In Sunday’s service, I stated a relatively simple but heavy truth that the Church almost always grows (in both width & depth) in times of oppression…but in prosperity, not so much. This has been played out and proven over history, and probably, our own lives.

In the book of Luke (8:41-42), “a man named Jairus, a leader of the local synagogue, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with Him to come home with him. His only daughter, who was about 12 years old, was dying.”

It’s not hard to vividly picture this scene in your head. He “came and fell,” “pleading.” His daughter is dying and he’s broken-hearted and broken, he’s poor in spirit. There’s nothing left to do, so he comes to a certain Rabbi, of whom he’s heard rumors. Who knows if they’re true, but he’s at the end of his rope. Imagine his face and footsteps. I don’t think he ran – maybe he did, but the word ‘fell’ brings images of heavy feet and slumped shoulders to me, of barely getting to Jesus before collapsing under the weight of such intense loss. He pleads, begs, cries, wails. “Help her, Rabbi, please help her!!” It’s 2 verses that are absolutely, totally devastating.

Now, maybe Jairus was always following Jesus, maybe he was one of the first followers. Maybe he knew Jesus, maybe he believed. But maybe not, and that’s what I imagine. If he knew him, believed, he would have come sooner. The Jairus in my head was skeptical, fell right into line with the Jewish teachers and Pharisees in his circle. Or maybe, even, he was decidedly not a believer. Instead, maybe he thought this Rabbi was a dangerous threat to his God and his religion.

But pain and suffering, oppression, lead us into some very uncomfortable spaces, right? We say & do things we might never say & do. We’re much more open minded, less likely to close any doors, more likely to open already closed doors. Jesus is a trouble-maker, but when her daughter is dying, what if it’s true??? What can it hurt?

Jairus asks. He seeks, He knocks. He cries out in his broken-ness. And God answers. When Israel is in Egypt and cries out, God answers.

When things are great, clicking along, the bills are paid, the sun is shining, we have a great tendency to forget. When we’re being promoted at work, we think we deserve it, we’ve earned it, we’re capable and strong. We know what to do. But when we’re fired, we’re lost, afraid, weak, and have no idea what to do or where to go. When we cry out for Help, God is far more apt to rescue us, than when we think we’re in control and so awesome we could never need/use any help from anyone.

To tell you the truth, as I’m thinking about it, Levi (Matthew) is a much more exceptional story. He was a guy who had a good job, power, lots of money, and when Jesus said, “Follow me,” he left that all behind. We’re probably way more Jairus than Levi.

Today is a gorgeous day, I slept great last night, and now I feel good and got a bunch done in the yard and my closet. I ate terrific pizza with my son for lunch. The Angel will be home in a minute. Today is a very good day. And I didn’t think of God too much, today. I said Thank You a few times, fleeting and quick. Sunday, I had a headache that woke me up out of sleep in the middle of the night, ibuprofen didn’t help, it was agony, and I spent hours in prayer.

The idea is that, whether we have everything or nothing, whether it’s sunny or sleeting, whether our bank accounts are overflowing or empty, whether our hearts are overflowing or empty, God is still God and loves us exactly the same. I bet this is the “secret” Paul talked about, except it’s not really a secret at all, it’s the secret practice of turning our hearts toward Jesus not only on Saturday, when it hurts, but also on Sunday, when we’re healed.