While he was yet speaking, comes some one from the ruler of the synagogue, saying to him, Thy daughter is dead; do not trouble the teacher.
Jesus is still speaking with the woman He has just healed. Then a runner arrives from the house of Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue. The girl has died, he says, so there is no point in troubling the Teacher any longer. The verse sets two things side by side: a delay that cost a father everything, and a human verdict on what Christ can do.
Jesus had stopped on the road, and the stop cost the man who was waiting on Him.
Yet this created a delay which must have tested the urgently pleading Jairus most severely. And while the Lord was still speaking to the healed woman, someone comes from the ruler's house saying, "Your daughter is dead: do not trouble the Teacher." But an answer came to feed his drooping faith: "Fear not; only believe, and she shall be made well."
The words sound considerate. Commentators read them as the crowd's plain common sense about death, and weigh what that politeness was worth.
They expressed what would be the practical, matter-of-fact opinion of the people, if not of the apostles too: "What could the prophet of Nazareth do when death had seized its prey?" Believing He could do nothing, they would trouble Him no further. But, as an old writer quaintly puts it: "Here were more manners than faith — 'Do not trouble the Master.' Unbelief is all for sparing trouble, and thinks every good work tiresome. What nature counts a burden is pleasing and delightful to grace. Is it any trouble for a hungry man to eat? Saviour, it was Your food and drink to do Your Father's will. And His will was that You should carry our griefs and take away our sorrows. Our coming to ask You again and again is our happiness; it cannot be Your trouble."
Behind the polite phrasing, one writer sees an enemy at work.
On this ground of unbelief, Satan soon sends in the verdict of hopelessness: "Why are you still troubling the Teacher?" It all had the mark of Israel, the world, and its worldly state... Now Jesus must act in resurrection or not at all. But He ministers in grace against the schemes of the enemy who suggests it was too late.
Luke does not soften the report. One writer points out that the Greek verb here is the exact one for a settled state of death.
Strictly, apethanen says only that someone died. Still, death is final for the present, so the word can stand for the condition of death, which it implies: if one died, one is dead. But where exact precision is intended, the perfect tense appears — as in Luke 8:49, "Your daughter is dead," tethneken.
That finality is the point. The messenger's reasoning is sound — for man.
But now the news is brought that the child is dead: why trouble the Teacher any more? Death, for man, is the end of hope; and, as far as he is concerned, it is meant to be so. For this very reason, it is here that God can show Himself where man is powerless. "Do not be afraid," says the Lord in answer to such a message; "only believe." Unbelief may claim its right to mourn and weep, unreal as much even of this is; but it is faith alone that can see the glory of God.
Notice, too, who speaks first.
Before Jairus could speak to the Lord, the Lord addressed him: "Fear not; only believe, and she will be well." What limit could be set to the power that answers faith?
One writer reads the scene as a picture of the nation the Lord came to. The case proves worse than anyone thought, and He is more than equal to it.
Such turns out to be the real condition of Israel — not sick only, but dead. But Jesus carried within Himself the secret of resurrection. He is equal to every emergency. He knew both the girl's need and His own mighty power infinitely better than they did. He did not come down to do what others might have done. An angel may stir the pool of Bethesda for a man not too weak to step in at once. The Son gives life to whom He will.
The interruption on the road belongs to the same picture, and reaches into the present.
We may trace here a likeness to the present ways of God. He is still on the way to raise the "daughter of Israel" up to life and blessing. Meanwhile others — and those mainly Gentiles — are giving the touch of faith and getting the blessing.
- Delay — The pause to bless the woman tested Jairus severely, and the news of death came during it.
- Message — "Do not trouble the Teacher" was courtesy without faith. Unbelief thinks every good work is a bother.
- Verdict — Luke's word is precise: she is dead. Death is the end of man's hope, and it was meant to be.
- Reversal — Where man is powerless, God shows Himself. The Lord speaks before the father can, and faith alone sees His glory.
- Picture — Israel is not sick only, but dead. He carries resurrection in Himself, and meanwhile faith's touch draws blessing on the way.
But Jesus, hearing it, answered him saying, Fear not only believe, and she shall be made well.
The child was dead. As far as men could see, that closed the case, and there was no reason to trouble the Teacher further. Jesus does not argue with the news. He gives Jairus something to stand on while it is still ringing in his ears.
The timing of the Lord's answer is part of the mercy. He does not wait for the father to react.
If a gracious Lord had not seen the danger and stopped his rising unbelief, perhaps the father's hope would have perished too. Then no room would have been left for this miracle, because faith, the necessary condition, would have been missing. "As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken, He says to the ruler of the synagogue, Be not afraid, only believe." There is something very gracious in that "as soon as." The Lord spoke at once. He left no time for a thought of unbelief to slip into the father's mind, much less to come out of his lips. Such a thought might have stood in the way of a cure altogether. Instead He filled his mind at once with words of encouragement and hope.
(That line is Mark 5:36 in an older wording. The ESV of Luke 8:50 reads, "Do not fear; only believe.")
The messengers reasoned about death the way everyone does.
Death, for man, is the end of hope; and, as far as he is concerned, it is designed to be so. For that very reason, this is where God can show Himself — where man is powerless. "Do not be afraid," says the Lord in answer to such a message; "only believe." Unbelief may claim its right to mourn and weep, though much even of that is unreal. But faith alone can see the glory of God.
Jairus had already believed one thing about Jesus; the news forced a larger question.
Jairus had been quite confident about His ability to heal; but now, what about death? — that was the great test of his faith, and of the power of Jesus. "Do not fear, only believe," was the word. Faith in Christ will remove the fear of death for us as well as for him.
The command has no object stated. Commentators fill it in from the One speaking.
Jesus, in comforting the poor father, tells him not to fear, but only to believe, and his daughter would be made whole. It is faith in His Person, in the divine power in Him, in the grace that comes to exercise it, that receives joy and deliverance.
Luke's account is noted for putting that Person forward more plainly than the parallel record in Mark.
"Only believe" carries faith in Himself, whose power is always involved in any question about it, and yet is only one element of it. But His Person as such is not so much in the forefront in Mark's Gospel as it is in Luke's.
The verse ends with a promise: "she will be well." The Greek word behind it also covers the woman healed just before this.
It is worth noticing that the word sozo is usually translated "save" in the New Testament. Here it is used in its general sense of deliverance, for the healing of this woman in all three accounts: Matthew 9:21-22; Mark 5:28, 34; Luke 8:48. It is also applied to the restoration of the daughter of Jairus, Mark 5:23; Luke 8:50... In these instances the Greek word is translated "made whole," or "healed."
Jairus had felt the delay. The Lord's answer met him there.
One can imagine the distressed anguish of Jairus in all of this, including his feeling that the Lord had not come quickly enough. How comforting then were the Lord's immediate words, "Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well" (v.50). As in the case of the woman, so here, the solid assurance of the word of the Lord Jesus is wonderful.
Kelly reads the dead child as a picture of Israel.
Such turns out to be the real condition of Israel — not sick only, but dead. But Jesus carried within Himself the secret of resurrection. He is equal to all emergencies. He knew both the girl's need and His own mighty power infinitely better than they did... The sick and now dead girl is the pledge of this. He who tells her father not to fear but to believe will redeem the pledge He gave long ago.
- Bad news comes first. The report from the house treats death as the end of the matter.
- His word comes faster. Jesus speaks the instant He hears, leaving no gap for unbelief to take root in the father's mind.
- His word names the real limit. Death is where man's hope stops. That is exactly where God shows Himself, and faith alone sees His glory.
- His word has an object. "Only believe" is not confidence in general. It is faith in His Person, in His divine power, and in the grace that puts that power to work.
- His word carries a promise. The word behind "she will be well" is the one usually translated "save." What He pledged to one father He still holds out to a whole nation.
And when he came to the house he suffered no one to go in but Peter and John and James and the father of the child and the mother.
A crowd has followed Jesus through the town, and a girl has just died. At the door of her home He stops almost everyone and takes only a few inside — and commentators ask why.
Luke names the three disciples in an order that is his own. One writer notes it, along with the other times this same group was singled out.
"Peter, John and James." This order is found only in Luke — here, and at Luke 9:28 and Acts 1:13. Three times these three were singled out for special occasions: here, at the Transfiguration, and in Gethsemane.
The pattern held through the rest of the Lord's life on earth. The same three saw His glory on the mountain, and the same three were nearest to Him in the garden of Gethsemane on the night He was betrayed.
There were three occasions (all special in character) on which Peter and the two sons of Zebedee were alone privileged to accompany the Lord Jesus. We refer to His journeys to the holy mount, to the house of Jairus, and into the recesses of Gethsemane.
The number was not random. One writer reads it against the legal rule that decided when evidence counted.
The three disciples chosen were enough to give testimony to the fact of the resurrection. Two witnesses were enough to make evidence valid in a court of law, but three made it more than enough.
Outside and inside the house were paid mourners, people whose trade was death. Their presence clashed with the One who was about to undo it.
Jesus did not let the crowd that had followed Him through the town come near the house of Jairus. Another crowd was already filling it. Once inside, the Lord put out the noisy mourners. Their unpleasant trade had made them used to the sight of the dead. They knew the girl was truly dead, and they could not grasp that what was death to man was sleep to the Lord. They were completely out of place where the One who gives life to the dead stood, so He sent them out. He did not even let all the apostles into the room where she lay. He chose only three — Peter, James and John. He raised the widow's son and Lazarus in full view of the public. Here the dead child was indoors, so the scene had to be more private.
This quiet, indoor miracle stands out when set beside the other times Jesus raised the dead. At the town of Nain He stopped a funeral procession in full public view.
The raising of Jairus' daughter was a private matter, with only her parents and three chosen disciples present. The raising of the young man in Luke 7 was, in contrast, a very public matter.
The dividing line at the door was faith. The people Jesus put out had mocked Him.
To people, death destroys every hope. Yet the word of Jesus was, "Do not fear; only believe." To her parents and friends it was death, but to Him it was only sleep. And the very unbelief of those who mourned her shows us that she really was dead, in the ordinary sense of the word. The mocking unbelievers were all put out and only a few who believed saw His work of power.
Several commentators read the scene as a picture of what God will yet do for Israel. One of them sees a day still to come in the small group He took inside.
This is a picture of Israel, a nation dead before God (and the Gentiles are dead too, of course). Yet Jesus encourages them and says, "Only believe, and she will be well." When He came to the house, He allowed no one to go in except Peter and James and John, together with the father and the mother of the girl. Those three are the pillars of the future glory, when He will come forth as the resurrection and the life to the dead nation.
Another writer takes the same picture further, giving the parents their own place in it.
The witness of the three disciples was all that was needed. They stand for the core of the faithful remnant, at the time when Israel comes to spiritual life after the Tribulation. The father and mother stand for the earlier natural relationship — Israel connected with the fathers.
- Chosen. Jesus singled out Peter, John and James three times: here, at the Transfiguration, and in Gethsemane. Only Luke lists them in this order.
- Enough. Two witnesses made evidence valid in law. Three gave more than enough witness to her resurrection.
- Excluded. Jesus put the paid mourners out. They had no place where the One who gives life to the dead was standing.
- Private. He raised the widow's son in front of the public. This girl He raised indoors, with only believing eyes watching.
- Prophetic. Commentators read the small group as a picture of Israel. The three stand for a future faithful remnant, and the parents for the nation's link to the fathers.
And all were weeping and lamenting her. But he said, Do not weep, for she has not died, but sleeps.
A house is loud with mourning for a dead child, and the Lord answers the noise with one word: sleep. Why call a dead girl asleep, and why did that word draw laughter instead of hope?
His first word to the room is "Do not weep." The mourners were hired, and His sharp words hit their performance, not real sorrow.
The Lord was always tender and gracious to people in distress and pain. Yet He rebuked the show of routine grief over the daughter of Jairus. He entered the courtyard of the ruler's house and said to the hired mourners, "Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping." His sharpness struck at their hypocrisy and pretence, for their sympathy was not sincere.
There was also a financial interest in the girl staying dead.
They would have lost their work, so to speak, if she was not dead; and their pay would be gone too. Man had brought all that in. All that was needed was for them to give place, if He was there.
The Lord was not softening the facts.
The Lord is in the presence of death; but He will not allow death to stay in His presence. "The child," He said (and how true it was!), "is not dead but sleeping." In just the same way the Spirit says believers are asleep: "through Jesus, God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep." … Unbelief may weep and wail and make all kinds of commotion, and with little real feeling after all; for it can just as easily laugh Jesus to scorn.
Scripture uses two different words: one for His death, one for His people's.
Let us look closely at the words used here. We can be sure they are exact, as always in Scripture. "Jesus died"; His saints only "fall asleep." With Him it was real death, in all its severity as the judgment on sin. It was the sign and type of a deeper judgment. With them it is only "sleep" — rest and refreshment, from which they rise to a day that never ends and never fades.
Applied to this girl, the word marks out who she was.
He knew that hers was the sleep of the redeemed, not the death of the lost. As later with Lazarus, He came to wake her out of that sleep.
He speaks exactly, but the word has a limit.
It is important to notice that here, as everywhere, sleep is said of the body. It is the right word of faith for death. How dark is the unbelief that twists it, as some do, into making the soul material! He who is the truth speaks of the thing as it really is.
Their laughter was not honest doubt, as an earlier famous laugh in Scripture had been.
His words, "The child is not dead," ran straight against their professional knowledge. They had no faith in Him and no reverence for His words to weigh against His apparent contradiction of the facts. So the Lord's dignified rebuke of their noise only struck them as absurd. Mixed with some spite at His interference, they laughed Him to scorn. It was the laughter of folly, while that of Abraham and Sarah had been the laughter of unbelief.
That scorn was already written into His portrait long before it reached its worst.
Sadly, such ridicule from man belonged to the appointed sufferings of the Messiah. But it was written of Him, "All who see me mock me" (Psalm 22:7). That scripture reached its climax at the cross.
(The older translation of Psalm 22:7 reads "laugh me to scorn," matching the word used of the mourners here.)
One writer reads the scene wider still: the girl pictures Zion, God's city and people.
The spirit of scorn then and there was only a small sample of what is to come. But people like that can have no lasting share in the blessing. … But the word of gracious power will go out from Him. In His eyes the virgin daughter of Zion was not dead but sleeping, and she will rise. And He who at last wakes her from that death-sleep will care for her. He will strengthen her for the great work Zion will then be called to.
- Grief — Much of the wailing He interrupted was hired and hollow. He rebuked the sham, never real sorrow.
- Word — Calling death "sleep" is not a soft word but an exact one. Death cannot stay where He is.
- Sleep — "Jesus died"; His people only fall asleep. He bore death as judgment so that theirs would be rest — and it is the body, not the soul, that sleeps.
- Scorn — They trusted their own expertise over His word and laughed. That same mockery reached its height at the cross.
- Waking — The word that raised her will raise His sleeping people. It will wake the daughter of Zion for the work still ahead.
And they derided him, knowing that she had died.
They had come to wail for a dead girl, and now a stranger tells the room she is only sleeping — so the weeping snaps into laughter. Luke is careful to record why they scorned Him, and that reason raises the real question: what did their certainty prove?
The mockery is not just an ugly detail; it is part of the evidence. These people were not confused about the facts, and their ridicule proves it.
Unbelieving people may be quick to explain this away and say it was only a trance. But the case of Lazarus proves any such idea false... How terrible that the musicians and the people laughed at Him in scorn! They mocked Him. That by itself was evidence that they were fully convinced she was dead.
The crowd in the house was not simply neighbours. Mourning in that world had become a trade, and the noise was being produced by people who were paid to produce it.
In the case of the daughter of Jairus there was a "tumult" with weeping and great wailing; these were probably hired mourners (as is the custom to this day), for "musicians" were also present.
That detail explains the sharpness of the reaction. If the girl was not dead, their engagement ended.
"He said to them, 'Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.' And they laughed at him." They would have lost their work, so to speak, if she was not dead, and their pay would have gone with it. Man had introduced all of that. All that was needed was for them to step aside, since He was there.
Their scorn had a logic. They were the experts on death in that house, and His words cut straight across what they knew.
His words, "The girl is not dead," clashed directly with their professional knowledge. They had no faith in Him and no respect for His words to set against what looked like a contradiction of plain fact... so they laughed at Him in scorn. It was the laughter of folly, as the laughter of Abraham and Sarah was the laughter of disbelief.
This room was a small rehearsal of something far worse that He would meet later.
Sadly, such ridicule from man was part of the sufferings appointed to the Messiah. But it was written of Him, "All who see me mock me" (Psalm 22:7), and this scripture reached its climax at the cross.
(Older Bibles use one phrase in both places: they "laughed him to scorn".)
The mourners heard a plain mistake about the facts. It was no mistake. He was measuring death by Himself.
The Lord Jesus rebuked this useless noise and told them the girl was not dead, but asleep. The people then laughed at Him in scorn. That was folly: they did not see that He had deeper reasons for speaking this way than they understood. To Him death is no more a problem than sleep.
He used the same word of Lazarus later on.
Later on we find the Lord speaking of Lazarus as "sleeping." It was His way of speaking... He raised her from her bed, the young man of Nain from his coffin, and Lazarus from the grave. Each case took the same power — the power of Him who is the Resurrection and the Life.
He did not argue with the scorners. He put them out, and raised the girl without them.
As for all the rest, who were weeping and mourning, He put them out when they mocked His words, "Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping." They believed their senses, not His word; and the scornful will not see the blessing. But He took hold of her hand and called, "Child, arise."
This scene points beyond one house. The mockers in it stand for a wider unbelief, and the sleeping girl for a nation that will be raised.
The spirit of scorn there and then was only a small sample of what is to come, and such people can have no lasting share in the blessing. Many in Israel who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to shame and everlasting contempt, and others, just as certainly, to everlasting life. But the word of gracious power will go out from Him in Whose eyes the virgin daughter of Zion was not dead, but sleeping; and she will arise.
- Knowing. Luke says they knew she was dead. Their certainty is what turns the mockery into proof that a real corpse lay in that house.
- Hired. The wailing was a paid job. If the girl was only sleeping, the work and the pay were gone, so the mourners turned on Him.
- Folly. Their expert knowledge of death collided with His word. They had no faith to set against the facts as they saw them, so scorn was all they had left.
- Sleep. He was not mistaken about her condition. To the One speaking, death is no bigger problem than sleep.
- Outside. He did not debate the scorn; He put it outside. Only those who had not laughed saw Him raise her, and the scornful have no share in the blessing.
But *he*, having turned them all out and taking hold of her hand, cried saying, Child, arise.
The daughter of Jairus, a synagogue leader, has just died, and his house is full of mourners. Jesus clears the room, takes her hand, and calls her — so who is this, that death obeys His voice?
Before He touches her, He puts out the crowd that had laughed at His word. One writer notes what their mockery proved instead.
The group mourning her laughed at Him for the words He had just spoken. That only gave fuller proof of the reality of the miracle. Everyone knew she was dead. If she was raised up after that, everyone had to admit His power to raise the dead. The voice that had woken the widow's son at Nain now woke the daughter of the synagogue ruler at Capernaum.
Another writer notes what the mourners lost by laughing.
He put out everyone else who was weeping and mourning, because they laughed at His saying, "Do not weep; she is not dead but sleeping." They believed their senses, not His word. The scornful will not see the blessing.
Touching a dead body made a person unclean under the law. Here the touch works the other way.
Instead of pollution getting into Him through the touch, power went out from Him to dismiss the power of death and blot out the stain.
He does not stand at a distance. He takes the dead child's hand, and then He speaks.
The Lord acted at once with simple directness. He took the child by the hand — He did the same when He healed Peter's mother-in-law. He then called to her, and Mark records the actual Aramaic words He used, "Talitha cumi."
One writer traces the meaning packed into those two Aramaic words.
The mighty power of His voice of love drives away the darkness of death's night. He uses the words a mother would use to wake her child at the start of a new day — "Talitha Cumi." Inside the greeting "Talitha" is the thought of "freshness"; "Cumi" carries the suggestion of "established," "standing up in strength." Happy indeed are those who hear the voice of the Son of God, and are made to live, and to "walk in newness of life."
He speaks to her, not about her. Luke's next words say her spirit came back. One writer shows how that fits the way Scripture speaks of death.
There was an immediate response from the spirit-world. In Luke's words, "her spirit came again." This matches the general language of Scripture. There, death means the soul and spirit leave the body. Rachel, "as her soul was departing," named her son Ben-oni (Gen. 35:18). Elijah prayed about the dead son of the widow of Zarephath, "Let this child's life come into him again" (1 Kings 17:21). As they stoned Stephen, he said, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit" (Acts 7:59).
No one else could give such a command. Another writer sets Him beside the angel at the pool of Bethesda, where a sick man still had to get himself into the water.
But Jesus carried within Himself the secret of resurrection. He is equal to every emergency, and knew far better than they both the girl's need and His own mighty power. He did not come down to do what others might have done. An angel may stir the pool of Bethesda for a man not too weak to step in at once. The Son gives life to whom He will.
Commentators also read the dead girl as a picture of the whole nation.
This is a picture of Israel, who are dead before God (as are Gentiles too, of course). But Jesus encourages them, and says, "Only believe and she will be made well." When He came to the house, He let in only Peter, James and John, with the father and the mother of the girl. Those three are the pillars of the coming glory, when He will come forth as the resurrection and the life to the dead nation.
- Touch. He lays hold of a dead hand and is not stained by it; power moves outward from Him instead.
- Voice. He calls her with the words a mother uses to wake a sleeping child — strength delivered in tenderness.
- Life. Her spirit returns at His word. Scripture describes death as the spirit leaving the body; here it comes back.
- Faith. Those who trusted their senses laughed, and He put them outside. Those who believed His word stayed and saw the miracle.
- Promise. What He did for one girl in one house He will do for a dead nation — the Son gives life to whom He will.
And her spirit returned, and immediately she rose up; and he commanded [something] to eat to be given to her.
A twelve-year-old girl has died, and the mourners have laughed at Jesus for calling it sleep. Now He takes her hand, and what follows — a returning spirit, an instant recovery, a call for food — tells us who He is.
Luke's wording assumes that something left the girl and had to come back. Commentators call this the Bible's normal way of describing death. They point to other places where the same thing happens:
There was an immediate response from the spirit-world. In Luke's words, "her spirit returned." This matches the general language of Scripture. Death means the soul and spirit leave the body. Rachel, "as her soul was departing," named her son Ben-oni (Genesis 35:18). Elijah prayed about the dead son of the widow of Zarephath, "Let this child's soul come to him again" (1 Kings 17:21; the ESV reads "life" here). Stephen, as he was being stoned, said, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit" (Acts 7:59).
The word "spirit" itself repays attention. One writer sets it beside "soul":
Scripture often uses "spirit" for the spiritual part of man, in contrast with his body. Luke 8:55 says, "Her spirit returned." That confirms the clear distinction between the two… "Soul" is tied to its action in the body, though clearly distinct, and is more connected with life, so it stands for life. "Spirit" is more the active, intelligent consciousness, or the seat of that consciousness, which belongs to the inner man.
Prophets had raised the dead before. Set the two side by side and the difference in method is hard to miss:
Here the Lord's conduct is simple and dignified. It stands in striking contrast with that of the Old Testament prophets when they worked similar miracles. The Lord spoke and acted in His own right. The prophets had to look above and pray hard for a power that was not in themselves… Elijah stretched himself on the child three times and cried to the LORD… The Lord's way was different. He took the child by the hand and said, "Talitha cumi," and at once she got up.
She did not wake weak. Mark adds that she walked, and commentators read that as proof the work was finished in a moment:
The body of Jairus' daughter came back to life and rose up at once. She was strengthened as well as made alive, for she was able to walk about. Mark records this with the detail typical of his style. She was twelve years old, so walking was natural for her at that age. But here her walking showed that her restoration was as complete as it was immediate.
The command about food is easy to pass over. One writer asks what it pictures:
This is more than His tenderness. He commanded that "something should be given her to eat." What does that mean, if we take it out of the picture and apply it? He is the One who gives life, and He is the One who provides for the sustaining of the life He gives. What is the something? Shall I tell you? Christ. Not doctrines, not theories, not notions, not thoughts, not opinions; Christ — that is the "something." If you have been made alive by Him, He commands that something should be given you to eat. Nothing can sustain or nourish or uphold the soul but Christ.
Notice, too, who was told to fetch the food:
The Lord, having restored the girl's life by His own inherent power, directed the parents to give her food. The restored life needed the usual means of support. They could supply that themselves, so no miracle was needed. The Lord expects us to do what we can do ourselves. He uses His own might only where we are helpless.
One writer sees in this sleeping girl a picture of the nation of Israel, and reads her rising as a pledge of what is still to come:
In His eyes the virgin daughter of Zion was not dead, but sleeping. The word of gracious power will go out from Him, and she will arise. And He who at last wakes her from that death-sleep will care for her. He will strengthen her for the great work to which Zion will then be called. It was, however, only a passing act of power then; the time had not yet come for more.
- Word. He acted in His own right — no stretching over the body, no crying to heaven, only a hand and a call.
- Spirit. What returned had first departed. Scripture treats death as the spirit leaving the body — not the person ending.
- Life. She rose instantly and walked, showing the restoration was complete, not gradual.
- Food. The One who gives life provides for its sustaining, and the something given is Christ Himself.
- Hands. He raised her; her parents fed her — He does what only He can, and expects us to do what we can.
And her parents were amazed; but he enjoined them to tell no one what had happened.
A dead girl is alive again, and her parents can only stare. Then the Lord tells them to say nothing about it.
One writer reads the parents' amazement as paralysis: they were too overwhelmed to act. He then points to the one Person in the room still thinking about what the girl needed.
No wonder her parents were astonished at that word of power, so bewildered that they seemed unable to act. Or was it that, in their joy at receiving their only child alive again, they forgot everything else? He did not forget. He knew her needs and cared for them — and she was only a girl! Did He ever use His power without revealing His heart? He told them to give her something to eat. In her wonder and joy, even the mother did not realise that the child needed food. But He did. He was more thoughtful for her than her own mother.
The command runs against what we expect from someone with such power. One writer explains what the Lord was working for instead.
The charge "to tell no one what had happened" was completely contrary to all human ideas. People love publicity, but the Lord did not. He worked to make God known. Only faith understood His works, and His works confirmed that faith.
So what exactly did the charge forbid? Jairus, the girl's father, was a public figure. One writer weighs who the Lord spoke to, and what He told them not to do.
The Lord charged them — presumably those present in the room where the girl was — that no one should know this. The instruction seems to mean that they were not to set out to spread the news of the miracle. It could not mean that the child's raising must stay a secret. Jairus was a public figure, and the news that his dead daughter had come back to life could hardly stay hidden.
One commentator ties the silence to how the nation had received the Lord Himself.
But this was only a passing act of power at that time. The moment for more had not yet come, and Jesus charged them to tell no one what had happened. If they would not receive Him, and refused His word, there was no point in publishing His power.
Another writer points to a case earlier in the chapter where the Lord gave the opposite order:
Unlike the case of the man of Gadara (v.39), the Lord told the people here not to report the matter to others. The Lord wanted no mere awakening of the curiosity of the crowds.
So who was this miracle for? One writer answers by comparing the few in the room with the crowd outside.
But Jesus does not seek the crowd here. This display of power is only for the comfort of those who feel their need of it, and for the faith of those who are truly attached to Him. The crowd know that the girl is dead. They mourn for her, and do not understand the power of God that can raise her up. Jesus gives back to her parents the child whose life He had restored. So it will be with the Jews at the end, while most around them still do not believe.
Commentators differ on why He asked for silence. Some tie it to the nation's rejection of Him. Others point to the gap between faith and mere curiosity.
- Power — one word from the Lord called a dead child back, and her parents could only stand there amazed, too overwhelmed to act.
- Heart — He never used His power without showing His care. He thought of the girl's next meal when even her mother did not.
- Silence — people love publicity, but He told the parents to tell no one. He worked to make God known, and only faith understood His works.
- Scope — a leading family could never hide such news. He was not asking them to bury the fact, but to keep from spreading it.
- Timing — the nation had refused Him, so publishing His power was pointless. This raising was for the few who believed, and it points to what He will do for the Jews at the end.