What Faith Holds

What Faith Holds

The 24^th Sunday after Trinity – 11/2/2025

Matthew 9:18-26

Rev. Dr. Christopher W. Brademeyer

That portion of God’s Holy Word for consideration this morning is our lesson from the Holy Gospel according to St. Matthew in the ninth chapter with special emphasis on verse twenty-two which reads as follows:

“Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, ‘Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.’ And instantly the woman was made well.”[1]

Thus far the Scriptures.

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Faith is not a vague feeling, a general notion that everything will turn out all right. Faith is not a spiritual pep talk we give ourselves when life gets hard. Faith is confidence in a Person, specifically in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who has come into the world to destroy sin, death, and the devil.

Faith always has an object, and the proper object is Christ and Him alone. Christian, saving faith clings to Him, not because we always understand how He will help, but because we know He can and will. This is what is shown to us in today’s Gospel lesson. Two very different people, from opposite ends of society, are driven by desperate need to the same Lord. One is an important synagogue ruler. The other is an unclean, forgotten woman. Both find their hope in Jesus, and both receive life from Him.

Desperation Drives Faith to Christ

Matthew tells us first of a ruler who came and knelt before Jesus. Mark and Luke record his name, Jairus. All three related that he was a leader of the synagogue. No doubt he was a respected man, accustomed to being in control, and to getting answers. Yet now, his little girl is lying dead. No amount of money, learning, or influence can shield a parent from such heartbreak. Imagine that small house full of wailing, neighbors gathering, the frantic rush to find help. And then comes the realization that all the help in the world is utterly powerless here. When death enters the room, everything else falls silent. The human race, for all its power and progress, still cannot conquer the grave.

So Jairus does what only faith can do: he falls down before Jesus in desperate homage. He doesn’t offer logic or  try to convince the Lord by argument. He simply pleads, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay Your hand on her, and she will live.” What an incredible confession! He doesn’t ask Jesus merely to comfort him; he asks Him to do the impossible. He believes that a single touch from this Man can break the final barrier. And Jesus rises and goes with him immediately. No questions. No hesitation. The compassion of God always moves Him toward human suffering.

But before they arrive at the ruler’s house, another story unfolds. The crowd on the way there is thick. The noise and commotion are great. And somewhere behind Jesus walks a woman, weak and pale, who has been bleeding for twelve years.

Twelve years is a long time, longer than many children had been alive. Twelve years of constant uncleanness according to the Law of Moses. She couldn’t participate in the sacrifices at the temple. She couldn’t embrace her family without rendering them unclean. She lived carrying a burden of shame and hopelessness.

St. Mark tells us that she had spent everything on doctors and only grew worse. But she’s heard about Jesus. And in the flickering light of faith, she dares to believe: “If I only touch His garment, I will be made well.” So she pushes through the crowd and touches the fringe of His robe.

Immediately she feels in her body that she is healed. But Jesus will not let the moment pass quietly. He turns and sees her. He draws her out of hiding, not to embarrass her, but to restore her. He says, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.”  Literally, “your faith has saved you.”

She came trembling; she leaves rejoicing. She came hoping for a secret healing; she departs publicly named as a child of God when Jesus called her a “daughter.”

Notice how personal the Lord’s compassion is. He doesn’t merely dispense power like He was a vending machine of miracles. He gives Himself. He wants her to know that her healing comes not from magic in His garment, but from trust in His mercy.

The ruler and the woman couldn’t be more different. One was a respected leader, a man of status. The other was an outcast, ritually unclean. One approached Jesus publicly and boldly. The other approached secretly and fearfully. But faith is not measured by how it looks from the outside or some interior quality. Faith is measured by the ability of its object, what it holds on to, and both looked to Jesus. Sometimes faith kneels and cries out, “Lord, help me!” Sometimes faith can only whisper, “If I can just touch Him.” Sometimes faith is strong and confident. Other times it trembles and hides. But all true faith, however small or weak, lays hold of the same Christ, and He never turns it away.

The Power of Christ Over Death

And so they continued on to the ruler’s house. The professional mourners had arrived; flute players droned their dirge and women wept loudly. It was the custom of the day to hire professional mourners; the louder the wailing, the greater the grief. It is similar to how some people feel very strongly that there should be a very ornate casket or a lot of flowers at the funeral to express their grief and loss.

Jesus stepped into the noise of grief and said something that sounded utterly ridiculous to everyone there: “Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And those mourners laughed! They laughed at Him, the Lord of Life. This was the laughter of unbelief, the laughter of a scoffing world that trusts its own eyes more than God’s Word. But Jesus sees death differently. For Him, death is not final. For those who belong to Him, death is but a sleep, and sleep will lead to waking.

He sent the crowd outside. He took the girl’s hand, a gesture that would have made any other Jew ceremonially unclean, and simply said, “Little girl, arise.” And she did. Life flooded back into her. Color returned to her cheeks. She sat up and began to walk around. Matthew reports it with almost shocking simplicity: “the girl arose.” When the Creator of life speaks, even death has no choice but to obey.

Both miracles share a common double theme of uncleanness and death. The bleeding woman was unclean. The dead girl was the ultimate picture of uncleanness, having been taken by death itself. But when Jesus touched them, He was not defiled; they were instead cleansed. When holiness meets uncleanness, holiness wins. When Life meets death, Life wins. This is the Gospel in its most basic and profound application. The Son of God came into our fallen world, took our uncleanness upon Himself, bore our sin to the cross, and in so doing, swallowed up death forever.

As St. Paul says, “He who knew no sin became sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.”[2]

This is the great exchange of the Gospel; our sin for His righteousness, our death for His life, our uncleanness for His purity.

Faith Still Reaches Out Today

Dear Saints in Christ, this is not just ancient history. Christ still reaches out to us today. You and I may not face the same outward circumstances, but we know the same need. We know the uncleanness of sin that clings to our conscience. We know the power of death that hovers over every home and hospital room. We know what it is to feel helpless and unworthy.

And in the midst of this world of woes, the same Jesus passes by in His Word and Sacraments, giving you something to hold in faith. When you come to the Lord’s Supper, you come like that woman, stretching out trembling hands to touch Him and He gives you more than healing. He gives you His very body and blood, the medicine of immortality. When you come to the font, you are joined to Him who conquered death, buried with Him and raised with Him. When you hear His absolution spoken, He turns and says to you, “Take heart, son; take heart, daughter; your faith has saved you.” Faith is not a one-time thing, not a single emotional decision or moment of strength. It is a continual, daily clinging to the promises of God in His Son Jesus Christ.

The raising of Jairus’ daughter is a foretaste of Easter morning. That day was not the last time Jesus took a lifeless hand and gave it life again. On the third day after His crucifixion, the Father raised Him from the tomb. And because Christ lives, death is now nothing more than sleep for those who are in Him. When you stand at a graveside and hear the dirt fall on the coffin lid, it feels final, but in Christ, it is not. The body rests in the grave, this is true. But the soul is with the Lord. And one day, when the trumpet sounds, the same Lord will speak again, and every grave will yield up its dead. The same voice that said, “Little girl, arise,” will call your name and you will rise. This is why Christians can mourn and still have hope.[3] We know that our Redeemer lives, and that in our flesh we shall see God.[4]

Until that day, the world will continue to laugh at Christ’s promises, just as the mourners laughed at Him. The world says, “Death is final. Sin is inevitable. Forgiveness is a fantasy.” But faith sees what eyes of flesh cannot. Faith looks beyond the grave to the open tomb. Faith looks beyond guilt to the cross where it was all taken away. Faith looks beyond weakness to the One whose strength is made perfect in weakness. Faith is not blind optimism; it is trust in the Word of the One who cannot lie.

Conclusion

Perhaps today you feel more like that woman, isolated, weary, ashamed, quietly bleeding out from some wound no one else sees. Or perhaps you are like that father, helpless before the loss or suffering of someone you love. Wherever you are, word of Christ is the same. So bring your need, your grief, your guilt. You do not have to have perfect words or a heroic faith. Simply look to Christ, trust in Him. Even a trembling touch is enough, for the power lies not in your grasp, but in His grace.

He will not turn you away. He will speak peace to you. He will make you clean. He will give you life.

Faith holds onto Christ, but never forget that Christ first reached out to you. He reached out His hands to bless, to heal, and finally to be nailed to the cross. Those same hands now reach out from the altar, from the font, in His Word, offering the same gifts of forgiveness and life. Hear His voice of promise, “Take heart, child. Your faith has saved you.” Know that the One who conquered death for a ruler’s daughter and healed a suffering woman has not changed in His mercy toward sinners who suffer in their needs. He still lives and reigns for you as the crucified, forgiving Lord. And on the Last Day, when He takes your hand and says, “Arise,” death itself will finish giving way to everlasting life.

In the holy Name of + Jesus. Amen.

The peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

[1] Matthew 9:22 English Standard Version. All further quotations from the Holy Scriptures are from the ESV.

[2] 2 Corinthians 5:21

[3] 1 Thessalonians 4:13

[4] Job 19:25