It wasn't that they didn't try. Oh no. They had tried--everything. And as a last attempt, when all else was hopeless, when the doctors had shaken their heads and gone away quietly, her father put on his coat and left.
He slipped out quiet, and no one saw him leave.
He'd never thought he would do this. Not in public. It would be a disgrace if anyone saw--and see they would. Because the new rabbi always had crowds following. He heard them before he saw them--the shouts of joy, of request, the children squealing, the shuffling of feet--but he kept on going. The people part to let him through, murmuring yet respectful.
The leader of the synagogue comes face to face with the Leader of all.
Jairus falls on his knees in desperation. Leaders of the synagogue don't do that. But this one does. "Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be healed and live!"he begs (Mark 5:23).
"And He went with him." (vs. 24)
So many things He could have done. So many things He could have said. Perhaps the disciples wonder why Jesus doesn't take the perfect opportunity to teach this rabbi a lesson. Don't refuse to heal the daughter, of course...just put a condition on it. Sure, I'll heal your daughter, if you will promise to keep the other leaders from harassing Me.
But there are no conditions. There is only a request. And an answer.
He goes with him.
And she is made alive.