Luke 8:54-56

But he took her by the hand and called out, “Child, get up!” Her spirit returned, and she got up at once. Then he directed them to give her something to eat. Her parents were astounded; but he ordered them to tell no one what had happened.

I have no idea why Jesus ordered them to tell no one about what had just happened. I really don’t. There are a variety of theories. So many, in fact, that many of them have been grouped together and collectively called “the messianic secret.”

Perhaps, scholars have wondered, Jesus’ identity cannot be known until he reaches Jerusalem and the cross. Perhaps he does not want the attention and fame of such a miracle to impede his progress there. Perhaps he does not want to be misunderstood, or perhaps he fears being forced into a role he is not prepared to accept. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Truth be told, none of us really knows. And, to be honest, at this moment – when a child has been returned to life and to her parents – I don’t know that it particularly matters.

There is much, of course, that we do not understand about the life of faith, let alone the mysteries of God. Yet in those moments where we experience God’s presence and taste God’s abundant life, it doesn’t matter. Yes, there are times – especially times of tragedy or loss – when we deeply want to know why, to understand, to receive the solace of being able to fit our painful experience into a larger explanatory narrative. But whether we rejoice or mourn, some things – and the experience of God’s presence or absence is most surely among them – are simply beyond us.

So, I suspect, it was with Jairus, his wife and daughter, and those that gathered around them that day.

Prayer: Dear God, we do not, indeed cannot, understand your ways in the world. Let us then only rejoice with each other in times of gladness and comfort each other in times of loss, sensing your presence in both. In Jesus’ name, Amen.