TWO STORIES OF HEALING
Mark 7:24-37
September 27, 2009 - Rev. Janet Robertson Duggins
Just to set the context in Mark’s gospel, we should note that our two stories for today follow a lengthy and rather tense conversation between Jesus and some religious leaders about whether it is important to keep strictly to accepted traditions (such as ritual handwashing) that for Jews symbolized a holy life, one that set them apart as God’s people. Jesus and his friends were often accused of not following all these traditions.
These two stories form a pair, and are meant to be read and considered together. Looking at them together will give us more insight into them than we would get from looking at them separately. This is one of a number of story pairings in the gospels in which a story about a woman is followed by a related one about a man.
Both these stories take place in “foreign” territory. The first one is set in “the region of
Both stories involve someone coming to Jesus with a need for healing, and more than that, a need for hope.
They portray Jesus as one who can heal. In both stories he is sought out apparently because his reputation has given people the idea that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance he will be able, and even willing, to help.
And let’s just say it: these are both kind of strange stories! Jesus responds to these people in ways that puzzle us. We don’t quite get why he’d say such a rude-sounding thing to the woman who asks for help for her daughter. We read about him sticking his fingers in the deaf man’s ears, and spitting (!), and touching the guy’s tongue, and we say, “yuck,” and we want to give him a lecture on germs. And we can’t for the life of us figure out why he wouldn’t want this man who can suddenly talk again to tell people about the miracle… or why he’d bother with this request anyway, since it’s quite obvious nobody who was there is going to keep quiet.
Today I’m particularly interested in the way these two stories together speak to us, so I’m not going to spend a lot of time on the difficult questions that each one of them raises.
But in terms of their strangeness, remember that these stories, like all the gospel stories, have more than one layer of meaning for us:
They tell us some things about Jesus’ ministry.
But they also tell us about the
The
Given all that, Mark makes deliberate choices about which Jesus stories he tells.
He has the circumstances of the people he’s writing for in mind. He focuses on what they most need to know about Jesus.
You know, Jesus as Mark describes him isn’t the gentle mild-mannered teacher and story-teller we sometimes picture, and most of the time he doesn’t seem to be the holy man who dwells on a spiritual plane a little above everyone else. Mark’s Jesus is earthy and plain-spoken and a little bit in a hurry. He is sometimes impatient with how slow his disciples are to understand the things he says and does. He criticizes the leaders and the respectable people of his community with no tact whatsoever. He talks to his followers about service and sacrifice and suffering, and he never sugar-coats anything.
When you remember what we’ve learned about Mark – that his gospel’s atmosphere is crisis, and urgency, and fear… maybe it’s not all that surprising that here we see Jesus very much in the midst of all the conflicts and struggles of life. Mark’s Jesus is a very human and down-to-earth Jesus, for the most part, wrestling in the real world with the same kinds of difficult challenges Mark’s church faces.
When Jesus says “Let the children be fed first; it’s not fair to take their bread and throw it to the dogs,” we are aware that he is right smack in the middle of, and a part of, a culture of separation. It’s not clear how he feels about it, but it’s a fact. His calling and teachings are unquestionably rooted in Jewish tradition and so his mission has naturally begun within the Jewish community, and nobody would have expected it to be focused anyplace else. Rude and insulting though he sounds, he’s only expressing a commonly held and probably often stated point of view among his compatriots, somewhat akin to “Charity begins at home.”
But as we read the story, the vision of who the grace of God extends to expands in front of our eyes. Think of Mark’s readers, part of a community of both Jewish and Gentile Christians, struggling with what it means to be rooted in Jewish teaching and at the same time accepting of non-Jewish believers. They see Jesus face the question – no pretending it’s not a difficult issue! – and they see the answer: there is enough healing grace for all.
When we see Jesus responding to the deaf and mute man whose friends beg him to help, we don’t really expect him to act the way he does. We’d like this miracle better if Jesus would just say “be healed,” or something, instead of all the touching and spitting. It’s a little too personal and too messy. And why take the man off to a private spot? Isn’t half the point of a healing miracle to demonstrate to people how God’s power and compassion are at work in Jesus? And what’s with the sighing? (some translations say that Jesus “groaned”!) Isn’t this sort of thing supposed to be easy for Jesus?
Again, this makes more sense if we think not of our own vision of Jesus, but of Mark’s Jesus. In the real world, which is often not pretty, the healing of brokenness isn’t easy. It means getting close to the people who are hurting and sometimes it’s messy. And when you’re in a hostile environment, there’s no point in showing it off for the benefit of others; they won’t understand the true significance of what’s happening anyway.
Mark’s readers – his Jewish readers, anyway – would have understood the significance of this particular healing story in a way that the people who witnessed the healing probably did not. They would have remembered some words from Isaiah:
“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.” (Isaiah 35: 4-6).
They would have known that Mark is portraying Jesus as the promised
One sent from God – not just another
celebrity healer, but the One sent to establish God’s kingdom on earth. A deaf-mute person healed to hear and speak
is a sign of God’s kingdom - a new
reality in which the community of God’s people is restored to wholeness and
health. It would have probably surprised
them, then, that this healing miracle takes place not in the temple or a
synagogue, not in
Here again the vision of who God’s grace is for and where it operates is expanded.
It’s important for the church Mark is writing to to understand that this expanded vision they are coming to grips with already had begun with Jesus’ own ministry.
Notice a couple of other things about these stories:
There is such a strong sense of people actively participating in the mission of Jesus. Mark’s readers surely couldn’t ever get the idea that Christian faith is passive acceptance of Jesus’ teachings or the blessings he offers.
In both stories we see people coming to Jesus on behalf of someone else. Their concern for the people they love and their willingness to act and advocate for them are ultimately affirmed. These things make a difference. Community and responsibility and care for one another undergird these stories.
In both stories Jesus’ power is evident… but there is room for the choices and the will and the actions of others to also affect what happens. The woman stands her ground and claims a stake in God’s blessings, even before Jesus indicates any willingness to go there. And the vision for the Christian community expands.
The formerly deaf and mute man (and his friends too) hear Jesus warn them not to talk about his healing - nobody knows for sure exactly why he tells them this – but they can’t keep quiet about it. When someone’s life is transformed, there is no stopping the news… and the spread of the good news becomes the work of every person whose life is transformed by the touch of Jesus’ healing power.
In both stories, we grasp Mark’s faith that the community of Jesus’ followers is going to keep growing, expanding far beyond the bounds the first Christians imagined.
Both stories are about “opening up”: The opening up of the Jesus’ community to the Gentiles, and along with it access to Jesus’ transforming power. And the opening of ears (and hearts and minds) to receive the good news, and the freeing of tongues (and spirits) to allow for sharing that news.
This is essentially about release from the fears that limit. Mark’s community knows all about fear – fear of differences, fear of change, fear of enemies, fear of a hostile culture. They aren’t sure they are going to survive the things they are afraid of. But Mark’s stories of Jesus tell them that they will. They can follow that vision of a church that welcomes the stranger, and it will be ok. They can be a community of diverse background and cultures, and it will be ok. They can open their minds to new ideas, and it will be ok. They can embrace the broken and hurting, and it will be ok. They can speak about their faith, and it will be ok.
It won’t be easy, necessarily. But it will be ok. And the current crisis will pass. There may be, probably will be, other crises. But it will be ok, and more than ok. And the church will survive, and the good news will spread. Because nothing will stop the transforming power of the gospel to touch people’s lives with healing, hope, acceptance, freedom, and a vision of God’s all-embracing love.