those Indians will eventually breach the walls of the fort, force open the gates, and massacre all of the inhabitants. But the settlers in the fort have managed to get a message to the local cavalry detachment asking for their help; and they hope against hope that the cavalry arrives in time. The movie camera cuts away to the headquarters of the cavalry, where the cavalry commander opens the message from the fort and immediately calls for his men to saddle up! Flags flying and bugles blaring, the cavalry gallops to the fort’s defense. When they arrive at the hill that overlooks the fort – there is always a hill in the distance, isn’t there? – they stop to assess the situation. How will this scene end? We assume that the Indians will flee in the face of the advancing cavalry. If that is the way the script is written, the people in the fort will celebrate joyfully as the Indians retreat and the cavalry triumphantly rides up to the gates. But there is another possible ending that we don’t like nearly as well. If someone like Quentin Tarentino directed the movie, the cavalry would arrive on the hilltop and see no Indians at all. The walls of the fort would be ablaze, its gates hanging open limply. There would be no sign of life. The commander would turn to the trooper beside him and say grimly, “We’re too late.”
Those might be the three most distressing words in the English language. “We’re too late.” There is nothing more that anyone can do. The end has come. We are stunned by the finality of those words. A cold lump settles in the pit of our stomach; and for a long moment, our brain stops working. All we can do is focus on is the fact that we can’t do anything more. That must have been how Jairus felt when people met him with the terrible news that his daughter had died. His little girl, the one on whom he doted, the one he had carried on his shoulders, the one who had given him big hugs and loving kisses – that beautiful little girl was gone. He had been so sure that Jesus could heal her; but now, there was nothing that anyone could do. “Don’t bother the teacher anymore,” his friends said. “It’s too late.”
But Jesus didn’t seem to be troubled at all. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Just believe.” Believe? Believe in the midst of mind-numbing grief? Believe what? Believe that what just happened didn’t really happen at all? Believe that his friends were mistaken and that he would find his daughter alive and well when he reached his home? Believe that the hands of time could be turned back? Believe that death wasn’t real? We can’t believe any of those things, and I’m pretty sure that Jairus didn’t believe them, either. When we hear the words, “It’s too late,” and Jesus responds, “Don’t be afraid; just believe,” we are confused and wonder what he means. That confusion disappears, though, when we find that the Greek word that is usually translated “believe” can also be translated as “trust.” “Don’t be afraid,” said Jesus. “Just trust.” Trust? Why, we do that all the time! We trust that the sun will rise tomorrow. We trust that our friends won’t betray us behind our backs. We trust that God loves us. Although we may not know the future, we know that some things are reliable; and those are the things that we trust. That’s what Jesus was asking Jairus to do: to trust him, even though all of Jairus’ friends said, “It’s too late.” Jairus had no idea about the extent of Jesus’ compassion and power; but he trusted. He went with Jesus, even though his friends were mourning and wailing; even though they laughed at Jesus; even though... well, even though it was too late.
And we know – as Paul Harvey would have said – the rest of the story. When they reached Jairus’ home, Jesus shooed everyone out except Jairus, his wife, and Jesus’ most trusted disciples. Jairus and his wife were weeping, and the disciples stood uncertainly in a corner, not even sure why they were there. Jesus knelt over the bed where the dead child was laid. He touched her hair… he touched her hand… and then he said, with love and power, “Little girl, I tell you: get up.” The child’s eyelids fluttered, then opened. Her parents gasped, and the mouths of the disciples fell open. With Jesus holding tightly to her hand, the child sat up in bed, then stood up and walked to her parents, who enfolded her in a joyous embrace. It was too late… but Jesus was there; and Jairus trusted him.
Jesus asks the same thing of us. When it’s too late, he tells us, “Don’t be afraid. Just trust me.” The question isn’t whether Jesus can do anything about the situation. We know that he can. We believe that he can! The question is whether or not we trust him to do anything. Most of the time, we don’t; and the reason is that Jesus frequently doesn’t do what we hope he will do. When it’s too late, we want Jesus to use his power to perform a miracle: cure our cancer, help us win the lottery, even raise the dead. Sometimes he does. More often, though, he uses his loving power to do something else, something that we never even imagined! And so, he asks us to trust him; and he asks us to trust him especially at those times when we say, “It’s too late.” Because the reality is that although it may be too late for us, it is never too late for Jesus.
I leave you with this thought. When you are tempted to shake your head in despair, weep, and say those three words, “It’s too late,” remember that there are three other words that are even more powerful: “Jesus is here.” Just trust him.
Any of you who are fans of Western movies will know exactly what I mean when I say that the cavalry is on the way! The arrival of the cavalry means that help is coming! You all know the scene. The camera focuses on a fort that is under attack; and the settlers in the fort are greatly outnumbered. A huge group of Indian warriors are riding around the fort shouting war cries and shooting arrows with deadly accuracy at the men who are atop the walls of the fort. Although the people in the fort fight bravely, they know that it’s only a matter of time until the Indians overpower them. Those Indians will eventually breach the walls of the fort, force open the gates, and massacre all of the inhabitants. But the settlers in the fort have managed to get a message to the local cavalry detachment asking for their help; and they hope against hope that the cavalry arrives in time. The movie camera cuts away to the headquarters of the cavalry, where the cavalry commander opens the message from the fort and immediately calls for his men to saddle up! Flags flying and bugles blaring, the cavalry gallops to the fort’s defense. When they arrive at the hill that overlooks the fort – there is always a hill in the distance, isn’t there? – they stop to assess the situation. How will this scene end? We assume that the Indians will flee in the face of the advancing cavalry. If that is the way the script is written, the people in the fort will celebrate joyfully as the Indians retreat and the cavalry triumphantly rides up to the gates. But there is another possible ending that we don’t like nearly as well. If someone like Quentin Tarentino directed the movie, the cavalry would arrive on the hilltop and see no Indians at all. The walls of the fort would be ablaze, its gates hanging open limply. There would be no sign of life. The commander would turn to the trooper beside him and say grimly, “We’re too late.”
Those might be the three most distressing words in the English language. “We’re too late.” There is nothing more that anyone can do. The end has come. We are stunned by the finality of those words. A cold lump settles in the pit of our stomach; and for a long moment, our brain stops working. All we can do is focus on is the fact that we can’t do anything more. That must have been how Jairus felt when people met him with the terrible news that his daughter had died. His little girl, the one on whom he doted, the one he had carried on his shoulders, the one who had given him big hugs and loving kisses – that beautiful little girl was gone. He had been so sure that Jesus could heal her; but now, there was nothing that anyone could do. “Don’t bother the teacher anymore,” his friends said. “It’s too late.”
But Jesus didn’t seem to be troubled at all. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Just believe.” Believe? Believe in the midst of mind-numbing grief? Believe what? Believe that what just happened didn’t really happen at all? Believe that his friends were mistaken and that he would find his daughter alive and well when he reached his home? Believe that the hands of time could be turned back? Believe that death wasn’t real? We can’t believe any of those things, and I’m pretty sure that Jairus didn’t believe them, either. When we hear the words, “It’s too late,” and Jesus responds, “Don’t be afraid; just believe,” we are confused and wonder what he means. That confusion disappears, though, when we find that the Greek word that is usually translated “believe” can also be translated as “trust.” “Don’t be afraid,” said Jesus. “Just trust.” Trust? Why, we do that all the time! We trust that the sun will rise tomorrow. We trust that our friends won’t betray us behind our backs. We trust that God loves us. Although we may not know the future, we know that some things are reliable; and those are the things that we trust. That’s what Jesus was asking Jairus to do: to trust him, even though all of Jairus’ friends said, “It’s too late.” Jairus had no idea about the extent of Jesus’ compassion and power; but he trusted. He went with Jesus, even though his friends were mourning and wailing; even though they laughed at Jesus; even though... well, even though it was too late.
And we know – as Paul Harvey would have said – the rest of the story. When they reached Jairus’ home, Jesus shooed everyone out except Jairus, his wife, and Jesus’ most trusted disciples. Jairus and his wife were weeping, and the disciples stood uncertainly in a corner, not even sure why they were there. Jesus knelt over the bed where the dead child was laid. He touched her hair… he touched her hand… and then he said, with love and power, “Little girl, I tell you: get up.” The child’s eyelids fluttered, then opened. Her parents gasped, and the mouths of the disciples fell open. With Jesus holding tightly to her hand, the child sat up in bed, then stood up and walked to her parents, who enfolded her in a joyous embrace. It was too late… but Jesus was there; and Jairus trusted him.
Jesus asks the same thing of us. When it’s too late, he tells us, “Don’t be afraid. Just trust me.” The question isn’t whether Jesus can do anything about the situation. We know that he can. We believe that he can! The question is whether or not we trust him to do anything. Most of the time, we don’t; and the reason is that Jesus frequently doesn’t do what we hope he will do. When it’s too late, we want Jesus to use his power to perform a miracle: cure our cancer, help us win the lottery, even raise the dead. Sometimes he does. More often, though, he uses his loving power to do something else, something that we never even imagined! And so, he asks us to trust him; and he asks us to trust him especially at those times when we say, “It’s too late.” Because the reality is that although it may be too late for us, it is never too late for Jesus.
I leave you with this thought. When you are tempted to shake your head in despair, weep, and say those three words, “It’s too late,” remember that there are three other words that are even more powerful: “Jesus is here.” Just trust him.
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