Thirteenth Pentecost
Mark 7:24-37; James 2:1-17; Proverbs 21:1-2,
8-9, 22-23
One of the first jobs I ever had was being a paperboy. In the Minnesota town where I grew up there were really only two newspapers to deliver—the local paper was the Albert Lea Tribune delivered six days a week—a nice little paper. But I delivered the Minneapolis Star and Tribune—seven days a week—with a Sunday paper that was easily 5 times thicker then the local paper. As a paperboy I delivered each morning edition paper to the customer’s door—often placing it between the storm door and the interior door. But you not only delivered the paper—you also collected every other week the subscription price to pay for your papers. In my day the daily paper was 35 cents a week and the Sunday paper was 20 cents. I would go knocking on my customer’s doors every two weeks to collect my 70 cents for the weekly or 40 cents for the Sunday paper. I would knock on the door and when someone answered I would say, “Collect”. Every paper boy has stories to tell about knocking on the door and the responses you would get—the strangest ones were the homes where you could see the lights on inside and hear voices but no one would come to the door—no matter how many times I knocked or rang the door bell there would be no answer—sometimes the sound of the radio would suddenly disappear and a front curtain might move a little as I caught a glimpse of someone sneaking a look out the window to see who was knocking—but the door never opened. Standing in the cold and dark of a Minnesota winter evening waiting in vain for the door to be opened—some memories never fade. And then there were the Christiansons—they lived in a smaller house on Johnson Street.
When I first took over the paper route from the kid who had it before me—he took me on the route with him to show me the ropes. As we rode up to the Christianson house he said, “Now watch me.” He got off his bike started waving his arms over his head while he jogged up the driveway along the side of the house—he took kind of long bounding strides as if he were trying to get airborne and kept waving his arms over his head jumping especially high as he went by the side of the house and the windows that looked out on the driveway. When he reached the back of the house he turned around and did the same thing coming back down the driveway to the street. “What are you doing?” I asked him. “Getting their attention,” he replied. “The Christiansons are both deaf so it doesn’t do any good to knock on the door or ring the doorbell—but they usually notice someone leaping up their driveway waving their arms.” Then he added, “But you do need to be sure to collect from them before dark especially in the winter time or they’ll never see you outside.” Brad taught me a number of things about knocking on doors and being a paper boy but he lacked creative insight in dealing with a deaf couple. I got to know the Christiansons quite well—and I came to prefer collecting at their house after dark—I carried a flashlight after dark to be able to read by collection book—and I quickly discovered that all it took was a flick or two of my flashlight at their front window and they would open the front door every time. Getting someone to open a door—As a mission pastor for our Lutheran church I learned that that can be a real art. To go out and invite people to come visit your church was one of the basic tenants of a mission pastor when I entered the ministry—and we were taught certain ways to knock on the door and when ring door bells. There were definite does and don’ts if you hoped to have any success at getting the door opened—When knocking on the door you always used your hand—never a clip board or other object you might be carrying—Never ring a door bell during times that might be a young child’s nap time—always knock—you are less likely to wake the child and upset the parent. And after you knock or ring the doorbell—step back from the door at least one step when someone begins to open the door so they know you are no threat. This also often draws them out the door a little way and commits them more quickly to conversation with you. If at all possible—hand them something like a flyer or information brochure so they do not have to maintain eye contact with you unless they want to.
I also learned as a pastor on the South side of Chicago that it was usually a good idea to wear my clergy collar when canvassing a new neighborhood—in those days in the urban community a clergy collar was seen as a sign of someone who it was safe to unlock your door—and maybe your life—to. To get the door opened—to get your foot in the door—In our gospel lesson for today we encounter an incident where Jesus would a appear to be striving to keep the door closed—he doesn’t have much luck. At the same time the gospel writer seems to be trying to help us understand the importance and meaning of the gospel opening our lives. The setting for our gospel lesson strikes me at first glance like something that should probably be on the E-television network. The celebrity who tries to be inconspicuous—who just wants a quiet little get away but instead is discovered. Jesus has withdrawn after his busy schedule of calling disciples, performing miracles and battling to redefine some religious categories of his day into the region of Tyre. Jesus retreats and the story shifts to how an unexpected guest gains entry and audience with him. Those familiar with this story know what scholars love to repeat about the woman who comes to Jesus—She has just about everything going against her that the culture and socio-economic system of her day could produce. We are told that the one who comes knocking is a gentile and a female which made this woman automatically unclean and unacceptable for conversation with a Jewish man. Further more she is identified as “syrophoenecian” which associates her with Phoenicia and the ancient struggles Israel had with a foreign religion that was known especially for its temple prostitution—the woman was clearly from the seamier side of the city. She approaches a man she does not know and to whom she has no known relation and her concern is for a daughter. Sons were the focus of family hopes—and on top of this the girl is possessed by an “unclean” spirit. If Jesus wanted to ignore the knocking at his door he would have had every reason. He does attempt to dissuade her with what for its day was actually a rather politically correct dismissal—but she has an answer for every thing. Jesus tells her he should not give the good gifts to the dogs—but the woman replies that even the dogs get a few crumbs from the table—In essence she says that surely there is enough God for everyone—And Jesus knows she is right—He heals the girl. At this point Jesus realizes that hiding out in Tyre is a ridiculous idea—so he heads back toward his home base around the Sea of Galilee—it’s back to business in the bright light of miracle working.
Only the first miracle Jesus is called upon to perform is not a result of some one seeking healing because of what has been publicized and proclaimed—the man brought to Jesus has heard nothing about Jesus—the man is deaf. He is brought by his friends—I often wonder at what moved the deaf man’s friends to being him to Jesus—and what must the deaf man have thought. I can almost imagine his friends trying to communicate to him—“Trust us—You are going to love this—it will change your life.” I get mail with ads like that all the time—but I know better. Our communities have almost eliminated the door to door sales person but we certainly get our share of telephone solicitations—of course that is changing too—before long the phones may fall as silent as our door bells—next will come the spam and intermet—we keep finding better and better ways to keep the doors round us closed. We have become a people suspicious of the knock on our door—we screen the telephone—we filter our coffee and e-mail. The medical miracle sought by those who came knocking on Jesus’ door would be a lot harder to come by today—It is just plain harder to gain access to the medical services needed or desired—harder still to believe that a miracle will actually touch our lives. That is the real power of the stories in our Gospel for today—Jesus proclaims “Ephphatha”—be opened—And it is not just that a deaf man could hear—it is that the whole world was opened to him and his friends who had brought him discovered that they had opened the door to a miracle—an unexplained in breaking of God’s grace—Ephphatha—to be so open to God’s grace that a greatest hope and dream is fulfilled. What would that be like.
We all have parts of our lives that are closed—sealed—locked down—hidden away. If suddenly that part of our lives were opened up—would we rejoice or would we weep. Openness carries with it many risks that not everyone is willing to embrace—sometimes it is easier and safer to lock the world out.—To trust others enough to let the door can be opened can lead to pain and suffering—but so can keeping the door locked. This year the security precautions imposed on our country have locked out thousands of refugees who would have normally been given new hope and life in America. Refugees of famine and wars in other parts of the world—Refugees for whom our Lutheran immigration and refugee agency—one of the largest in this country—has been unable to get papers processed—Even for people trapped in horrendous conditions of disease and starvation—people who we have sponsoring families for in our Lutheran congregations—but the executive decisions of agencies of our government are unwilling to allow for the church to witness to human love and compassion when there is power to be achieved by the control and manipulation of people’s lives. It is not easy to be open to the truths of our world that would lead us in new directions. To be opened—How the deaf man’s world must have changed—He could hear the birds chirp and the child sing—He could also hear the dog growl and bark and the mother weep—To be opened is not all joy—nor is it all pain—It is the new possibility—That is what God’s grace is all about—Doors are not intended to be opened only one time.
Doors are opened again and again—so with our lives. There are repeated declarations of “Ephphtha”—there are repeated moments of grace declared—encountered—embraced. The meal offered this morning is not the only meal we will ever need to eat—It is offered repeatedly to remind us of how God opens new doors to us every day. We could not have planned a more appropriate text for this church rally day when our theme is “God opens new doors.” Ephphatha—be opened—that is what today is about. We are beginning on a very practical and functional level—the opening of our new education spaces. But the real opening is to the Spirit’s leading. Tomorrow evening the church council will meet in new spaces to explore new opportunities to proclaim the gospel—to bring wholeness to our community and the world—to strengthen the faith of those who gather here and send them forth knocking on doors. That, to me, is the most frightening and exciting part of this day. The word was getting out—and people came knocking at Jesus’ door—That still happens—not only in a telephone call asking for more information about our ministry—but in the witness of our many members who live the gospel every day in what they say and do.—Opening doors—faithfully—faith filled. That is what today is about—God opening new doors—God leading us in new directions—the power of Jesus command touching our lives—Ephphatha—Be opened. Sometimes all we have to do is notice that someone is trying to get our attention—Someone standing at the door knocking—standing where he has stood for 2000 years. And if you listen closely you can hear him again pronounce—Ephphatha—be opened.
Amen.