They
Brought Him to Jesus
Sermon based on Mark 7:24-37
by Rev. Rick Thompson
The
going was getting tougher and tougher for Jesus.
His family—they had turned against him.
The disciples—his inner circle—were slow to comprehend. Again and again,
we read the narrator's comment, “They did not understand,” or we hear Jesus
asking them directly, “Do you not yet understand?”
The hometown folk rejected him when he taught in the synagogue at Nazareth.
The religious leaders were so fed up with Jesus that they were already trying to
get rid of him—like King Herod had gotten rid of John the Baptist.
It seemed as if everyone was having a struggle with Jesus—at least
everyone among God's ancient people, Israel.
So Jesus tried a new strategy.
Since his own people—the ones he first invited into his mission—had demonstrated
their reluctance, he moved into territory considered off-limits to any
self-respecting, tradition-honoring Jew.
Jesus went to Tyre—in the modern nation of Lebanon.
And there he's approached by a Gentile woman, one with a troubled daughter.
Even beyond the borders of Israel, she's heard about Jesus, and she asks him to
cast the demon out of her daughter. After a pointed exchange with Jesus,
she finally is granted what she longs for. Jesus acknowledges her faith,
and, with just a word, he heals the woman's daughter.
Jesus moved to another area—the cities of the Decapolis, still in Gentile
territory, beyond the Sea of Galilee.
And while he's there, some people brought a troubled man to Jesus. They
apparently were not Jews, but they brought the man to Jesus. They had
heard about Jesus, and thought maybe he could help. Their friend was deaf,
and, like many people with profound hearing loss, could not speak clearly,
either.
And Jesus had compassion on the man. Privately, so as not to make him a
spectacle, Jesus put his fingers in the man's ears. Then he spat, and
touched the man's tongue. Jesus sighed a deep, groaning prayer on the
man's behalf: “Ephphatha—be opened!” The compassion, the touch, the
spitting, the prayer—they worked!
Miraculously, the man was able to hear, able to speak, and, for the first time
ever, able to think of himself as a complete human being!
And they could not stop marveling about what they had seen, even though Jesus
had sternly warned them not to say a word. It was so exciting and new,
they could not keep silent. “Did you hear what Jesus did today?
You'll never guess what
I saw today! Jesus has done everything well!” There
was a buzz of excitement—perhaps not full faith in Jesus, but astonishment at
what he had done—and the word spread quickly and rapidly. What a display
of compassion and power they had seen!
So how could they not tell, even if Jesus had ordered them to be silent?
That command—“tell no one”—appears frequently in Mark's Gospel, usually after
some amazing deed of Jesus—a miracle, or the casting out of a demon.
Readers and scholars of Mark's gospel have puzzled over it for generations.
Most have concluded it's a reminder to the reader: there's more yet to come.
You don't understand Jesus completely if you've only heard of his mighty deeds
and powerful teachings. You won't understand Jesus completely until
you read of his death—that horrible, excruciating death on a cross. You
won't understand Jesus completely until you've heard the most amazing
thing of all:
that the crucified one is brought back to life, and goes before his followers
into the world!
That's
what
Jesus wanted people to see. That's what he wanted people to tell!
Then it would be perfectly clear. Then the truth, only hinted at earlier,
would be revealed: Jesus exercises divine power by dying! Dying with a
love so vulnerable that it risks the ultimate rejection. Dying with a
compassion so deep that not even death can stop it! Dying with a faith so
certain that nothing could shake it! Dying, yet so full of life that not
even death could keep Jesus down!
By
willingly embracing suffering and death, and overcoming them in his glorious
resurrection, Jesus embodied and revealed a profound truth: that the compassion
of God and the life-giving power of God are held by no boundaries—not the
boundary between Jew and Gentile, and not even the boundary of death!
This
is the
Jesus whom some anonymous persons in the story are convinced and hopeful
that Jesus can help the man. They had heard of Jesus' power, and
now
they saw it for themselves—as Jesus restored the man's hearing and speech.
“They brought him to Jesus,” Mark writes.
And who are “they”?
We aren't really told. Are they family of the man? His friends? They
aren't clearly identified. And maybe it's intended to be that way.
Maybe “they” are the ones who know Jesus' power, and faithfully respond to it.
Maybe “they are all of those—past and present—who believe in Jesus, who trust
Jesus, who know that he can help in time of need.
Maybe “they” are intended to stand for all of the readers of Mark's
gospel—including you and I.
“They” in this story are people of incredible faith. Jesus hasn't been in
their territory for long. They don't know much about him—but they know
enough to bring a man who needs help to Jesus. They know enough to beg
Jesus to relieve the man's suffering. They know that the suffering, dying
one, is Savior and Lord of all, the one who breaks into the world with the power
of God, the one who can set them free—them, and all who are troubled by sin and
sickness and death.
“They brought the man to Jesus.”
And Alex brought Mark.
Like the anonymous persons in the Gospel story, Alex brought Mark to Jesus.
Things had not been going well for Mark—at work, or at home. At work, Alex
had been getting overlooked every time there was a big project guaranteed to
bring the company a handsome profit. No project, no bonus. Most of
his co-workers nodded or greeted him politely, but whenever he approached a
group that was joking and laughing, the group quickly broke up. And now,
there were rumors of lay-offs coming. Mark knew what that meant; he knew,
if that happened, he would be one of the first to go.
And that wasn't all. He and his wife were fighting all the time—mostly
about money. And his kids didn't seem to like him any more: they didn't
want to spend any time with Dad—and Mark, on the other hand, rarely had time for
their events and activities.
Mark was really discouraged and depressed.
There was one person at work—Alex—who seemed to care about Mark.
Alex was friendly. Alex listened when Mark talked about his loneliness and
how depressed he felt. Alex even offered to listen to Mark any time,
day or night, when Mark felt overwhelmed by it all.
And the day he got his pink slip, Mark accepted Alex's offer. “Now what do
I do?” Mark moaned. “How will I tell my wife? How will I get another
job? I've been messing up all my life; will I ever amount to anything?”
“Well, I know something who thinks you're worth an awful lot,” Alex responded.
“Oh, yeah? Who could possibly care about me?” Mark lamented.
“Mark, I think you know that I'm a church-goer,” Alex continued. “And
there's a reason why I go to church. It's because I meet Jesus there.
And I believe that Jesus cares so much for every one of us—you,
me, your family, this whole world—that he even died for us. So,
whaddya say, Mark? Would you like to come to church with me? Would
you like to get acquainted with Jesus?”
“Well….maybe…some Sunday,” Mark replied.
Their friendship continued. And, after several invitations, Mark did
go with Alex to worship. And he did get a glimpse of the
compassionate and loving Jesus Alex told him about. And he went back for
me. And, after some months, he discovered that, even though life was still
difficult and full of obstacles, he wasn't so angry or lonely or depressed any more.[i]
Alex brought Mark to Jesus. The people in the story brought the
deaf, speech-impaired man to Jesus.
And I wonder if that could be written of us, who know the story, who have
seen and heard of the power and mercy of Jesus?
When people of all ages to hear and learn about Jesus, and they come to this
church longing to know life in Jesus, will it be said of us—“They brought them
to Jesus?”
“When the lonely, and the sick, and the suffering, and the dying are looking for
comfort and peace, will it be said of us—“They brought them to Jesus?”
When those who have lost their way in life, or those who have never heard of
Jesus, those who have never known God's power and love and forgiveness come to
us, begging for direction and hope, will it be said of us—“They brought them to
Jesus?”
When victims of injustice and hatred long for a reason to go on living with
hope, when the hungry and the homeless wonder if and when they will ever be
treated with compassion, will it be said of us—“They brought them to Jesus?”
Like the people in the story. Like Alex with Mark. Will we
bring people to Jesus?
After all, we've seen his power. We've heard the story. We've know
his love and forgiveness. We've been made whole by the cross and
resurrection of Jesus.
So how, then can we do any less, when people long to know the love and
compassion and power of God?
How can we do any less than the people in the story, and Alex?
What else can we do?
Surely, we'll bring them to Jesus!
AMEN.