Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

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"The God who gave us life gave us liberty at the same time." These are the profound words of Thomas Jefferson, set to music by Randall Thompson, and sung for us by our choir this morning to celebrate the Fourth of July. These words are a culmination of regard for human life -- all life, every life. "The God who gave us life, gave us liberty at the same time." What courage it took to say such a thing in Jefferson's time! How radical an idea it was! That our freedom is not bestowed upon us by any earthly power, but is "an unalienable right," as Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence, given to us by God at the moment of our birth. Not to have such liberty is not simply to be unfortunate. It is to be denied something that is ours by birth.

We can see a powerful theme of human history in Jefferson's words, these words about life and liberty being inseparable. We look back over the long stretches of time and see how, ever so slowly (and often with great pain), as we came to understand that liberty is a birth right, the blessings of that liberty were extended to include more and more of humanity. In the ancient world a person's liberty (if he had any) was fragile. It depended on his citizenship, his ancestors, his religion, and (most of all) his favor with those in power. In the worlds of Egypt and Greece and Rome, so renown for their accomplishments in other realms, we should remember, it was thought perfectly acceptable to enslave whole nations, to imprison people for years without charges, to convict and execute them without trial, to throw baby girls on the town dump, to work a slave twenty-four seven or to beat him until he died. Women, and slaves, and most men had no rights, no inborn freedom. Whatever liberty they possessed was granted to them by others, and they were lucky to have it.

But Jefferson said liberty comes from God…when we are born. To deny a person's freedom is to thwart God's will. The coming of Jesus of Nazareth, his teachings and his impact upon the world, represents a giant step forward in the fight for freedom. It was obvious, in everything he did and said, that Jesus was not about to accept the view that ordinary peoples' freedom and dignity is bestowed upon them by people of power or of birth. He chose common people for his disciples, and (although there were no women disciples) the fact that women were so obviously important to Jesus, and to the early church, was a radical departure in those days. Jairus (in today's lesson) was a very important person -- president of the synagogue there in Capurnaum. He had a daughter who was dying. And as important as he was he couldn't save his little girl. And he was not too good, not too important to ask Jesus for help. He catches Jesus apparently on the edge of the sea (for Capurnaum is located on the Sea of Galilee), just as he climbs out of the boat. A crowd has already gathered, and Jarius pushes his way through. "Please, please, my little girl is at death's door." You can hear the heartbreak. And Jesus (who somehow managed to love the poor without hating the rich -- a trick we need to learn) sets off to go with Jairus.

But on the way he is interrupted. As the huge crowd jostles him, he says to the disciples, "Someone touched me." And the disciples say, "Duh. What did you expect with all these people pushing and shoving?" And he says, "No. No. I felt power go out of me," and he starts looking around for whoever it was. And all the while Jairus is getting more and more impatient, is starting to panic: "Come on. Come on. There's no time to lose." And then a poor woman, a nobody, throws herself down before Jesus and confesses that she, desperate for help and bankrupted by what she had spent over twelve years on quacks, had just been healed by touching the Master's robe. He tells her it's her faith, not him (certainly not his robe) that has healed her. And everyone rejoices, except Jairus who is beside himself. And then his worse nightmare comes true. Messengers arrive with the dreaded news. "Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any longer?" Words with not even a slender thread of hope. And for a brief moment the bottom falls out of Jairus' life. But Jesus overhears and says to him, "Disregard that. Just believe." And they arrive at Jairus' home, the professional mourners already having begun their work. Jesus puts them all out and raises the young girl from death. "Little girl, I say to thee arise."

There is a lot to talk about in this double-story. Two people here, one important one not, both desperate. Two people who, in their desperation, are willing to take risks they might not otherwise take. Two people of faith. But this morning let's look away from the two and look at Jesus. For in this story we see again that man of infinite compassion -- that one to whom every human life was precious, that man who could never be too busy, or two occupied, or too tired to stop and help someone in need. We see that all through the Gospels, of course, but in today's story it jumps out at us. Also, this is the day when we remember America's founding, and the day when we receive communion. And I think there is a connection here: in Jesus' compassion, in communion, and in the founding fathers' insistence that human beings are endowed by their creator with certain rights. The connection among these things is in the great respect, indeed the deep love, for human life. Not because man is a nifty animal, the astonishing result of natural selection, the accomplisher of so much, but because human beings are children of God, "a little lower than the angels," the Psalmist dares to say. That's why all men and women are important. Jefferson says it in regard to the source of our liberty: it is given to us by God. (If it were given by anyone else, it could be taken away.) Jesus exemplifies that same respect for human life in his words, deeds, and especially in his miracles.

And, at the end, Jesus establishes the most democratic ceremony in the world: holy communion. Here we all come, and kneel beside each other: poor, rich; white, black; young, old; man, woman -- all in need, all hungering for the Word of God which is Jesus. All receiving his body and blood, and no one more than another. The ritual says, "Make us one with Christ (and) one with each other." And communion does that. At this table every person is important. Differences are set aside. We are family…very special to God, and therefore very special to each other. "We share each other's woes, our mutual burdens bear, and often for each other flows a sympathizing tear." Many things divide us, but God's love unites us. If the things that divide are allowed to prevail, we will descend into chaos. If God's love prevails, and every human being is loved and loves, as God loves, then the Kingdom has arrived.