Bird's-eye view
In this masterful narrative, Luke interweaves two stories of healing that demonstrate Jesus' absolute authority over both chronic disease and death itself. The passage presents a study in contrasts: a prominent synagogue ruler, Jairus, making a public plea, and a nameless, unclean woman making a desperate, secret approach. Both are driven by twelve years of suffering, the daughter's age matching the duration of the woman's illness. Jesus is on His way to deal with what appears to be the more urgent crisis, the dying girl, when He is interrupted by the "lesser" crisis of the bleeding woman. But in God's economy, there are no interruptions, only divine appointments. The delay tests and strengthens Jairus's faith, while the healing of the woman publicly displays the nature of the power that Jesus is about to wield over death. The climax is a quiet room where the Lord of life speaks a simple command and a dead girl gets up, confounding the cynical grief of the world and giving a potent preview of the resurrection.
The central theme is the nature of true, desperate faith in the face of utter hopelessness. Both Jairus and the woman have exhausted all other options. They come to Jesus as their last resort, and He proves to be their only hope. The passage beautifully illustrates the gospel principle that Christ's cleanness and life are more powerful than our uncleanness and death. His power flows out to heal, and His word is sufficient to raise the dead. The story rebukes the world's cynical laughter and calls the believer to a simple, tenacious trust: "Do not be afraid any longer; only believe."
Outline
- 1. Two Desperate Supplicants (Luke 8:40-43)
- a. The Public Plea of a Prominent Man (Luke 8:40-42a)
- b. The Press of the Crowd (Luke 8:42b)
- c. The Secret Plight of a Desperate Woman (Luke 8:43)
- 2. An Interruption of Grace (Luke 8:44-48)
- a. A Touch of Faith, An Immediate Healing (Luke 8:44)
- b. A Question for Confession, Not Information (Luke 8:45-46)
- c. A Trembling Testimony and a Public Restoration (Luke 8:47)
- d. A Covenant Daughter Sent in Peace (Luke 8:48)
- 3. The Confrontation with Death (Luke 8:49-56)
- a. The Arrival of Hopeless News (Luke 8:49)
- b. The King's Command: Fear Not, Only Believe (Luke 8:50)
- c. The Purging of Unbelief (Luke 8:51-52)
- d. The Scornful Laughter of the World (Luke 8:53)
- e. The Word of Power and the Return of Life (Luke 8:54-55)
- f. The Proof of Resurrection and the Command for Silence (Luke 8:56)
Context In Luke
This passage comes in a section of Luke's Gospel where Jesus' authority is being demonstrated in a rapid-fire, escalating series of miracles. In this same chapter, He has taught with authority in the Parable of the Sower, calmed a life-threatening storm with a word, and cast out a legion of demons from a man in the country of the Gerasenes. He has shown His power over the spiritual world, the natural world, and the demonic world. Now, returning to the Jewish side of the lake, He will demonstrate His authority over the brokenness of the human body and, climactically, over death itself. These miracles are not random acts of kindness; they are signs of the coming kingdom. They are invasions of grace, pushing back the curse of the Fall and showing that the King has arrived to make all things new. This story serves as a powerful prelude to His own death and resurrection, the ultimate demonstration of His victory over the grave.
Key Issues
- The Nature of Saving Faith
- Divine Appointments vs. Human Interruptions
- Christ's Power Over Ceremonial Uncleanness
- The Relationship Between Faith and Healing
- The Reality of Resurrection vs. The Cynicism of the World
- The Messianic Secret
Faith in the Crowd
It is one thing to believe in Jesus in the quiet of a synagogue or in the company of other disciples. It is another thing entirely to exercise faith in the middle of a chaotic, pressing, anonymous crowd. And that is precisely where we find our two heroes in this story. Jairus, a man of high station, has to humble himself publicly, falling at Jesus' feet amidst the throng. The woman, a person of no station, has to fight her way through that same throng, convinced that a simple, stolen touch will be enough. The crowd represents the world. It is busy, distracting, and largely oblivious to the real spiritual transactions taking place in its midst. Many people were touching Jesus that day, bumping and jostling against Him. But only one person touched Him with faith, and it was this touch that drew out His healing power. This story forces us to ask what kind of "touch" we have. Is it the incidental, casual contact of the crowd, or the intentional, desperate, believing contact of the sick woman?
Verse by Verse Commentary
40-42 And as Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed Him, for they had all been waiting for Him. And behold, there came a man named Jairus, and he was an official of the synagogue. And falling at Jesus’ feet, he began to plead with Him to come to his house, for he had an only daughter, about twelve years old, and she was dying. But as He went, the crowds were pressing against Him.
Jesus returns from His excursion to the Gentile side of the lake and is met by an expectant Jewish crowd. Out of this crowd emerges a man of importance, Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue. This man was part of the religious establishment, the very group that was growing increasingly hostile to Jesus. For him to come and fall at Jesus' feet in public was an act of profound humility and desperation. His need overrode his dignity. His only daughter, twelve years old, was at the point of death. The specificity of the details, an only daughter at the cusp of womanhood, highlights the depth of the father's grief. He pleads with Jesus to come to his house, believing a personal visit from the Master is required. Jesus agrees, and the slow procession begins, hampered by the crushing weight of the crowd.
43-44 And a woman who had a hemorrhage for twelve years, and could not be healed by anyone, came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His garment, and immediately her hemorrhage stopped.
Here is the divine "interruption." A woman, unnamed, suffers from a chronic hemorrhage. The duration is significant: twelve years, the same as the age of Jairus's daughter. One life was just beginning to blossom when the other's life began to drain away. Under the Mosaic Law, her condition made her ceremonially unclean (Lev. 15:25-27). Anything and anyone she touched would become unclean. This meant twelve years of social, marital, and religious isolation. She was a perpetual outcast. She had spent all her resources on physicians, to no avail. She comes to Jesus as her absolute last hope. Her approach is furtive, from behind. She doesn't dare to make a public plea. She believes that if she can just touch the fringe, or tassel (the tzitzit), of His garment, a symbol of Jewish piety and obedience to the Law, she will be healed. Her faith, though mixed with superstition, is fixed on the person of Jesus. And the result is immediate and total. The flow of blood stops.
45-46 And Jesus said, “Who is the one who touched Me?” And while they were all denying it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds are surrounding and pressing in on You.” But Jesus said, “Someone did touch Me, for I knew that power had gone out of Me.”
Jesus stops. He knows exactly what has happened, but He asks the question not for His own information, but for the woman's good. He wants to turn her secret healing into a public testimony. He will not let her slip away with a stolen blessing. Peter, ever the pragmatist, states the obvious: everyone is touching Him. Peter sees the physical reality, but Jesus perceives the spiritual transaction. The touch of the crowd was incidental; this touch was intentional. It was a touch of faith that acted like a conduit, and Jesus felt virtue, or power, go out from Him. Healing is not an impersonal magic aura; it is a real expenditure of the Lord's divine power, directed by His will.
47-48 And when the woman saw that she had not escaped notice, she came trembling. And falling down before Him, she declared in the presence of all the people the reason why she had touched Him and how she had been immediately healed. And He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Realizing she is caught, the woman comes forward in fear and trembling. She likely feared a rebuke for making Him ceremonially unclean. But instead of a rebuke, she finds grace. She falls down before Him and tells the whole story. Jesus does not just heal her physically; He restores her publicly. He gives her a new name: "Daughter." This is a term of endearment and covenantal inclusion. He affirms that her faith was the instrument of her salvation. "Your faith has saved you" does not mean her faith was the source of the power, but it was the hand that reached out and received the gift that Christ's power provided. He sends her away not just healed, but in "peace," the Hebrew concept of shalom, which means wholeness, well-being, and right relationship with God.
49-50 While He was still speaking, someone came from the house of the synagogue official, saying, “Your daughter has died; do not trouble the Teacher anymore.” But when Jesus heard this, He answered him, “Do not be afraid any longer; only believe, and she will be saved.”
Just as one story of hope reaches its joyful conclusion, the other story plunges into utter despair. The messenger arrives with the worst possible news. It's too late. The delay caused by the woman has been fatal. From a human perspective, Jairus's fears are realized. The advice is logical: "do not trouble the Teacher anymore." Healing the sick is one thing, but death is final. But Jesus overhears this and immediately speaks to Jairus, cutting off the voice of despair before it can take root in the father's heart. His command is direct and contains the central lesson of the entire passage: "Do not be afraid any longer; only believe." He calls Jairus to a faith that transcends circumstances, a faith that believes in Jesus even when the situation is, by all human standards, completely and utterly hopeless.
51-53 So when He came to the house, He did not allow anyone to enter with Him, except Peter and John and James, and the girl’s father and mother. Now they were all crying and lamenting for her, but He said, “Stop crying, for she has not died, but is asleep.” And they began laughing at Him, knowing that she had died.
Jesus arrives at a house full of the chaos of death. There are professional mourners, wailing and making a great commotion. Jesus first brings order by clearing the room. He allows only His inner circle and the parents to remain. This is not to be a public spectacle. Then He makes a statement that seems absurd: "she has not died, but is asleep." He is not denying the biological reality of her death. Rather, He is redefining death from His divine perspective. For the Lord of life, death is a temporary condition, like sleep, from which one can be awakened. The response of the mourners is telling. Their professional wailing immediately turns to scornful laughter. They are the voice of cynical "realism." They know death when they see it. Their laughter is the laughter of a world that believes the grave has the final say.
54-55 He, however, took her by the hand and called, saying, “Child, arise!” And her spirit returned, and she stood up immediately. And He gave orders for something to be given her to eat.
Ignoring their scorn, Jesus performs the miracle with beautiful simplicity. He takes the dead girl by the hand, an act that would make a normal Jew unclean, but for Jesus, it is a conduit of life. He speaks a simple, authoritative command: "Child, arise!" And just as His word created the world, His word recreates her life. Her spirit returned. Luke, the physician, is precise. This was not resuscitation; it was a true resurrection. Life is restored, and she immediately stands up. Then comes the wonderfully practical touch. Jesus tells them to give her something to eat. This is not an ethereal, ghostly existence. This is a robust, bodily resurrection. The life He gives is real, tangible, and hungry. It leads to the dinner table.
56 And her parents were astounded, but He directed them to tell no one what had happened.
The parents are, understandably, astounded. They are filled with ecstatic wonder. But Jesus immediately gives them a command for silence. This is a common feature in the Gospels, often called the "messianic secret." Jesus is not trying to hide His power, but rather to control the narrative. He did not come primarily to be a miracle worker or a political king who would overthrow Rome. He came to go to the cross. Widespread reports of Him raising the dead would have created a kind of popular excitement that would have hindered His true mission. The time for the full proclamation of His identity as the resurrection and the life would come, but only after His own resurrection.
Application
This passage presents us with a picture of our own condition and our only hope. Like the woman, we are unclean because of our sin. We have a condition that drains the life from us, isolates us from God, and which no human remedy can cure. We must come to Jesus, pushing through the distractions of the world, and touch Him by faith. When we do, His cleanness covers our uncleanness, His life overcomes our spiritual death, and He calls us sons and daughters.
And like Jairus, we all face situations that are utterly hopeless. We receive reports that our dearest hopes are dead. The world around us, like the mourners, laughs at the idea of resurrection and tells us to give up. In those moments, the voice of Christ cuts through the noise with a simple command: "Do not be afraid; only believe." We are called to trust His power over the finality of death, whether it is the death of a dream, a relationship, or our own bodies. The same Jesus who took that little girl by the hand and said, "Arise," has conquered the grave once and for all. Because He lives, all who believe in Him will also live. Our faith is not in a distant principle, but in a person who has absolute authority over disease and death. He is the resurrection and the life, and He still gives the command for the resurrected to be fed, grounding our glorious hope in the solid realities of a life restored.