Talitha Cumi (Little girl, arise”) – Matthew 9: 21-26

Last week, we discussed the dire need and deep faith of a father and a woman, both of whom Jesus called “daughter.” Matthew’s Gospel gives a condensed version of these events; for the full picture, you must also look at Mark 5 and Luke 8. The father, a synagogue ruler named Jairus, went against his religious peers and their beliefs to approach Jesus. Leaving all his pride and prestige behind, he fell at Jesus’s feet and earnestly pleaded with him. What made him do this? His only daughter was dying. Jesus immediately got up and followed him.

As they went, it was like an ambulance speeding through a crowded street—a true emergency. But a huge crowd was pressing against Jesus, and this created a hindrance. It was here that we see another woman with a dire need and great faith. She had been suffering from a bleeding problem for twelve years. In the Jewish setting, this was considered one of the worst conditions, second only to leprosy, because she was deemed unclean and defiled. Whatever she touched, or wherever she sat, became unclean. Anyone who touched her became unclean. She was likely divorced by her husband and ostracized from society, not allowed in the temple or synagogue.

This was a pitiable woman who had spent a lot of money on doctors who promised to heal her. She lost all her money, even her livelihood. And instead of getting better, her condition got worse. She had been experiencing this for twelve long years. She was a sad, social outcast who had spent all she had on doctors and had no money for food. Her condition was so bad that she may not have even been able to walk properly, only drag herself, which is why she only managed to touch the hem of Jesus’s garment.

Despite her terrible need, she also had great faith. She had heard about Jesus’s miracles and knew he was unlike the Pharisees, as he touched and accepted unclean sinners. She came to Christ, believing that if she just touched the hem of his garment, she would be healed. The pressing crowd gave her the boldness to go and try to steal a miracle without him noticing. After all, what woman would come out in public and openly discuss such a private issue in front of a large crowd? So, in her hopeless situation, she came. We have seen in detail the pitiful account of these two people, their need, and their faith. Now, let us look at the amazing healing of these two people.


The Healing of the Woman

This part of the story is detailed more in Mark’s Gospel. The woman’s inward state was one of faith and a determined need for secrecy. She had been repeatedly saying to herself, “If only I may touch his garment, I shall be made well.” She was forsaken by everyone and in a hopeless condition. She had been following Jesus for some time, looking for an opportunity. When she first saw him, a deep yearning and faith grew within her. She thought that if she came into contact with him in any way, even by touching the hem of his garment, she would be healed of her twelve-year-old disease. However, her faith had some flaws. She believed she could receive healing without Jesus’s knowledge or will. She had a great, but imperfect, faith. She was determined to keep it a secret because of the shameful nature of her disease. She wanted to secretly touch him and slip away, with only she and God knowing about the miracle.

It was true faith, but it was ignorant. She believed that her touch of the garment would heal her without Christ’s will or knowledge. Although it was ignorant and superstitious, it was born of a great hunger and an absolute confidence that a single touch of his robe was enough. Similarly, the ruler had great faith, but it was also flawed; it was somewhat selfish, only for his daughter. He thought Christ had to come and touch her, unlike the centurion’s greater faith. The Lord orchestrates this whole incident to build their weak faith. The Lord will take an inadequate faith like the man’s, which is somewhat selfish, and an inadequate faith like the lady’s, which is somewhat superstitious, and he will use the circumstances to transform them into saving faith.

He does not perform the miracles as they desired. The girl dies, and this woman wants to slip away, but he exposes her. He couldn’t let her just go, or all she would’ve remembered was the superstition. It is beautiful.

According to Mark 5:27-29:

“When she heard about Jesus, she came behind Him in the crowd and touched His garment. For she said, ‘If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well.’ Immediately the fountain of her blood was dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of the affliction.”

Her outward action was to come in the crowd, behind Jesus, and touch him. Everyone was pressing against him from all sides. “I will touch not even his body, but one of the tassels, and I will be healed,” she thought. She touched the border of his robe. The results were immediate. The fountain of her blood dried up, and she knew in her body that she was healed. She was not just immediately healed, but she also gained health and vigor. The debilitating effects of the disease were completely reversed. She was completely healed, as if she had gained back the health of the lost twelve years and had become twelve years younger. The healing was so powerful. She was physically and mentally conscious of this fact; she knew it in her body. For twelve years, she had lived with the constant knowledge of her terrible disease. Now, she felt a surge of life flowing through her body, and she knew the wearing effects of twelve years were totally reversed. This is divine healing, unlike anything seen today.

“And Jesus, immediately knowing in Himself that power had gone out of Him, turned around in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched My clothes?'”

She thought she had gotten away with the healing and that no one knew, not even Jesus, because she had touched him from behind. She thought she could escape now. But Jesus has eyes in the back of his head; he knows. This is a strange part of the passage. The Lord could have hidden what he had done and allowed her to go, but as I said, he wanted to bless her more and bring her to saving faith. He knew that she would miss great, inestimable blessings, and the Lord would have lost the glory. Miracles were his credentials.

Immediately, Jesus perceived in himself that power had gone forth from him. He says, “Who touched me?” He asks more than once. At first, everyone denied it. When no one responded, his disciples responded, “You see the multitude thronging you, and you say, ‘Who touched Me?'” They were being too smart. The Lord did not respond to them. You hardly notice a touch in a bus or a crowd, but Jesus always notices a touch of faith, unlike a normal press. He looks around, not to see who touched him, but to find her. He knew all the while who touched him. When she heard “Who touched me?” she knew she was found out. Maybe she tried to hide and get away in the crowd. She didn’t realize that the one who has the power to heal also knows everything and can find out. He looked around to see her, and his eyes scanned the crowd. When his eyes fixed on her, she must have felt that the day of judgment had dawned upon her. “I thought I would come secretly and steal the healing, but he knew everything. I am caught red-handed. Oh, my problem will be publicly known!”

“But the woman, fearing and trembling, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell down before Him and told Him the whole truth.”

The woman was fearful and trembling. She was shivering. She must have thought, “Will he reprove me for being an unclean woman touching him and defiling him? Will he take away the healing as a punishment for my crime? Will he expose me before the crowd, making the shame and embarrassment of my disease publicly known? Will he punish me, not only taking the healing but giving me a horrible plague instead for stealing?” Oh, she was trembling. She told him everything, revealing her secret. She lies at his feet. What is the Lord going to do?

See the compassionate Savior. He speaks comfort to her and blesses her beyond her imagination. He says to her:

“Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction.”

What a blessing! Matthew says he first tells her to “Be of good cheer.” This certainly speaks to the fact that she was without hope, desperate, and very much afraid. She was no longer an outcast among her people, and her uncleanness had been taken from her. He says, “Your faith has saved you,” and he purifies her faith. She may not have fully understood at first that it was her faith that had made her well. Perhaps she thought it had something to do with touching his garment, but he lets her know that it was really a matter of having sought him in faith. The “touch” was just an expression of her faith in him, and it was he himself that healed her. He sets her right: “Your faith,” not your finger, “has made you whole.” There was no real connection between the touch of the robe and healing, but the woman thought there was, and so Christ stooped to her childish thought and allowed her to prescribe the path that his mercy should take. But he would not leave her with her error. The true means of contact between us and him is not our outward contact with external means of grace, but the touch of our spirits by faith.

But she was already healed when she touched him. What does this mean now that he is saying it? The word he used can also mean “to save.” In fact, you can go through the Gospels and find many, many places where people were healed, and there is no indication that they particularly had faith. Not everyone was saved. She was already healed, but in addition to the physical healing, he said, “Your faith has,” and he did not use the word iaomai, which means to be made well physically. He used the word sodzo, which is the New Testament word to be saved. “Your faith has saved you,” and she was saved from that hour. She not only received physical healing but also salvation. He does that in some places, like with the blind man and the ten lepers; when one comes back, he says, “Your faith has saved you.” The Lord saved her soul when he said this.

And what’s more, as we can plainly see, her story had become an honored part of the story of the Gospel and has forever been recorded for us in three of the four written Gospel accounts. She must have been able to tell her story among God’s people for it to have become known and recorded in this way. He calls her “Daughter.” He gives her the assurance that she is now a part of his spiritual family. This is the only place in all the Gospels where Jesus ever calls a particular woman “daughter.” He generally says, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me.” He uses this term. Jairus came, “My precious little daughter, the darling of my heart, is dying.” Jesus picks up that word and says, “My daughter,” the object of my love. “Jairus may have a fatherly love of this world, but I loved you eternally and chose you. My daughter, I came for you. I know your twelve years of pain. It is only that pain that brought you to me. I know you lost all your money and went to all the doctors, with no money. That poverty brought you to me, otherwise you would still be going to some other doctor. I made all these circumstances for you to come in contact with me and be united to me. My daughter.” Oh, for that trembling and fearful heart, what great comfort and joy that word must have given. Except for her father when she was little, nobody had called her “daughter”; she was always “unclean,” “cursed,” and “defiled.” She hears “daughter” from his mouth. How beautiful and comforting. Only that woman will know the comfort that word brought to her soul. He saw her soul trembling in fear and hopelessness, and not just “daughter,” but also “be of good cheer.” “Poor, trembling, scared soul, my daughter, be of good cheer.”

Then he gives a gracious command: “Go in peace.” Go forth under the canopy and protection of God’s peace. In Aramaic, it is “Shalom.” A priestly blessing of shalom for her. Go in the blessing of God in its totality, the blessing of the covenant of God who gives us his peace in soul and body. Full peace. “Do not fear now.” He gives a comforting promise: “And be healed of your affliction.” Be whole of the plague. He is promising that this plague will never come back for as long as she lives. You must imagine what would have happened to her, who came trembling and fearful. “Your faith has saved you. You are part of my spiritual family, my daughter.” He brought her into living contact with him. “Go forth in the peace.” He promises the disease will never come back on her. She would have gone jumping and running and screaming. Her joy would have no limit. This is a beautiful display of the compassion of Christ for an outcast, unclean, trembling woman.


The Healing of the Synagogue Leader’s Daughter

Next, let us look at the leader of the synagogue. We have seen that the Lord is going at an express speed to save a dying girl. What happened there?

“While He was still speaking, some came from the ruler of the synagogue’s house who said, ‘Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?'”

Now put yourself in Jairus’s shoes for a moment. With a sense of urgency, he wanted to get Jesus to his house as quickly as he could—before death came and took his daughter away. There was not a moment to lose. And so, you can just imagine how frustrated he must have been as Jesus stopped to meet the needs of a woman who also sought him. I’m sure that if he had a watch, he would have been looking nervously at it. He would wonder why he was wasting time, not knowing it was an emergency. Priceless moments were being lost, but Jesus knows his own resources and can afford to let the child die while he heals the woman. He does this to bring both of these people to saving faith. The one will receive no harm by the delay, and the other will be blessed.

But Jairus stood impatiently by. His daughter was dying, and precious time was slipping away. And then the heartbreaking news came. Mark tells us that there was an interruption while he was still speaking. Matthew doesn’t talk about all this; he just goes directly to what happened in the ruler’s house. Mark gives this additional information. While he was just saying, “Go in peace and in good health,” a disheartening piece of information came. They came, maybe servants, relatives, or friends of Jairus. While he was speaking, they pulled Jairus aside and told him sad news and gave him a strong suggestion.

The sad news was, “Your daughter is dead.” One can imagine how those words must have felt to Jairus. What a blow! His fatherly heart must have melted. It was too late. There may have been hope while she lived, but now, all hope was gone. It was a tremendous blow to Jairus. In his desperation, he had left everything, come running, thrown himself down at Jesus’s feet, and in desperate importunity, pleaded with Christ, “Come and lay your hand on her.” When Jesus comes to do that, his faith is strengthening, and his expectation increases. “He will come and lay his hand on her. I will get back my daughter. She will become well,” he must have thought repeatedly in his mind. He had confidence that the great Lord was accompanying him, and death could not snatch his daughter away from him. He was pressing through the crowds. Now, in the midst of swelling, growing expectations, there is sad news. His relatives and friends come, and he could see their faces with tears—death news on their faces. He hears the words he never wanted to hear in his life: “Your daughter has died.” Oh, what a shock to that man who loved his daughter so much. With that sad information, they give him a strong suggestion: “Why trouble the teacher any further?” It’s a very strong word, “trouble,” because Jesus was coming to Jairus’s house with tremendous difficulty, with the crowd pressing around. They are saying, “Why are you troubling the teacher more and making him come to the house? There is no use; she is dead.”

“As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken, He said to the ruler of the synagogue, ‘Do not be afraid; only believe.'”

But Jesus, not heeding the word spoken, overhears this. “Stop being afraid.” This indicates that Jairus’s swelling, growing faith was declining. The news of death was like a pin in a balloon, and fear was taking its place. That faith was eroding and being destroyed after this news. Jesus is arresting the process with a command: “Stop being afraid and only be believing.” Do not let the faith in your heart be replaced with fear, but only be believing. Luke adds another piece of information to strengthen his faith. Luke 8:50 says, “Fear not, only believe, and she shall be saved.” When he commanded him to stop fearing and to believe, he gave him a specific promise to rest his faith on.

“And He permitted no one to follow Him except Peter, James, and John the brother of James.”

Then, with his awesome power, he suffered no one to follow him. How can he do that with the pressure of that great crowd? It appeared the crowd was in charge of the circumstance, but we see he was in charge. He was creating the circumstances that could bring out the small faith of that poor woman. As soon as the crowd served its purpose for that miracle, Jesus dismissed the entire crowd, permitting only Jairus, Peter, James, and John to follow him. The crowd of the first miracle scene closes, and only five people go to Jairus’s house.

This is where Matthew picks up the scene:

“When Jesus entered the synagogue leader’s house and saw the noisy crowd and people playing pipes, he said, ‘Go away. The girl is not dead but asleep.’ But they laughed at him.”

Mark 5:38 says:

“Then He came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and saw a tumult and those who wept and wailed loudly. When He came in, He said to them, ‘Why make this commotion and weep? The child is not dead, but sleeping.'”

Tumultuous and oppressive conditions were discovered in the house of Jairus. He beholds it, not with a mere glance, but intently to take into account the situation. It is a tumult, a riot, a loud, confused noise made by a large mass of people. They were beating their breasts and some were crying. Not only this, there were flute players making a shrill and piercing sound, creating a veritable cacophony of wailing, weeping, and screaming.

Generally, in Christian homes, funerals are subdued and reserved, quiet, but this was a tradition that had developed in Palestine. They had rules in the Talmud for funerals. The wailing women and flute players were paid professionals. They had rules that they should have such people. Even if you were very poor, you should have one woman and two flute players. But this man was rich, so he had a lot of wailers and flutes. They were putting on the best performance because this was a major family and the leader of the synagogue, and his only daughter. A lot of crowds, even whole towns of people, came. They were wailing, beating their breasts, and spreading their hair. Above their noise came the piercing sound of flutes. The house was full of commotion and noise. The paid professional women would have learned the domestic history of the whole family, so they would be bringing up the names of everybody who had ever died in that family and erupting old sorrows that had been buried long ago. They had songs for each relationship. They would scream and shriek and wail, and everybody would be somewhere tearing their clothes. You could imagine what a mess: ripping and tearing, screaming and shrieking and wailing, and guys all over the place playing flutes. Even Roman historians wrote that there were so many flute players playing and so much screaming at the death of Emperor Claudius that they felt that Claudius himself probably heard it, even though he was dead. So you can see what a funeral was like in those times. In our place, there are drums playing. All of this is in strong contrast to the majestic calmness of Jesus.

When Jesus arrived at the house of the synagogue ruler, Jairus, to heal his daughter, he saw a scene of chaos with professional mourners crying and making a commotion. He then made a powerful and stunning statement: “The child is not dead, but sleeping.”

What Jesus Meant

Jesus’s statement was not a medical diagnosis suggesting the girl was in a coma. The text makes it clear that she was truly and clinically dead, and everyone present, including the professional mourners, knew it. Jesus was making a theological statement. By calling her death a “sleep,” He was asserting His absolute authority over death. For Him, death was not a final, irreversible end but a temporary, controllable state from which He could awaken her just as easily as waking someone from sleep. It was a bold declaration of His divine power and a promise that, for those who believe in Him, death is nothing more than a temporary sleep.


The Unbelief and Scorn of the Crowd

The response of the professional mourners was not one of hope or faith. Instead, they “laughed him to scorn.” Their laughter was not one of joy or relief but of blatant unbelief and mockery. They were professionals who had seen death many times and were certain the girl was dead. To them, Jesus’s words were foolish, and they openly ridiculed Him. This highlights a tragic truth: unbelief often responds to the most glorious truth with scorn and mockery. Their fake mourning was easily replaced by a spirit of derision, showing their hearts were far from God.


The Expulsion and Resurrection

In response to their mockery, Jesus “put them all outside.” The word used for “put out” is the same one used for casting out demons, showing His righteous anger toward their unbelief. He removed the atmosphere of mockery and unbelief from the room, leaving only a few people of faith: the girl’s parents and three of His disciples.

Then, Jesus went to the dead girl, took her by the hand, and spoke to her in His native language, Aramaic: “Talitha, cumi,” which means “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” The term “Talitha” is a tender word of endearment, like “little lamb.” This combination of infinite power with gentle intimacy is a beautiful display of His character. There was no long ritual or complicated prayer; with a simple touch and a few words, He commanded life back into a lifeless body. The girl “immediately arose and walked,” leaving everyone in a state of “great amazement.”


Lessons for Believers

This passage teaches us several powerful truths:

  • Death is a Sleep for the Believer: For those who are in Christ, death is not a final, terrifying end but merely a sleep from which they will be awakened by the voice of the Son of God.
  • The Power of Christ: Jesus’s ability to effortlessly conquer death demonstrates His absolute power and authority over all things. He is the Sovereign Conqueror of Death.
  • The Danger of Unbelief: The mourners’ laughter resulted in them being excluded from witnessing the miracle. Unbelief can blind us to the mighty works of God and separate us from His presence and glory. It is a terrible and shameful thing.
  • The Compassion of Christ: Even in the midst of a great miracle, Jesus showed profound tenderness. He used a word of endearment and even reminded the parents to give the girl food, showing His concern for every small detail. He is an approachable and caring Savior who is attentive to our every need.

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