At times, Luke employs a story-within-a-story style in his narrative of Jesus. The most well-known example of this is in chapter 15 where the three lost stories (sheep, coin, sons) are presented within the larger story of His response to the Pharisees and teachers of the law (v. 1-2). The story-within-a-story I want us to look at is found in 8:40-56.
There are two stories here. The larger (frame) story is about a synagogue leader named Jairus. His twelve-year-old daughter is dying. Within this story is the account (nested story) of a woman who has been suffering for twelve years with an issue of blood. This story begins and ends before we find out how the story of Jairus is resolved.
On the surface, both stories are linked by the number twelve. Jairus has a daughter whom he has invested twelve years of his life with, while the woman has invested an equal amount of time trying to rid herself of a daunting medical condition. In addition to this connection, there’s also sharp contrast between Jairus, “a synagogue leader” at the intersection of Jewish society and the woman who’s condition means she is ceremonially unclean and unable to engage with her community.
Beyond this, there is something than makes the connection between these two stronger than any ceremonial uncleanliness outlined in the law. These two stories are both about two people bringing their vulnerabilities to Jesus in faith that He can restore them.
Jairus is a desperate man. He throws himself at the feet of Jesus, pleading with Him to come to his house. His only daughter is at the point of death. I imagine Jairus would rather have been at the point of death himself than to have it happening to his daughter. Most parents would. it’s a noble and sincere wish—but’s it’s also a protective one because where we are most vulnerable is with our children. So in bringing Jesus to his daughter, he is bringing Jesus to one of his greatest vulnerabilities and placing it in His hands.
The same is true for the woman. She has worn herself out trying to find a cure for her disorder. Jesus is her last hope and that is her specific vulnerability. She touches the edge of His garment and her faith brings healing (v. 48). But Jesus calls her out when He demands to know who touched Him. As mentioned, she has no business being out—much less in a crowd like the one around Jesus (v. 42,45). But Jesus insists and she “came trembling . . . in the presence of all the people” and shares her shame and receives His healing pronouncement.
Here then, are two people bringing the most vulnerable parts of their lives to Jesus. Both do it in faith that He can restore. And He does. Luke wants Theophilus (and all his readers) to know that Christ can be completely trusted with the most delicate parts of our lives. He understands us in a way know one else can. “Don’t be afraid; just believe” are His words for all of us.
As we think about what this means to us today, it’s important to understand that being a follower of Jesus doesn’t make our vulnerability magically disappear or go away. It might be God’s will for that to happen in an area of our life (as with Jairus and the woman). Or, it may not be (as it was with John the Baptizer – Luke 7:21-23). It’s also worth keeping in mind that Jesus didn’t take away all of Jairus or the woman’s vulnerabilities—He just removed it from one (very important) area).
So where does that leave us?
While it’s smart to rid ourselves of unnecessary vulnerabilities, it’s silly to think we can do this with everything in our life—or that is God’s will for that to happen. Jesus knew vulnerability and so will we. What we can do is follow His example and give our vulnerabilities to God and refuse to be paralyzed by them (see Philippians 4:4-7). Our Father knows, He cares, and He will work all things together for our good. Why don’t we let Him do that while we focus on giving the day to Him (Philippians 4:8-9)?
And remember, He is Lord of the vulnerable!
