This sermon was preached at Glenwood and Canoe Ridge Lutheran Churches, Decorah, Iowa, on September 9, 2018. It’s based on Mark 7:24-37. If you’d prefer to listen to it, find it at https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson.
Mark 7:24-37
24Jesus 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,25but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. 26Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. 27He 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.” 28But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” 29Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” 30So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
31Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. 32They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. 33He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. 34Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” 35And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. 36Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. 37They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
I want to know more about this mom–my hero.
The narrator gives us what he deems sufficient information.
She has a little daughter who has an unclean spirit. How old is the girl? How long has she been suffering? Does she have siblings, brothers and sisters who can’t understand? What does that unclean spirit do to her? Is she awake at night? Does she harm herself? Or others? How long has her mom been looking for help? How long has she been suffering? What remedies has she tried, full of hope, only to be crushed yet again?
She heard about Jesus. How? Who told her? What did they say? Did she hear about his very first healing, in the synagogue at Capernaum? Did she hear how he rebuked an unclean spirit that had taken up residence in a man? Did she hear how that spirit came out of the man at Jesus’ command? Did she immediately imagine Jesus doing the same for her little daughter? Did her heart swell with hope? Did she dare to hope?
She was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. Did she wonder if this Jewish teacher would be willing to help her? Did she anticipate that it would be a struggle to convince him to heal her daughter? Did she recognize that her culture and her ethnicity—things over which she had no control—would make her easy to ignore? Easy to dismiss?
I would ask what compelled her to seek out help from such an unlikely source—a man, a Jew, one with whom she shared nothing in common—but I think I know the answer. She has a little daughter who has an unclean spirit. She’s a mom to a sick child. And she’s fierce in her love for that child, that precious baby girl. And nothing—nothing—is going to stop her from doing everything in her power to heal her daughter.
She left her pride at the door. She ignored any backlash she might face from friends and family who would never understand. She set aside her own doubts and her own misgivings. She entered that house with only her daughter on her mind and in her heart. She bowed down at the feet of a man she had only heard about, and she begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter.
And he said, Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.
He confirmed her worst fears. She wasn’t welcome. She wouldn’t be heard. She wouldn’t be received. Her daughter wouldn’t be helped. Because he had to take care of his own first. And she wasn’t one of them.
Did so many scenarios run through her head in that moment before she responded to Jesus? Did she imagine standing up and simply leaving, turning her back on the last remaining hope for her daughter? Did she imagine responding with anger, demanding to be seen as a beloved child, worthy of love and respect? Did she imagine breaking down in tears, inconsolable? Did she picture her daughter, at home in bed, helpless, desperate?
She responded as she had to in that moment—her only choice, really, as a mother, willing to do whatever it took for the sake of her child. She swallowed her pride again.
She didn’t argue her case for being a child at the table. Instead, she argued what she desperately needed to be true: there is enough at the table for us all, children and dogs alike. There is enough at the table for us all, now. You, Jesus, are enough for us all, now. You, Jesus, are enough for the whole world, for me, for my daughter, now.
Be strong. Do not fear. You are here. You are our God. Now. (Isaiah 35:4)
The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down. Now. (Psalm 146:8)
God has chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith. Now. (James 2:5)
Then Jesus said to her, For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.
A mother’s words compelled God’s Word made flesh.
For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.
No more children first.
No more distinction between children at the table and dogs waiting for crumbs.
Only beloved ones. Only Jesus responding to the desperate pleas of all God’s people.
A mother heard, received.
A daughter helped, healed.
A Savior changed, his mind and mission opened.
God’s fierce, motherly love at work through this mother to save and to bless the whole world.
There are mothers today through whom God is at work, mothers today compelling us to act now for all God’s beloved children. Mothers, like Nancy Frates, whose son, Peter, was diagnosed with ALS at age 27. Nancy and her family spearheaded the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, which raised over $115 million for ALS research. But in her TED talk, she describes a scene that reminds me so much of our mother in today’s gospel story.1
These are Nancy’s words:
Six months after diagnosis, Pete was given an award at a research summit for advocacy. He got up and gave a very eloquent speech, and at the end of the speech, there was a panel, and on the panel were these pharmaceutical executives and biochemists and clinicians and I’m sitting there and I’m listening to them…and they were saying, “I, I do this, I do that,” and there was a real unfamiliarity between them. So at the end of their talk, the panel, they had questions and answers, and boom, my hand went right up, and I get the microphone, and I look at them and I say, “Thank you. Thank you so much for working in ALS. It means so very much to us.” I said, “But I do have to tell you that I’m watching your body language and I’m listening to what you’re saying. It just doesn’t seem like there’s a whole lot of collaboration going on here. And not only that, where’s the flip chart with the action items and the follow-up and the accountability? What are you going to do after you leave this room?”
And then I turned around and there were about 200 pairs of eyes just staring at me. And it was at that point that I realized that I had talked about the elephant in the room. Thus my mission had begun.
Nancy concluded her TED talk with this, If you ever come across a situation that you see as so unacceptable, I want you to dig down as deep as you can and find your best mother bear and go after it…My son has given me…my mission in life. Now I know why I’m here. I’m going to save my son, and if it doesn’t happen in time for him, I’m going to work so that no other mother has to go through what I’m going through.
There is enough hope and healing and justice and mercy for us all. Now.
Let us pray. Lord, use our fierce love for our children to be your hands, and feet, and heart in the world. Use our fierce love for our children to work for hope and healing and justice and mercy for all, even if it means naming the elephant in the room. Use our fierce love for our children to welcome all your beloved to your table of grace. Amen.
1Listen to Nancy Frates’ entire TED talk at https://www.ted.com.