Two weeks ago we watched Jesus stretch out his hand and touch a leper (Matthew 8:3). Now, at the other end of the same day, he touches again. Some traditions of that time frowned on a rabbi touching a woman, and others avoided contact with the feverish altogether. Jesus is not governed by the fences men built around the law. When someone is hurting, he goes to them. He was reaching across lines in the morning, and he is still reaching across them at sundown.
Notice the completeness of what happens. The fever does not slowly fade. There is no period of recovery, no instruction to rest for a few days. She gets up. When we are tired, our work gets sloppy and the last task of the day is rarely our best. But the last healing of Jesus’ day is as complete as the first. His grace does not get thinner as the day gets longer, and his power does not run low at sundown.
Matthew also chooses his words carefully. The verb for “rose” (egeirÅ) is the same word he will use for resurrection, including the resurrection of Jesus himself (Matthew 28:6-7). This small household miracle is a picture of new life. Paul tells us that our condition was far worse than a fever: “you were dead in the trespasses and sins” (Ephesians 2:1). Jesus did not come to help us manage our sickness. He came to take us by the hand and raise us up.