The little girl had died (Mark 5:35).  The friends of Jairus, the synagogue leader, told him the bad news and that there was no more need to trouble Jesus.  It was too late.  Nothing could be done.  But Jesus took command of the situation.  Having instructed Jairus to stop being frightened (Mark 5:36), it seems that Jesus now led the way to the home where the lifeless body lay.  Jesus selected only three of the disciples, who were later to become the leaders of the church in Jerusalem, to witness what He would do.  It was to be a bedside tutorial of the Christ's power to give new life.

Familiarity does breed contempt.  But that is not normally true for the local-boy-come-good; or the town that glows in the reflected glory of one of its sporting sons.  However, in this passage it is astonishing to see how quickly the narrative moves from 'amazing teaching' to 'offence'.  Why?  Offence is certainly not a natural sequel to amazement.  Something else is going on here.

The ministry of Jesus is often reviewed as a constant round of miracles and nice stories.  Mark says that Christ's core ministry task before the cross was teaching the truth about the kingdom of God (Mark 1:14-15), and that He was the appointed King (Mark 15:2).  But He did not teach without the disciples being present.  They were not just film-set extras, the production entourage, or even supporting cast.  The disciples were there to learn.  Every miracle and teaching session was strategically directed at them as trainee apostles.  They were Jesus' principal audience (Mark 4:34).

The ethos of every religion, operating outside the gospel, is to add many good deeds to outweigh the bad record of our lives.  Religious piety and rituals, praying, personal discipline and asceticism, charitable actions to help the poor, pilgrimages to sacred places, and giving money … all these are universal characteristics of religion, whatever the belief system.  The principle is to do enough to be accepted by God, and the belief that if we try hard enough we can achieve it.  It is, however, a fool's errand.  Nothing we can do will ever make us acceptable before the true God, whose majes