The Red Flower - June 28, 2009
THE RED FLOWER
Mark 5:21-43
June 28, 2009
Three seminary students sought permission to plant a garden. Their school was located in the downtown area of a large metropolitan city. There wasn’t much of a backyard. Actually, it was a stone-covered dirt parking lot with no extra space. However, they carefully planned their garden, taking into account the area that received optimal sunshine.
The three of them approached the superior with their plan for a small area to plant some squash, tomatoes and cucumbers. The only real cost involved was to rent a rake, a pick-ax and a hoe. However, getting the superior’s permission would still be difficult. None of them who were involved with this garden project will ever forget his response to their request. With a slightly bored tilting of his head he glanced at them, and without even a trace of optimism, he replied: “You’re wasting your time. Nothing will grow there!
But go ahead, if you still want to.”
They had received permission – so what if it wasn’t enthusiastic. They rented tools. They raked four inches of stones into neat walls outlining the garden. Then they hoisted the pick-ax and struck what must have been a former refuse area. A gardener’s dream – dark, composted, fertile soil just sitting there waiting to be discovered. They looked at each other with broad grins and repeated in unison, “Nothing will grow there.”
As you might have surmised by now, things did grow there, in their garden. In fact, twice they re-staked the tomatoes, topping them off, finally, when they were seven feet tall. They seemed more like tomato trees than plants. Now whenever those seminarians get together, the story of their little garden is retold. “Nothing will ever grow there!”
Isn’t it amazing how much can be learned from planting a garden – about life, about people? How often have you heard it said – or even said it yourself – about another person, or about a place, or about a situation, that nothing will ever grow there? Perhaps all that is needed is someone who doesn’t give up too easily or too soon . . . someone who will rake away some of the stones that are covering up the rich, fertile soil of life, just waiting to be discovered.
The philosophy of athletes is a worthy one to adopt for ourselves. Yogi Berea summed it up in his own eminently wise yet seemingly foolish way: “It ain’t over till it’s over.” It is a reminder that, however bleak the prospects may seem, there is always hope. The important thing is not to give up too soon. Christian philosophy goes even further. It might be put this way: “It’s not over even when it’s over.” That is to say that no matter what life hurls at us, we will still be victors, for we are followers of one whom even death could not defeat.
This morning’s gospel lesson focuses on a sad scene that prompts most who are present to see no hope. There are two female characters with health problems. The twelve-year-old daughter of Jairus is dying, in fact, she is just minutes from death. Her father is desperate to save her. A woman has been hemorrhaging for twelve years, and for all practical purposes, the bleeding of this woman renders her as good as dead in first-century Jewish culture. She desperately needs a cure. What hope can there be for them? It seems clear that they are too far-gone for healing and restoration. Surely it is too late. But they are not giving up.
Faith plays a crucial role in the outcome of their stories. For different reasons the faith of a frightened father and the faith of a despondent woman bring them both to Jesus Christ. In the interaction between Jesus, Jairus, his dying daughter, and the bleeding woman, we learn the true depth and extent of Jesus’ power. As the faith of the woman leads her to touch Jesus’ garment, we find that his power is so great that it brings healing even when Jesus himself is not fully cognizant of its operation. As the faith of the father (and, in turn, mother) leads him to ask Jesus to heal his daughter, we find that even when the little girl dies, she is not beyond Jesus’ power to restore her.
And as their stories unfold, we not only find that Jesus is Lord over sickness and death, but we also learn the meaning of faith. Genuine faith means recognition, trust and risk. Both Jairus and the woman with the hemorrhage make their way to Jesus. Having heard of Jesus and finding themselves helplessly in need, they recognize in Jesus the power of God that can and will bring healing and wholeness. Moreover, beyond bare recognition, both Jairus and the woman take action in relation to Jesus, which shows their hopes flower into trust. They turn to Jesus, and in different ways they do what they believe is necessary to bring the power they have perceived to bear on the problems that are marring their lives and the lives of loved ones. Faith is active, it is not only recognition or intellectual assent, it directs the course of our lives toward the one whom we say we recognize as having the power necessary to restore us to wholeness.
Furthermore, faith takes chances. Jairus was a person of stature, and his role as a religious leader could have set him at odds with Jesus, but instead Jairus turns to Jesus, risking the health of his daughter and his own relations with other religious leaders who are inclined to say Jesus’ power comes from the devil. Similarly, the woman crosses the boundaries of acceptable behavior and makes her way through a pressing crowd secretly to touch Jesus’ garment. If she were found out, the reaction of the crowd would be negative; for as she came into contact with them, her condition would defile them, as it would Jesus, whom she intended to touch. Yet she risks real disapproval, even danger, and makes her way to Jesus.
Because of their faith, we see Jesus as one who clearly has the power to heal and to restore life. His power is astonishing. He knows, even amidst a pressing throng, when he is touched by one calling forth his healing power. In the face of doubts and mocking laughter, Jesus raises the little girl; and so, he astonishes her family and his own disciples with a display of his power over death. In Jesus we see the power of God at work in the world for wholeness and life.
By now you’re probably wondering, but what does all this have to do with a red flower? The red flower is a simple little story that tells us of an occasion when an “it ain’t over till it’s over” attitude, and faith – as recognition, trust and risk – and the presence and power of God come together in the midst of a seemingly common, ordinary event of life – the kind we’re most likely to experience.
The Reverend Grayson Atha was walking along Montgomery Road early one summer Sunday when he noticed a red flower on the sidewalk. Apparently, it had been pulled from the earth by an animal or human being and left on the sidewalk to die. Although the sun was barely up, the leaves were already beginning to wilt, and the dirt around the few strands of roots was rapidly drying. In a short time, the red flower would be dead, and perhaps even now it was beyond help.
He picked up the red flower, carried it to the sanctuary, and laid it on the altar. During the Children’s Moment in the worship service, he explained where he had found the red flower and that it would die unless together they did something. So there in the worship service, they took some good earth, put it around the roots, propped up the flower with a strong stick, and watered it well. He warned the children that even with this effort, the flower still might not make it; but even if it should die, they would know they had made an effort to save its life, even if someone had tried to harm it.
Of course, the red flower fell off, and the plant had to be trimmed back considerably. Even at that, more leaves continued to die and fall. From time to time, the plant would be brought back into the sanctuary and the children would be given a progress report. When more of the leaves died and fell, none of them said, “Let’s give up.” There seemed always to be hope that the red flower would make it and new life would show.
All winter it was watered and cared for, and then new leaves appeared and grew. Then one day, church secretary Lela Farmer came into the pastor’s office and said, “Guess what, Grayson! There’s a new red flower. It’s blooming.”
The next Sunday, that red flower was on the altar, and the children joined in the celebration that this plant, which had been left for dead, had been brought back to life through their efforts and care.
Why does the church exist? To grow red flowers. At its best, it never looks at other human beings and says they are too far-gone. It picks them up and does what it can to restore life and hope. And sometimes, an almost dead red flower blooms again.