Sermon for 15th Sunday after Pentecost

Sermon:

Text: Mark 7:24-8:9

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ who opens us.

            The woman sat in her daughters room, looking at the small child who struggled for breath. She didn’t know the cause, so they all just said it was a demon. As she sat watching her daughter’s chest rasp and bounce as it shuttered up and down in feeble bursts she heard a commotion outside. Getting up she looked towards the small window that provided the only light to the room. From outside she heard a man cry, “the great healer is here.” As her daughter rattled behind her, a small blossom of hope opened in her heart. Maybe, just maybe this is her answer. He was a Jew, she was a gentile, she shouldn’t talk to him, but, this might be her daughter’s only hope. So, she gathered her cloak and went out, hoping and praying her daughter would not die while she was gone.

            She reached the house where the healer was staying. As she entered she was again overcome by how wrong it was of her to talk to this Jew as a Gentile, but she had no where else to turn. So, she threw herself on the ground in front of the healer and begged. “Healer, cure my daughter, take the demon from her.” She hoped this great healer would look beyond race and nationality and be compassionate.

            The healer looked at her. And he paused and said, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

            Her heart plunged. He was not going to help her yet. He had not said no, but said he must look to the Jews first, the Children first, and then to dogs like her. It pained her to hear those words, dogs. Yes, she was not a Jew, and the attitude between the two groups was never rosy, but she had hoped this great healer would look beyond that. In her desperation she cried, but, healer, Children take the food given to them, and they feed the dogs. Healer, if you had the openness of a child you would feed me. Could you not look upon me with mercy despite who I am?

            The healer looked at her in astonishment. Had he so soon forgot his teachings from just a few days ago? That it was not what entered the body the defiled, but what left? That what matters about a person is not who they are on the outside, but who they are on the inside. Had he in just a few days reacted in the same way that the Pharisee’s he so strongly reprimanded would have reacted? Had he after preaching so often about welcoming the outsider in just now pushed someone away? Had he actually in a fleeting moment of passion called this deeply hurting woman a dog?

            The healer opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “You are right, go home, your daughter is free, the demon has left her.”

            The woman could not believe her ears. Had this great healer just changed his mind? Had he changed from an attitude of racial prejudice to an attitude of welcoming the stranger? Had he changed from hostility to hospitality?

            She ran home and threw herself up the stairs. She opened the door to her daughters room and saw her still laying there. But, no longer was she rasping, no longer was she struggling. Laying there in the sun coming through the window she simply, peacefully slept, chest rising and falling gently with no fault. She collapsed on the floor next to the bed, a lifetime of hurt gone in an instant.

            Across the town the healer sat in the room he had rented to get a few days alone after months and months of walking, teaching, and healing. He sat there in thought, pondering what was going on. How his life had changed from that moment a year ago when he was baptized in the river that was within a days walk from where he now sat. He knew that his Father had sent him on a course and he had thought he knew the path. He knew his purpose to preach to the Jews and proclaim to them the Good News of the coming of the kingdom of God. But, this woman, she changed things. Were his words he spoke to that crowd just a few days ago grander than he had thought? Was he called to the gentiles now, and not later? Was the Good News open to all now, not later?

            The Healer changed his mind. He did not want word of him to spread, he would continue to tell others to not speak of him and his healings. But, he could not come to Gentile lands and not heal and teach.

            The next day the healer got up and started back towards the Sea of Galilee, but not straight to Jewish lands, but instead further into Gentile areas, towards Sidon and the Decapolis, the 10 Roman cities in the area. There he met a crowd leading a man towards him. Again, he was a gentile. The healer saw by his blank stare that this man was deaf and mute. The crowd pushed in around him and begged him to heal the man. The healer took the man to the side, he spat upon his finger and touched the man’s tongue, and then taking both hands he placed them upon the man’s ears. He looked up to heaven, and sighed.

            He sighed deeply, inhaling every breath of air it was possible for his body to take. For he knew that the words he was about to speak were for himself just as much as they were for the man before him. He looked up, sighed, and said, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be Opened.” Immediately the man’s ears were opened and his tongue was released, and he spoke.

            The healer walked on. For once alone on the road. As he walked he thought more and more about what that woman had said to him. The message of God’s grace and forgiveness, the message of abundant feeding, was so abundant he did not need to hold it back to one people, in fact since it was so abundant, he did not think he could hold it back had he continued to want to. He regretted calling the woman a dog, she was not one, he had fallen prey to the stereotypes and insults of those he grew up around, his Father was calling him to look beyond those stereotypes and insults and telling him to tell others to look beyond them.

            That woman had talked of children feeding dogs under the table, but her message was really the message he had told that deaf man, Be opened. Do not contain yourself to those who are like you, but open yourself to the stranger. Be hospitable, not hostile.

            As he walked upon that road all he could think was Ephphatha. Be opened.

As he reached the town where his disciples were waiting for him he saw a crowd gathering, a crowd of 4000, made up of Jews and Gentiles alike. He recalled the crowd of 5000, and realized his Father had given him a chance to expand his message. He did not wait for the disciples, he was so opened from his experience with that woman that he immediately had compassion for them. He took the seven loaves the disciples had with them, broke them, and when they gathered the leftovers it was not the 12 baskets representing the 12 tribes that were gathered, but it was only 7 baskets. But, as the healer stood there looking out at the crowd, he knew it was 7 baskets representing the 7 days of creation, representing the wholeness not just of the Jews, but all of creation. The healer stood there and knew he had been opened. Ephphatha.

Let us pray,

God of healing. Heal us. Open us. Help us to see past the skin to the child of God within. Help us to not say dog, but welcome. Help us to see with the openness of a child and feed those around us. Help us to be like Jesus and be opened to see the world around us as God wants us to see it, and the creation that God calls very good.

Amen.