Isaiah 35:4-7a
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
“Be strong, do not fear!
Here is your God.
He will come with vengeance,
with terrible recompense.
He will come and save you.”
Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then the lame shall leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,
and streams in the desert;
the burning sand shall become a pool,
and the thirsty ground springs of water.
Mark 7:24-37
[Jesus] set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
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I’ve gone many many rounds on what to say about today’s readings.
In our gospel reading today, we have two different healing stories, both of which take place in Gentile territory, past the geographical and theological boundaries of the chosen people, Israel.
In our gospel reading today, we also catch Jesus in a sharp moment of unkindness that is incredibly difficult to either explain or to reconcile with our understanding of his compassion and mercy.
These healing stories happen near the end of a longer narrative in Mark’s gospel that has been unfolding since the beginning of chapter six.
Jesus and his disciples have been on a kingdom-spreading journey, beginning in Nazareth, Jesus’s hometown. Bit by bit, they have been working their way outward from there, healing, teaching, and spreading the good news that God has come near in Christ. Jesus has been doing some spectacular miracles - feeding the 5000, walking on water, calming a stormy sea, healing many - and these miracles are signs of the abundance and compassion of the new world that Jesus is bringing to birth.
This kingdom-spreading journey has not been without it’s bumps and bruises. From the outset, those closest to Jesus and those who think themselves closest to God are the ones who misunderstand, reject, or take offense at his teachings. And those who are most in need are most likely to understand Jesus for who he is. Jesus has argued with the religious leaders about whether and how to keep the law, and has made grand statements about how God’s kingdom is for all, beyond any old rules of “in” and “out.”
As if to put an exclamation point on this, Jesus immediately crosses into Gentile territory. He literally moves the kingdom out into the wide world.
It is here, beyond the boundary, that our two healing stories take place today.
The first story takes place while Jesus has gone off alone, trying to catch a break from the crowds for a while. A woman, likely pagan, likely wealthy, definitely not Jewish, comes to seek him out on behalf of her suffering daughter.
And this is where we get into some difficulty.
Because we would expect Jesus to have compassion on her as he has had compassion on so many others, healing her daughter with all kindness and grace.
Instead, Jesus recognizes her as a Gentile, makes a snap judgement, and perhaps before he even realizes what he’s saying, tells her that she isn’t a “child” (a chosen one of Israel), but instead that she is a “dog” (a Gentile, that is, someone outside the covenant.)
Jesus’s words are difficult, and not in a “provocative but helpful” way. They are simply rude. And unkind. And uncalled for.
I don’t know. Maybe he’s just tired and burnt out. Maybe he’s annoyed that she has rushed his plans for extending the kingdom to outsiders. Maybe he’s lived his whole life around people who have casually made slurs against Gentiles and women and pagans, and he doesn’t know any better. Maybe, since he’s been saying difficult and offensive things for a couple of chapters now, he feels no need to put on a filter now. Maybe he’s testing the woman. Or his disciples. Or maybe he’s trying to teach a lesson. Maybe Jesus is trying to show us bad we look when we make snap judgements and speak unkind words to strangers.
Mind you, the woman in today’s gospel doesn’t get hung up on any of this stuff. She doesn’t worry about why Jesus says what he does.
All that she cares about is the fact that her daughter needs healing, and badly, and that for no apparent reason, Jesus has wandered into her village.
She knows and trusts that Jesus has all of the abundance of God to share. And so she isn’t going to settle for being told that he doesn’t have anything for her. “Sir,” she says, which can also be translated, “Lord” - “even the dogs under the table eat the crumbs that the children drop.” And just like that, he is bested in the argument; humbled and convicted. He changes his “no” to a “yes” and tells the woman, “Your daughter is healed.”
Jesus goes on from there to another Gentile territory up the shore, and he meets a man who can neither hear nor speak. Jesus does not argue this time. He touches the man’s ears and says to him, “Be opened!”
Be opened.
These are the words that get at the heart of today’s reading.
Jesus begins his journey Nazareth and says “be opened” to the kingdom of God. Signs of this kingdom - health, provision, grace, hospitality - open up in wider and wider circles.
Jesus looks at the old divisions between Jew and Gentile, clean and unclean, and says to them, “be opened,” even as he argues and disputes with those who want to preserve the law at the expense of those most vulnerable.
The Gentile woman today opens up Jesus’s heart to a new understanding of what it might look like for God’s kingdom to be for all. It is no longer a matter of bread and crumbs, it is a matter of all people receiving, from the hand of God, exactly what they need. And all people learning to share from their abundance, just as Jesus has been challenged to share his healing gifts.
Here’s the thing about the kingdom of God. It has really strange and fluid and surprising boundaries. Over and over again in the gospel, the outsiders become insiders and the insiders become outsiders. It is a Gentile woman who calls Jesus “Sir,” or “Lord,” and receives healing power for her daughter. It is a deaf and mute man who hears the healing Jesus and can’t keep his mouth shut about it.
When we look at our world, who does our society say are the children and who are the dogs? Who are the ones eating at the table and who are the ones underneath waiting for scraps to fall down to them? Who are the ones waiting to hear mercy and longing to speak justice? Who are the ones in need that confront us in our abundance?
While there is beauty in today’s gospel reading, it is also a gospel that digs into us. We know that make snap judgements all the time. We know that we live in a world that makes sharp distinctions between children and dogs, deserving and undeserving, first priority and low on the list. We know that, even despite our best intentions, we still grumble when the needs of our world disrupt us and the needs of our neighbors interrupt us.
But God makes no distinction. Not between rich and poor, or between rich in spirit and poor in spirit. God’s mercy triumphs over judgement. The healing power of Jesus is not just for a chosen few, but for all. The real, transformative, compassionate love of God is not just for our neighbors, it is also for strangers, outcasts, and even our enemies.
Jesus will always be the one opening our hearts and opening the boundaries all over again, even as his own heart and boundaries were opened. Because the surprising kingdom of God’s compassion and mercy is still moving and spreading and evolving among us.
In the same way that we have been shown mercy out of God’s abundance, so we are called and empowered to share the abundance we have been given, without partiality, without judgment, but only showing mercy to the ones, like the those in today’s gospel, who confront and convict us with their need.
We will each receive a crumb of bread at this table today. In even the smallest taste, we receive the fullness of what Jesus offers us: hope, healing, forgiveness, and life. In each small crumb, we receive God’s kingdom, again and again. The boundaries are flung open again and again. Our hearts are opened, again and again. It is from this table that we we are sent, with pockets full of bread, to open our hands and offer these same gifts to others, through word and through deed.
In the name of Christ, the one who opens our eyes and our hearts.
Amen.
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