Homily by Fr. Stefan Sapun on the Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, today’s Gospel calls us to reflect deeply on the power of faith, the depth of God’s mercy, and the boundless compassion of Jesus. Here we find two souls, both in desperate need: a father, Jairus, pleading for his daughter’s life, and a woman suffering in silence for twelve long years. In both, we see a profound vulnerability—a moment where human limitations meet divine power.

Imagine Jairus, a man of status, humble himself before Jesus. In the eyes of the world, he might have had power, authority, and respect, but all that fades in the face of his love for his daughter. Love drives him to Jesus’ feet. And isn’t that what true love does? It brings us to our knees. Jairus’s love makes him vulnerable, open, and desperate, yet willing to lay down his pride for the sake of someone he loves dearly.

And then we have the woman—nameless, isolated, and worn down by years of pain. She has tried everything, seen every doctor, spent all her resources, and yet she is still suffering. In her time, she would have been treated as an outcast, considered “unclean.” Imagine the weight of her loneliness, her pain, her quiet desperation. But her heart, though bruised, is still filled with faith. It is faith that moves her to risk everything just to touch the hem of Jesus’ cloak, believing that even the smallest contact with Him could heal her.

In her courage to reach out, we see the hidden strength of the soul that dares to hope against all odds. And when she touches Jesus, He stops and asks, “Who touched me?” He is surrounded by crowds, but her touch is different. It’s the touch of someone reaching out in faith, with a heart longing for God. Jesus knows her touch because it is the cry of her soul, and He answers her unspoken prayer.

He looks at her and calls her “Daughter.” Not “woman,” not “stranger,” but “daughter.” With one word, He restores her not only physically but spiritually. He gives her back her dignity, her worth, and her place in the family of God. The early Fathers saw in this moment the tender love of God, who seeks out each soul, who hears each prayer, and who knows every heartache. “Daughter, your faith has saved you; go in peace.” What peace she must have felt, what joy in knowing she was not alone, that she was seen, loved, and healed by the living God.

And yet, as Jesus speaks to her, a message comes: Jairus’s daughter has died. Imagine Jairus’s heart in that moment. Despair must have washed over him like a wave. “Do not trouble the teacher any longer,” the messenger says. But Jesus turns to him and speaks words that cut through the sorrow: “Do not be afraid; just have faith.”

It is a call to trust in the face of darkness, to believe even when everything seems lost. Jesus walks with Jairus through the grief, through the disbelief, and into the house where mourners are already wailing. To them, death seems final, but Jesus says, “Do not weep; she is not dead, but sleeping.” And when He takes the little girl by the hand and says, “Child, arise,” she returns to life.

Brothers and sisters, in these two stories, Jesus meets us in our need, in our sorrow, and in our desperation. He shows us that faith is the key that opens the door to God’s mercy. Jairus and the woman were willing to step out of their comfort zones, to humble themselves, to reach out in hope. And in return, they found not only healing but the living presence of God.

Each of us carries burdens, some that others see and some hidden deep within. Each of us faces moments of despair, moments when hope seems distant. But Jesus calls to us, as He did to Jairus: “Do not be afraid; just have faith.” Faith does not mean that our path will always be easy, but it does mean that we do not walk it alone. It means that, even in the valley of darkness, we are in the presence of the One who holds all things in His hands.

The early Fathers remind us that Christ is the healer of both body and soul, that He desires to lift us from despair and fill us with hope. He longs for us to reach out to Him, even if it’s only a trembling touch, for He feels every cry of our hearts. And when we come to Him, He does not turn us away. He calls us “daughter,” “son,” reminding us that we belong to Him, that we are cherished, and that His mercy is greater than any sorrow.

Let us then come before Him with open hearts, willing to lay down our burdens, our pride, and our fears. Let us allow Him to take us by the hand and say, “Arise.” And may we trust, as Jairus did, that in His hands, even death is but a sleep, and that with faith, there is no limit to the healing, the hope, and the life that Jesus brings. Amen

See also

October 9 Feast of the Protection of the Mother of God in Brisbane October 5 Bishop Mykola visited the Senior Citizens Club in Brisbane May 19 The Feast of the Descending of the Holy Spirit in Brisbane