I almost missed church here at Grace last Sunday morning. My close friend who is a pastor in Mamaroneck, was hospitalized on Saturday. He knew that Elizabeth would be preaching here at Grace on Father's Day, so he asked if I could preach at St. John's. I shared with my family how I briefly considered it, but had to say no because we were receiving new members at Grace. No sooner were the words out of my mouth when my daughter said, "Oh, it didn't matter that all your kids and grandkids were in church for Father's Day?" No sooner were the words out of her mouth, she apologized. I knew she had been only teasing - but it did strum a chord on my heartstrings! Like I do her brothers, I love Sara more than life itself. And Sara knows how to get to her Daddy. But you know what? Sara was right. My friend Marv had a need and I would have been there - and my rationale for refusal had to do with my job: we were receiving new members.

And how I relate to the story of Jairus! Not only because Jairus is daddy to a daughter, but Jairus is a pastor - he is leader of the synagogue. Without doubt over the years he had missed a soccer game or two in which his daughter played goalie. A sixth grade concert or two when his daughter played first violin. Did she sometimes feel second fiddle to her daddy's job? Over the years, there surely were meetings at the synagogue or a family in crisis - occasions which meant Jairus had to be away from his own family; his own daughter.

Young people, maybe you relate to my kids, Chris, Mike and Sara - wondering why Daddy was at church rather than a meet-the-parent night or a Cub Scout award ceremony. Parents - maybe you relate to Jairus as you missed a family function for whatever the reason.

I don't think there is anything in all the world that gets our attention quicker than a child who needs our help. The sharp crack of thunder ... the sudden sound of a police siren ... the sonic boom of a Navy jet - these can grab our attention: but nothing makes the hair on the back of neck stand up quicker than a child who needs our help. For Jairus, this is one of those times. His daughter needs help, and Jairus is helpless.

I have a very vivid memory of that very helpless feeling. It took place over thirty years ago, but it's as clear as if it happened yesterday. Our driveway on Long Island had only a gentle slope to it, but two-year-old Michael was on his big wheel picking up speed and I heard my wife scream and I turned and saw a car approaching. Michael's tiny legs were off the pedals and he was out of control as he went into the street and I heard the screech of brakes and the lady swerved ... and all was well. Let me tell you, I've earned every gray hair on this head of mine. Maybe some of you parents have had such experiences. Truly, truly I say unto you: I don't think there is anything in all the world that gets our attention quicker than a child who needs our help. A child's well-being is really everybody's business. It takes a village to raise and care for our young. In my memory bank, that village includes an alert driver with quick reflexes and I owe her the world! Now Michael has a daughter - he'll earn his own gray hair too.

The fishing boat in which Jesus is riding has just dropped anchor at Capernaum. His reputation had preceded the boat and a large crowd jostles to greet him. But one man stands out. He stands out - but he is prostrate at the feet of Jesus. Repeatedly (the Bible emphasizes: repeatedly) repeatedly Jairus begs Jesus, "My little daughter is at the point of death. Come ... so that she may be made well, and live." My own take on the begging is this: Jesus needs only to know there is a child at risk. But the only thing a helpless Jairus can do is to beg. And this he does. Repeatedly. We can relate. Whatever was going on in his professional life took a back seat to his daughter's life-on-the-line. If ever in her twelve brief years Jairus had not been attentive, now with every fiber of his being, he is focused upon his daughter. Yes, we can relate.

Okay - a daughter in need and Jesus quickly follows a frantic father. I was at Northern Westchester Hospital the other day and I heard over the intercom, Code Blue. It's my understanding that Code Blue means a patient needs immediate care - and this was Code Blue time for the daughter of Jairus. Time is of the essence. There can be no delay. Jairus understands this and we assume, Jesus understands this. I'll say it again: we assume Jesus understands the need for speed; the case to race.

Yet suddenly, Jesus stops. The world of Jairus is spinning out of control like a big wheel driven by a little child - and Jesus stops. "Who touched my clothes?" "Excuse me. Say what?" "Who touched my clothes?" It turns out some anonymous woman in the crowd touched the fringe of the garment of Jesus. "Who touched my clothes?" A woman who had been ill for twelve years; she had been sick since the day the daughter of Jairus was born. One was twelve years sick and the other twelve years old: "Who touched my clothes?" And Jesus heals her.

Now - for the sake of argument, let's say this woman is about the same age of Jesus. She can't be much younger. She could be much older. My point? The words of Jesus. He calls her, "Daughter." Let me emphasize this: Jesus, who is God in the flesh - calls this anonymous woman, "Daughter." One person has written, "In that instant she went from 'nobody to somebody to everybody.'"

"Daughter, your faith has made you well." And the words are barely out of his mouth, when people arrive to tell Jairus the news, "Your daughter is dead." What a juxtaposition! "Daughter, your faith has made you well." "Jairus, your daughter is dead." This is a tale of two daughters. This is the best of times and the worst of times.

And then, much to the relief of Jairus, Jesus tells him, "Do not fear, only believe." Now that's a pretty tall order, but Jesus backs up his words when finally ("Finally," rejoices Jairus) they reach the bedside of his little girl. In the presence of her parents Jesus says, in plain English, Talitha cum." Actually, the plain English is this: "Little girl, get up." And she does. Two daughters are ill; two daughters are healed - and those two daughters are you and me.

Look at it this way: Two sets of parents this morning ... two children. Each parent cares as deeply for their child, as deeply as Jairus cares for his. Each cares so much for their children that they bring them this morning to Jesus; they bring them to the waters of Baptism. Maya - what a beautiful name, is coming to the font. Hudson. Hudson coming to our water! And Jesus calls her, "Maya, my Daughter." And Jesus claims him, "Hudson, my Son." Just as Jesus claimed, through Baptism, you and me. All of us were on the road from dust to dust. Until Jesus encountered us. Maybe like that woman, twelve years sick, we reached out to Jesus in despair. Maybe like the daughter of Jairus, someone believed initially on our behalf. Either way - we are daughters. We are sons. We are saved!

I like the way the text concludes, as Jesus tells the young girl's parents, "Give her something to eat." Very practical indeed. At this moment, all I can offer is food for thought: "We we are daughters. We are sons. We are saved!" Chew on that for awhile.