Guest contributor, 28 March 2020

One feature of the present saga is its escalating nature. Two weeks ago coronavirus was a significant concern, and we were coughing into our elbows and routinely washing our hands. Now it is a full-blown emergency, and we are scarcely allowed out of our homes. Very rapidly things have moved on. The landscape is constantly shifting, the waters becoming ever more uncharted.

We encounter escalating crises in the Bible. A particularly moving one unfolds in Mark 5. The crisis there is not on a global or even a national scale, but for Jairus and his wife it is deeply traumatic. Initially, their twelve-year-old daughter is very unwell. At this point Jairus goes in search of Jesus. Finding him, he implores Jesus to visit the ailing girl, and he gets the response he desires. Things are looking up for this troubled Capernaum family: the renowned healer from Nazareth is on his way!

Frustratingly, however, Jesus makes slow progress. The needs of another sufferer divert his attention and interrupt the journey. Valuable time ebbs away. And it is then that the crisis suddenly escalates. As Jairus shuffles restlessly, waiting for Jesus to get back on task, messengers approach with dire news. The girl has died.

But the messengers do more than simply share their dreadful tidings. They also give Jairus some gentle advice: ‘Why bother the teacher any more?’ It is a revealing remark. In their view Jesus was an appropriate go-to when the girl was merely ill. Now that she is dead, however, the problem has outgrown Jesus’ capacity to help. The escalation leaves him out of his depth. He might be at home with sickness and disease, but he has nothing to offer a lifeless corpse. There is a line beyond which Jesus is of no further relevance, and this crisis has crossed that line.

That is how they think. And it may be how we think when we find ourselves in an escalating crisis. All our Christian lives, facing troubling situations within the normal range, we have applied the line from the hymn; we have taken ‘it to the Lord in prayer’. And during the early stages of the coronavirus pandemic, that still felt like a reasonable response. But now we are facing a troubling situation outside the normal range. We are in the unfamiliar territory of nationwide lockdown, makeshift hospitals and new police powers. Perhaps we have crossed a line. Perhaps these are circumstances beyond Jesus’ sphere of influence. Perhaps we are on our own now. Why bother the teacher any more?

But we must resist such thoughts. No crisis – neither coronavirus nor any other we might face – can leave Jesus behind. In none of our valleys is he forced to turn back, wishing us the best as we journey on without him, because the way ahead is too dark and too narrow. Whenever an already distressing situation suddenly enters a new, intensified phase, Jesus’ message is always the same: ‘Do not fear, only believe’ (Mk. 5:36). He will be as present and competent in the next stage of the crisis as he was in all the earlier stages.

Actually, all of us, sooner or later, shall find ourselves in a crisis deeper and scarier than any we have previously known. Some illness or accident will befall us, and the situation will escalate until finally the heart has stopped beating, the body has shut down, the cold hand of death has struck. Surely that will be a step too far for Jesus. Surely then we shall have slipped beyond his reach. No! The same almighty voice that somehow reached the ears of Jairus’ dead daughter will on Resurrection Morning reach our ears too. Out of the grave we shall come, into the warm embrace of this Saviour whom even death could not overstretch!

Why bother the teacher any more? That is not a question that need ever enter our minds!