16th after Pentecost The Wow Factor
September 8, 2024, Wolf Kirchmeir
[Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23; Psalm 125; James 2:1-10, (11-13), 14-17; Mark 7:24-37]
Today’s gospel is on of many that tells us of miracles. Just what is a miracle? That’s not as easy to answer as it looks. What looks like a miracle could just be coincidence.
Fact is, the concept is kind of fuzzy. The word originally just meant something to wonder at, something amazing. The German word for miracle is “Wunder”, which also means “wonder” or “marvel”, something amazing in English.
And we do often use the word to emphasize that something is amazing, as in the miracle of modern medicine.
Sometimes miracle just means that we can’t explain some extraordinary event.
Sometimes what looks like a miracle isn’t a miracle at all. Here’s a story about that:
One day while a cowboy was building a barn, he lost his favourite book. A week later, one of his horses came up to him holding the book in its mouth. The cowboy was stunned. He took the book from the horse and said, “It’s a miracle!”
“Not exactly,” said the horse. “Your name is written inside.”
Today we’ve heard about two miracles of healing. In the first, a Greek woman asks Jesus to heal her sick daughter. In the second, friends of a deaf man ask Jesus to heal him. In the first, Jesus at first refuses the woman’s request, and implies that as a Greek she doesn’t deserve his healing power. In the second, Jesus takes the deaf man away from the crowd before he heals him. In the first, Jesus agrees to heal the woman’s daughter after she has argued that, like the dogs under the table, she deserves to have the leftovers. Jesus likes the argument and heals her daughter. In the second, it’s the pleading of the deaf man’s friends that moves Jesus to heal him.
At first glance, these two miracles may look like a couple of random events retold for no reason other than that they happened to be recorded in the manuscripts that Mark used to compile his Gospel. They could just as well have been left out. After all, Jesus ministry lasted three years. Most of what he did during that time has not been recorded. The Gospels are not a day-by-day chronicle.
So I think that we should pay attention to what may seem like unimportant details. Because if they were unimportant, they would not have been included.
In this case, what caught my eye was how Mark introduced these two miracle stories. I think that if we take a look at the opening and closing of this section of Mark’s gospel, we’ll find a clue.
Mark begins by telling us that Jesus left that place and went to the vicinity of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet he could not keep his presence secret. [Mk7:24] And Mark ends his account with Jesus commanded them not to tell anyone. But the more he did so, the more they kept talking about it. People were overwhelmed with amazement. “He has done everything well,” they said. “He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.” [Mk7:36-37]
This is not the only place that Mark reports that Jesus didn’t want a lot of talk about the miracles. He was happy to heal people. But he didn’t want people to do what Mark tells us they did: they were amazed that He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.
The crowds paid a lot of attention to the miracles. Somehow, that attention was misplaced. Jesus didn’t come into the world to work wonders. He didn’t travel around to amaze people. He didn’t want the crowds to come just because he did astonishing things. He didn’t want to be a spectacle.
In modern terms, he didn’t a want to be the subject of a video on Instagram or TikTok. He didn’t want the Wow Factor.
Nowadays, just as back when Jesus walked around healing people, the most common reaction to something extraordinary is Wow! Amazing! LOL!
And when it’s uploaded to TikTok or Instagram, that Wow! reaction spreads. We say it goes viral.
That makes it sound like a disease.
And it is a kind of disease. It’s the disease of wanting distraction. We like novelty. We like surprises. We like being amazed. We crave excitement. We want to be distracted.
Jesus knew that. He knew it better than we do. He knew it from the inside, like we do. But his knowledge wasn’t obscured or fudged or veiled by our tendency to avoid ‘fessing up to unseemly emotions.
And Wow! Amazing! LOL! is sometimes an unseemly emotion. For example, when we see video about some silly accident. Even accidents in which people are hurt.
LOL!
Laugh Out Loud!
Laugh at what?
Wow! Amazing! LOL! seems like a rather inadequate response when you stop to think about all the harm and trouble that silly accident caused.
But we usually don’t stop to think. Wow! Amazing! LOL! is often where it ends. A brief jolt of excitement, and we turn our attention to something else, hoping for another jolt. Anything to distract us from our daily round of obligations and chores, and another frustrating admission that we can’t have everything what we want.
It’s the Wow Factor at work.
Jesus rejected the Wow Factor. Mark in several places tells us that Jesus was at least somewhat impatient with the crowds who wanted him to perform miracles. He wanted something else from the people who came to wonder at him. He wanted the right kind of attention. He wanted the people to listen to his message.
The miracles should be understood as part of his message. He wanted them to stop and think
He wants us to stop and think, too.
What is there to learn from Jesus’s miracles?
First, they are examples of his compassion. The very first one saved a bridegroom from the embarrassment of not having enough wine for his guests. Jesus goes on to heal the sick and the lame and the blind. He heals lepers. He feeds five thousand people. He raises Lazarus from the dead. He calms the storm that threatens to sink the boat.
We know the stories.
Let’s look at the miracles from another angle. Jesus tells many parables. Suppose we look at a miracle story as a kind of parable, a story included in the Gospel, told to teach a lesson. What lessons can we draw from the two miracles we heard about today?
Begin with the Syrian woman who asks Jesus to heal her daughter. Jesus at first refuses her request, saying that the children of the house have the first claim on the food provided. The woman replies that even the dogs are allowed to pick up the crumbs that fall from the table. Jesus is pleased with her answer. Why? What is it in her argument that pleases him?
First, it’s clever. The woman accepts Jesus’s argument, and then extends it to show that it’s not only the children who deserve the food. Even the dogs are allowed to scavenge for the crumbs that fall from the table. Dogs back then were not the adored pets that they are these days. Back then, they ranked just slightly above pigs. The Syrian woman’s point includes the unspoken claim that she ranked higher than the dogs.
Second, it displays trust. The woman trusts that Jesus will listen to her argument, and reconsider her plea. She trusts him to treat her as a human being with the same legitimate claim on his compassion as anybody else. She believes not only that Jesus can heal her daughter, she also believes that he will do so. Why? Because she has made a good case.
Jesus is pleased with her argument. It appeals to his insight and his compassion. And above all, it demonstrates her absolute conviction that will do what is right. He grants her request.
Now consider the miracle of the deaf man the speech impediment. What impresses the people is that Jesus makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.
We don’t know how bad the deaf man’s hearing was, but the reference to his garbled speech suggests that he could hear well enough to imitate what he did hear, but not well enough to communicate clearly.
What will the deaf man hear now? What will he speak? He will hear the words of his family and friends, the words that make him a part of their community. He will speak the words that connect him to family and friends. We are social creatures, we need social connection. We need each other’s love. Jesus strengthened the bonds of love for the deaf man.
When I set these two miracles beside each other, I wonder what we hear and what we speak.
Do we hear the cries for justice? Do we speak for those who suffer?
Do we hear the loneliness of the friendless? Do we speak words of friendship?
Do we hear the pleas of the hungry? Do we speak words of invitation to the feast?
Do we, like Jesus, answer when we hear Help me!
Do we accept the trust that we will do the right thing?
Let us pray,
Lord Jesus, grant us the grace not only to hear the cries for justice and peace, but also the will and the ability to answer them as you have done. We ask this trusting that you will answer our prayers as will be best for us. Amen.