Be Opened

Sermon preached at Germantown Mennonite Church

9.2.18

Based on Mark 7:24-37

Jesus was heading into Canaanite territory to take a respite from his work.  He didn’t want to be noticed. But it was difficult for the Rabbi to be incognito in Tyre and Sidon.  Because he wasn’t Canaanite. Jesus was an Israelite, a Jew, a Rabbi. And he probably stood out. He probably didn’t look or dress the like the Canaanites of the area.

He certainly caught the attention of one woman, who recognized Jesus right away.  This woman, described as Syrophoenician in this text, and Canaanite in others, was Gentile, she was from the area, she spoke Greek, and she knew all about Israelite men.    She knew of the long standing rivalry between Canaanites and Israelites, going back thousands of years to the time when Moses sent the Israelites into the promised land, a land flowing with milk and honey, and a land that happened to be already inhabited by Canaanites.  

This woman knew that an Israelite man would take one look at her, and determine that he was better than she was, simply because of this conflict–inscribed into Israelite mythology–that went back millenia.  It’s not something that Jesus was conscious of, but it was taught to his parents and their parents and theirs. This feeling of superiority went way back.

But this woman was desperate–her daughter was sick, and when your kid is sick or hurting, you do desperate things for them.  

So she went to Jesus, who looked out of place, but who she thought she recognized, and asked him to heal her daughter.  

Desperate words from a desperate woman.  

Now, I’ve preached from this text pretty regularly.  It’s one of my favorite stories. Each gospel tells it a little differently, but the common factor in this story is that Jesus’ ministry changed because Jesus met this woman.  What started out as a reform movement for Judaism, became a movement that included all people–and, I believe that his ministry pivoted around this encounter.

Everything for Jesus changed after this encounter with the Canaanite woman.  Jesus began to hang out with non-Jews, he began to heal them, to eat with them, to share life with them.  All because this Gentile woman asked Jesus to heal her daughter.

I want to be careful here not to overlook the details of this encounter.  Because it wasn’t an easy one for Jesus or the Canaanite woman. Because Jesus said some mean, un-thinking words to the woman.  He compared her to a dog.

And the woman–even though she’s desperate for help–does not take this remark silently.  She gave Jesus a comeback that changed his ministry. When Jesus called her a dog, she replied, “Even the dogs get the crumbs from the table.”  Even we Canaanites deserve a little something, Jesus.  We Canaanites are human, you know. We are more than the savage stories written in your holy book.

When I read this story–and it comes up in preaching every year–I notice the bravery of this woman.  That’s important.

And I also notice that Jesus didn’t get indignant when this woman corrected him.  He wasn’t mad. He didn’t say, “I didn’t mean it like that”, or “I don’t think you understood what I was saying,” or “Why does everyone have to be so politically correct nowadays.”  He didn’t say, “Give me a break, lady, I’m working on my stuff.” or “You Canaanites are so touchy.” He heard her correction. He received her admonition. And he changed course because of it.  

Jesus changed because this woman, this foreigner, called him out.  

This call out from Jesus has me reflecting on these last decades here at Germantown.  I’ve certainly received my fair share of call outs from you, from colleagues, from friends and family. I’ve been working on being grateful for them all.  I certainly haven’t always taken them kindly. Some of them have made me angry, hurt my feelings and left me reeling for days and even weeks.

But in the end, these call outs have shown me my growing edges, have forced me to at least consider change, rather than digging in my heels.  

And let’s face it, we cannot grow until we encounter other world views and perspectives that shake our own assumptions, that challenge the dominant, supersessionist language we use, and that force us to change.  

The first queer people I met in college forced me to change.  When one friend came out to me, and asked me, with tears in her eyes, “Am I going to hell because I love another woman?”, I had to change how I read the scripture, and how I understood love and desire.

When I met Jewish folks that called me out on the anti-semetic ways I read the text, I had to change how I read the scripture, and how I talked about other religious groups.  

My first encounter with a Palestinian man happened here in this church, when we hosted Christian Peacemaker Teams meetings here in 2011.  He reflected on the ways that Christian Zionism has made life difficult for his people on the other side of the world. I had to change.

Those behavior and perspective changes mean that life can’t go on as usual.  I had to live differently because of this.

Jesus took the criticism of the woman.  Because, she was right. There’s never a good or right reason to compare someone to an animal, to dehumanize them.  

In fact, Jesus went as far as to say that this woman’s child had been healed because she called out Jesus.  Jesus changed, this woman’s daughter was healed, and Jesus’ ministry turn a turn towards inclusion.

But this isn’t the end of the story.  We read in the next story about how Jesus changed.  

When Jesus left the region where he met this Canaanite woman, Jesus met more people that needed healing.  And Jesus didn’t turn them away. In fact, Jesus, so transformed and moved by the encounter with the Canaanite woman, that he healed one person by putting his fingers in their ears, and uttering to the heavens “Ephphatha”, which means “be opened.”

This word, Ephphatha, is a Greek form of Aramaic, a language certainly used by the Canaanite woman.  Jesus is so transformed by his encounter with the Canaanite woman, that he used her language, her dialect, to call out to their God.  

This is no magic word.  In fact, I wonder if this word is a reminder to Jesus that he must stay open.  He must be opened by the encounters he has with those he met. In opening the ears of that person, Jesus himself knew how much more open his heart, his ears, his eyes and his mind needed to be as his ministry continued.  

Be opened.  Stay opened.  Ephphatha.

Our inclinations in difficult encounters is to be closed, to protect ourselves from criticism, to save face and avoid looking like a jerk.  

But what if we did the more difficult thing.  What if we called ourselves to Be Opened. What if we called out to God for an openness, a willingness to change, a desire to be moved in an unknown direction.  

Jesus was challenged by a foreign woman to see the work of God as bigger than just for the Israelites.  She asked Jesus to see her humanity, to see that God’s love was for the Canaanites, the Kushites, the Midionites, the Romans, the Greeks, the colonized, the colonizers, the poor, the rich, the included and excluded.

Jesus saw in this encounter that he had a bigger project than he had even anticipated.  And he took it on. He learned from his mistakes. He healed those he encountered. And he called on God–Ephphatha. Be opened.  Stay opened.

Let us too be opened to call outs, because they show us our boundaries and limits.  And they may even show us those places where we are being pushed. Ephphatha. Be. opened. Stay Opened. AMEN.