The Saving King
The saving King
Mark 7.24-37
I play basketball on Sunday afternoons
It’s a humbling thing to be running around with 20 something year olds as an older guy
Anyway, last Sunday, the other team was a no-show, so they forfeited, and we ended up playing with the refs
To make the teams, we appointed two captains who took turns between them picking who they wanted on their team
Man, it was like being in high school all over again
I was never the tallest guy, the fastest, the strongest, or the most skilful
I’m still not
So for me, I was re-living some deep childhood insecurities
Not wanting to be the last one to get picked
There’s no one else to pick from and so they reluctantly pick you
But today, as we continue our series in Mark, we’ll see who Jesus picks to be on his team.
Have you ever wondered if Jesus has a type?
Are there particular kinds of people that Jesus saves?
Do they share particular traits or characteristics in common?
Those are the questions we’re asking this morning, and what we’ll see is that Jesus picks the people we might least expect.
1. The unworthy
2. The unable
And we start with the first group: The unworthy.
Today, we see a bit of a shift in Jesus’ ministry
Jesus leaves the predominantly Jewish areas he’s been spending a lot of his time in and he goes into largely Gentile territories
See there
24 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. 25 In fact, as soon as she heard about him, a woman whose little daughter was possessed by an impure spirit came and fell at his feet.
Until now, it’s been non-stop
People have been coming from everywhere trying to get to Jesus and catch a glimpse of him
But it hasn’t all been smooth sailing
Jesus has upset some people along the way, including the religious leaders of the day
And so, Jesus tries to get some time away from the crowds, but, of course, it doesn’t take long before he gets noticed.
A Gentile woman comes to Jesus, desperate for him to help her daughter
See there
26 The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter.
Why is Mark telling us this?
Why does it matter what language the woman speaks, where she was born, and who her daughter is?
Because this is Mark’s way of alerting us to the fact that she shouldn’t be here.
I mean, who does this woman think she is?
What makes her think that she can just walk right up to Jesus and ask for help?
What right does a Gentile, born in a pagan area, who has a daughter with an impure spirit, have to be anywhere near Jesus, let alone ask him for help?
Now you might say, what’s the big deal?
That seems a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?
But it’s a very big deal if you’re a Jew.
Because for the woman’s daughter to have an impure spirit, ‘impure’ or ‘unclean’ in the sense that the spirit is evil, demonic, this excludes her daughter and anyone who has had any contact with her, including the mother, from coming anywhere near a Jew, lest they become ritually or ceremonially unclean, too
Everything about this woman is wrong
What is she doing here?
Even Jesus seems to reject her
See there
27 “First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”
In some ways, it’s not the response maybe we were expecting.
Jesus doesn’t exactly tell her to leave, but he explains using a parable or metaphor, that there’s a divine order or priority to his ministry.
Now, I know there are a lot of dog lovers here, but I’d like to think we can still agree that it’s right for the children to eat first, and only when they’ve had enough, do we give what’s leftover to the dogs, yes?
Well, in the same way, Jesus has come for the Jews, the children of Israel, first, and Gentiles, whom Jesus refers to here as ‘dogs’, deliberately using the offensive or derogatory term used by Jews to refer to Gentiles, second
It’s why he’s spent so much time so far in Jewish areas, in synagogues, teaching on the Sabbath, with Jews
It’s taken seven chapters for Jesus to finally get to the Gentiles
Jesus isn’t shutting down the woman, but he is saying to her, ‘It’s not your turn yet.’
You, Gentiles, will get your turn.
Just not yet.
But the woman won’t take no for an answer.
She’s shameless
I don’t care what other people say, or what you think of me
She presses Jesus and picks up on the one loophole or technicality in what Jesus has said.
28 “Lord,” she replied, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Brilliant.
The woman focuses on the word ‘first’ there back in 7.27 when Jesus says
27 “First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”
‘Ah, so as long as the Jews get to eat first, us Gentile dogs are still in with a chance?’
She’s like the persistent boy who just won’t take the hint that the girl is not interested, and he keeps coming back, asking the girl out, thinking that he’s in with a chance
‘Hey. So it’s been six months. Are you ready to go out now?’
‘Hey. So we’ve got to know each other a bit more. Will you be my girlfriend?’
Not that I have any experience in this, of course.
My wife, Kezia, said yes, straight away
But you know what?
I love this about the woman.
She’s persistent.
She won’t take no for an answer.
She knows she has no right to be here, let alone ask for Jesus’ help.
But she’s desperate.
And desperate parents will do anything for their children.
As we keep going, we see
29 Then he (Jesus) told her, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.” 30 She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
What do we learn here from the woman?
Well, I’m reminded of another parable Jesus told in Luke’s Gospel, Luke 18
10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ 13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ 14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Unlike the Pharisee who felt he had every reason to be there, look at what I have done, look at how great I am, I’m so wonderful and worthy … the tax collector in the parable can’t even look up to God
He knows he’s a sinner
And that’s the first thing
He’s under no illusions about his unworthiness
He knows he has no right to be here
He knows he shouldn’t have turned up today at the temple
And yet, he’s not so self-absorbed and wallowing in his own guilt that he doesn’t come
And this is important.
The tax collector still comes.
The second thing that’s important to notice is he appeals to God’s mercy.
Do you hear what he’s saying?
God, I know I’m not worthy, but if you would have mercy on me …
Do you see the difference?
The Pharisees talks about all the things that he’s done
I fast twice a week
I give a tenth of all I get
I’m not like those other sinners
But the tax collector beats his breast
He’d cheated, he’s lied, he’s stolen
He knows he’s a sinner
He knows he’s undeserving
But God, if you would show mercy to me …
It’s the same with the woman.
The woman knows she’s got no right to ask anything of Jesus
She knows she’s not of Israel
She knows she hasn’t got a leg to stand on
She knows she’s completely unworthy and undeserving
She doesn’t seek to bring up all the things she’s done
I’ve been a good person
I go to church once a year, for Christmas, sometimes twice, for Easter as well
I’m not perfect, but it’s not like I’ve murdered anyone
No. None of that.
And yet, she asks anyway.
She simply appeals to God’s mercy.
She does, as the song says,
My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
No merit of my own I claim
but wholly lean on Jesus' name.
And so, she goes right up to Jesus and says to him, ‘Toss me the crumbs. I don’t care. I’ll take anything I can get. But I want to eat now. Please, Jesus. Help my little girl.’
This is extraordinary faith and understanding.
I think for many of us, we’re more like the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable in Luke’s gospel, more than we are the tax collector, or even the woman here in Mark’s Gospel.
We have this impulse, as if we need to make ourselves worthy to come to God, or at least, we try to be anyway
There was an article in the Sydney Morning Herald, where Guy Sebastian, the first winner of reality TV show Australian Idol for those who maybe have never heard of him, he was sharing in an article, somewhat vulnerably, about his recent court experience
When Guy Sebastian found himself sobbing in a toilet cubicle of a NSW courtroom – where he was giving evidence against his former manager and friend, Titus Day – he began to pray. “Then I felt guilty,” says the musician as his wife, Jules, gently places her hand on his arm. “It was like, ‘Ah, I’ll just say a prayer when the S*&% hits the fan.’ I haven’t prayed for so long [and now I’m] just asking for help when things are rubbish.”
What is that?
I mean, the instinct to pray. We get that.
But what’s Guy’s guilt all about?
I think it comes from the mistaken assumption in all of us that we have to somehow make ourselves worthy to come to God, whether that’s by being a decent person, or as Guy seems to think, by praying regularly, so that I’m not one of those people who only come to God when you need something, which if you actually think about it, when don’t we come to God in a position of need?
When don’t we come in prayer and ask God for things?
We are completely dependent on God for all things
It’s right that we come to God needy
So, why all of a sudden, do we do what Guy does, which if we’re honest, isn’t a Guy thing at all
It’s there in all of us.
There is that something in us that wants to make ourselves worthy, justify our existence and our worth, make ourselves acceptable before God, come to God from a position of strength, not weakness or need, which is ridiculous
We all have our version of feeling like we need to clean ourselves up, be a certain way, have ticked certain things off a checklist, that feeling of having finally done enough, whatever ‘enough’ is, and then and only then can we come to God.
But Christianity is not about what we do, but what God has done in Jesus.
It’s not advice.
Here are ten things you need to do before God will accept you
Christianity is good news.
Here’s what God has done in Jesus
He took your place on the cross, faced God’s judgement and wrath for your sin, so that despite everything you’ve done, good or bad, God accepts you, loves you, adopts you as his son and daughter, and welcomes you into his Kingdom
Jesus saves the unworthy, the sinners, the lowly
That’s point one.
Point two: Jesus saves the unable.
I’m on a bit of a weight loss journey. I’m sure you can tell.
Lately, I’ll go out for lunch.
And whereas before, I’d order schnitzel and chips, fish and chips, burger and chips, pork belly, I shocked a few people at church lunch a while ago when I ordered a caesar salad.
I know, right?
You’re thinking, ‘No way. Impossible’.
I’m the same.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think there’d be schnitzel and chips and burger and chips on the menu, and I’d order salad
No lemon lime bitters.
I still can’t believe it, even now.
Who is this guy?
I’m that person now who orders grass and water.
In a similar way, maybe there are some people you know that you say about them, you just know, ‘They’re never going to be a Christian.’
Impossible.
It’d be unthinkable that they’d come to faith in Jesus.
Never in your wildest dreams would they ever become a Christian.
Well, that’s who Jesus meets next
See there from
31 Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and went through Sidon, down to the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the Decapolis. 32 There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged Jesus to place his hand on him.
If there was anyone who would be on the list of unlikely people to come into the Kingdom, this man would probably be on it.
If he can’t hear, how will he ever believe?
How can he?
It’s physically impossible.
And if he can’t speak, how will he ever confess that Jesus is Lord?
And yet, the reality is, as Jesus is about to show us, this is all of us.
It’s impossible for any of us to believe and confess Jesus as Lord apart from God’s work in us.
The fact that any of us hear the gospel and turn to Jesus to be saved, it’s a miracle that only God can make happen
Think about the example of the Apostle Paul
He was on the way to persecute Christians when Jesus met him on the road to Damascus, saying, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’
Paul is someone who you might say is the least likely to become a Christian
And yet, this is exactly what happened.
He went from throwing Christians into jail to becoming one of those he used to persecute
And back to Mark 7, see there from
33 After he (Jesus) took him (the deaf and mute man) aside, away from the crowd …
Just quickly, it might not look like much, but when Jesus takes the man aside, so that they’re hidden away from the crowds … Jesus could’ve used this healing to grow his popularity, but he doesn’t
This is a kindness from Jesus.
As one commentator has written,
Wouldn’t Jesus want everyone to see? No. He’s always been a spectacle to others. And Jesus refuses to make a spectacle of him now.
Let’s keep going.
33 … Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he (Jesus) spit and touched the man’s tongue. 34 He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means “Be opened!”). 35 At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly.
What’s going on here?
I don’t know why Jesus puts his fingers in the man’s ears.
Is he unclogging his ears?
I don’t know.
I mean, how do you even fit a finger into someone’s ear?
And why does Jesus spit and touch his tongue?
I’m not sure.
But I think in touching the man, Jesus is getting his hands dirty
Not healing from a distance, which he could’ve done, as we’ve seen him do
But he gets up close
That’s what Jesus does.
He draws near
He identifies with us in our suffering.
He empathises with us and stands in our shoes.
I think that’s why he sighs.
It’s not a sigh of indifference, as we might think
As in, ‘Okay. Get over here. Let’s get this over and done with. I’m sick of this place.’
No.
It’s a groan.
He sees the man’s deep anguish and he’s distressed. He’s frustrated. He’s sad for the man.
But with just one word, Jesus heals the man.
Jesus frees him from his bondage.
He can hear.
He can speak.
And in doing so, Mark goes on to say in
36 Jesus commanded them not to tell anyone. But the more he did so, the more they kept talking about it. 37 People were overwhelmed with amazement. “He has done everything well,” they said. “He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.”
This is exactly what the prophet Isaiah, hundreds of years before Jesus came, had prophesied in Isaiah 35
5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. 6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy.
I think this was Mark’s way of saying that the One Isaiah promised would come is now here.
Do the blind see?
Do the deaf hear?
Do the lame walk?
Do the mute speak?
Yes!
Well, then, it must be because God has come to his people.
What do we learn from Jesus’ healing of this man who was deaf and mute?
Jesus saves the unable.
The least likely.
The one you think has no chance.
It’s impossible.
But God does the impossible.
He softens the hardest heart.
He forgives the most heinous and evil of crimes.
He turns the sinner into a saint.
Why?
Because it was never about what you do, but what God has done.
Salvation from beginning to end is all of God. It’s entirely God’s doing.
God predestines.
God determines.
God ordains.
God adopts
God chooses
God justifies
God knows
God saves.
What is the likelihood that you, without God doing a supernatural work in you by His Spirit, become a Christian?
I’ll tell you what it is.
0%
And this is not just you.
It’s all of us.
But that’s what God does
Listen to this from the late NY pastor Timothy Keller,
In ancient times, when the oldest son always got all the wealth and the second or younger sons had no social status, how does God work? Through Abel, not Cain. Through Isaac, not Ishmael. Through Jacob, not Esau. Through Ephraim, not Manasseh. Through David, not his older brothers. At a time when women were valued for their beauty and fertility, God chooses old Sarah, not young Hagar. He chooses Leah, not Rachel—unattractive Leah, whom Jacob doesn’t love. He chooses Rebekah, who can’t have children; Hannah, who can’t have children; Samson’s mother, who can’t have children; Elizabeth, John the Baptist’s mother, who can’t have children. Why? Over and over and over again God says, “I will choose Nazareth, not Jerusalem. I will choose the girl nobody wants. I will choose the boy everybody has forgotten.” Why? Is it just that God likes underdogs? No. He is telling us something about salvation itself. Every other religion and moral philosophy tells you to summon up all of your strength and live as you ought. Therefore, they appeal to the strong, to the people who can pull it together, the people who can “summon up the blood.” Only Jesus says, “I have come for the weak. I have come for those who admit they are weak. I will save them not by what they do but through what I do.”
That’s point two.
Think with me of someone in your life who you’d say is the least likely to become a Christian.
Got someone?
Maybe it’s you.
But here’s what we see this morning: What is impossible to you is possible for God.
God regularly, consistently, saves the unable, the deaf, the blind, the lame, and the mute.
Why can’t he save you?
It’s got nothing to do with us and everything to do with him.
God saves the unable.
I’ve heard about when Jeremy ordered a salad for lunch now.
But even more important, I’ve seen God do the impossible and save the unable
I’ll finish here.
We see today that God saves the unworthy and the unable.
For the Christian, I think it means that we should never lose our sense of wonder and amazement of God’s salvation.
There is no room for pride or any superiority in us towards others
There’s no room for arrogance, to think you’re any better than anyone else
You are I are unworthy and completely undeserving
We didn’t deserve God’s love, and yet, in a reckless display of God’s extravagant love, the Child and Son of God became a dog, an outsider, to be unclean, treated as a sinner on the cross, so that the dogs might become children of God, sons and daughters with a seat at the table of the Kingdom of God
I wonder if the gospel still leaves you gobsmacked?
Again, Timothy Keller is helpful here when he writes
… no Christian should ever be far from this astonishment that “I, I of all people, should be loved and embraced by his grace!” I would go so far as to say that this perennial note of surprise is a mark of anyone who understands the essence of the Gospel. What is Christianity? If you think Christianity is mainly going to church, believing a certain creed, and living a certain kind of life, then there will be no note of wonder and surprise about the fact that you are a believer. If someone asks you, “Are you a Christian?” you will say, “Of course I am! It’s hard work but I’m doing it. Why do you ask?” Christianity is, in this view, something done by you—and so there’s no astonishment about being a Christian. However, if Christianity is something done for you, and to you, and in you, then there is a constant note of surprise and wonder. John Newton wrote the hymn: Let us love and sing and wonder, Let us praise the Savior’s name. He has hushed the law’s loud thunder, He has quenched Mount Sinai’s flame. He has washed us with his blood He has brought us nigh to God. See where the love and wonder comes from—because he has done all this and brought us to himself. He has done it. So if someone asks you if you are a Christian, you should not say, “Of course!” There should be no “of course-ness” about it. It would be more appropriate to say, “Yes, I am, and that’s a miracle. Me! A Christian! Who would have ever thought it? Yet he did it, and I’m his.”
Does a perennial note of surprise mark you?
Now, for those here who aren’t Christians, it’s impossible, could it be that you are too proud to come?
Because God has his arms stretched out, ready to embrace you
Come with all your mess.
You don’t have to clean yourself up first.
Admit your weakness, that you are lost, unless God saves you
Recognise who you are: a condemned sinner in need of his grace.
And cry out to God for mercy, looking wholly unto him.
And he will come to you
I love this from CS Lewis who writes in Surprised by Joy about the miracle of his own conversion to Christianity,
You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him whom I so earnestly desired not to meet. That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me. In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape? The words compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.
Thank God that he is not like us.
He doesn’t pick who he saves like we might pick a basketball team
Because if it was about the tallest, strongest, fastest, most skilful, then we’d all be in trouble
But salvation depends on God’s mercy.
And if it’s about God’s mercy, then there’s no anxiety about that, even for the unworthy and the unable, because God will not fail to show mercy to those who come to him.
So, come to him today.
Let’s pray.
Discussion questions:
- What struck you the most about the sermon?
- Why do you think it is so hard for you to come to God being needy?
- Have you given up that God could save or change that person in your life? Or have you given up that God could change you? Why is that wrong?
- What do these two stories reveal to you about the heart of Jesus?