Mark 7:24-37
From there he 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.”
I’m fascinated by doors and openings. Windows. Gaps in rock formations. Holes in trees. The gleaming break in the clouds. I remember a crisp fall day when our son was little, our family visited a hotel with a very responsive automatic door. You could inch forward, and the door would fly open. I think the staff there was irritated because leaves and wind were being welcomed in more often than any guest. First grade Davis kept sneaking up to see how far away he could be and still fling wide the doors.
He felt like he was the greatest magician in this world. With the confidence that only 6-year-olds have, he declared, “I’ve always been pretty good at opening things.”
Today, the lectionary shows us two stories of miraculous healing. Two drive-by miracles.
Both stories are about people recovering their voice. One touched Jesus through her logic and persistence, and the other Jesus was touched, on his ears and on his tongue. Ultimately, both stories showcase an incredible opening of something that had been closed… For the deaf man, his ears had been closed from birth, which usually causes serious
speech issues. His ears were finally opened. Can you imagine the world of sound that was
unsealed for him?
I remember a congregation member sharing with me what it was like not to be able to
hear. The frustration. The inconvenience. But most people don’t realize it brings deep anxiety and isolation. You start to feel like an outsider. 48 million Americans have some kind of hearing loss. 1 out of 3 people over the age of 65.
Another congregation member told me how it felt the day she got cochlear implants – the flood of sensation was so great it made her weep, and then came the opening … not just of neuropathways but the opening of dreams, dreams of sharing an opinion in class, dreams of hearing her mom’s voice, dreams of having a career she actually wanted – a world of speech and sound that always been closed off… finally … opened.
Be opened. The Bible preserves Jesus’ exact words in Aramaic here because it was the
heart of what Jesus had always been trying to bring about in the world… Ephphatha … be
opened.
For the Syrophoenician woman, closure wasn’t about sight or sound or speech. It had everything to do with access. She was closed off from her own child because of a demon.
Anyone who has ever felt closed off from a loved one because of addiction or depression or even a huge misunderstanding knows how desperate that can make a person. I am not insinuating that those struggles are demons, but if you have ever felt a wall like that go up between you and
loved one, you know how desperate you feel to break through it. Her child was on the other side of this huge psychic wall. The boiling love to save a child might just be the furnace that moves everything in this world. And here, Jesus seemed to suggest – in a way that seems uncharacteristic for him – that access to healing was also closed for her. “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Now, some scholars wonder if Jesus was testing the woman’s faith, knowing he would eventually heal her. He could have been telling her about his primary calling to the Jews, with Gentiles second in line. Others suggest that this reference to dogs… was really because he saw her as a puppy, a sweet lost desperate creature.
The interpreter’s debate here is heated! Suffice it to say, Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs…. was not in our top 10 scripture verses to use when advertising for the church picnic.
Some scholars are confused and even disappointed by these words from Jesus. So here’s yet another layer of this story. To be confused or disappointed with Jesus or his followers, that is yet another closing off in this story. Disappointment with God can lead to some of the deepest alienation a person can experience. Some of you have experienced disappointment with Christ or his body of believers in your lives. And, if that has been you, take heart. Because the one thing that everyone agrees on in this story is that it does not end here.
The woman does something astounding. She pushes back on Jesus, playfully, saying, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Her hope was alive enough to see how things would play out if she got creative, if she believed that her voice mattered, if she pushed beyond the first no, and if she stayed open. There it is again: Be opened.
And she was right. Jesus said to her “by saying that… by that logos (the root word of logic)… you may go. The demon has left your daughter.” Her words opened the table of healing for her. And after that, this part is often glossed over, the woman’s hope was alive enough to depart Jesus and head on back home with only the trust that his words were true. She departed only with his words of promise. And that was enough.
The people in these stories are some of my faith heroes. The deaf man reminds me to trust beyond my logic. He reminds me that there are times when God comes so close that I am made mute and when I do speak again, I am a different person… When the baby was healed.
When the MRI was unfathomably clear. When the monarch caterpillar went from crunching a leaf of milkweed to dangling as a green and gold chrysalis in the span of a few hours. The deaf man’s healing reminds me never to limit God.
But the Syrophoenician woman reminds me not to disregard crumby miracles. Yes, I intend to play with the words, just the woman did. Crumby miracles. She saw abundance even in the crumbs from Christ’s table. I see her as the champion of small wins. The champion of trusting in God’s longer story. She trusts that miracles can rise from long nights of wrestling. She trusts that miracles can surface long after the struggle. She trusts that sometimes you have to take God’s word for it and keep going. Hers are the breathy prayers to God that almost don’t feel allowed. Prayers dragged out of pits of desperation, rather than prayers whispered politely over doilies and tea cookies. And her story reminds me that a woman from the margins, a woman finding her voice, she is given a place of honor in the story of Jesus. Her logic and creativity and fierce love are honored in the story of Jesus. After their conversation, after this encounter way up North when Jesus seemed like he just wanted to be off the grid, a place was opened for the Gentiles at the table of Jesus Christ. And the cool thing about this opening is that it just gets larger. The next story in the Gospel of Mark is the feeding of the 4000, and this time the meal occurs on Gentile land. I like to imagine these two people as my ushers week after week. One hands me a dose of mystery and miracle, so that I don’t dwell only in my head. So that my ears don’t tune out the things I can’t explain. So that I don’t stutter over the ineffable power of Christ Jesus, crucified, died and raised again for the salvation of this world.
And the other hands me a dose of chutzpah, the audacity to engage, to find my voice, to elevate those who are often told they don’t belong. She reminds me that our voices are part of how God’s miracles and justice and compassion happen in this world. She reminds me to stay open and creative and seize upon every micro-grace I can find. And it turns out the world is covered in crumbs of holiness, there is always manna enough for every single day. Jesus would continue to heal and teach until he was eventually betrayed by those who shared the table with him. Until he became the ultimate outsider and gave his life for those who didn’t act much like friends. And just when it seemed like the world was deaf to love, unable to mumble out hope, and blocked forever by all this guilt and the senseless division and violence it creates, that’s when a word from God rang out on Easter… Be opened. Be opened. And the stone was rolled away.
Be opened. That might be the great mantra of the Christian faith.
When you are closed in fear, for your family, for your future, for this world… be opened. When you are closed in your thinking, and you realize it has been a long time since something changed your mind, or someone different from you sat at your table, be opened. When you are hungry for faith that invites the rigor of your mind and the depth of your soul, be opened, even to a world of crumby Christians, who know that intelligence and compassion and devotion and debate can exist at the same table, and miracles can be found beyond what can be explained in 20 minutes. Or even 20 years. Be opened.
When you know that many in this world still struggle to hear, many still struggle to be heard, and many are still grasping for food, throw your energy to become part of the opening power of God. Be opened.
And know that one day, we will stand in awe, saying together “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
We walk in faith toward Jesus, who has always been good at opening things.