“We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy. Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.” (BCP, p. 337)
To pray, we open our clenched fists. Or you’ve probably seen that I raise my arms and hands every time I pray during Mass. This liturgical posture is called ‘orans’ which sounds like ‘oracion’ in Spanish, meaning prayer. Whether we unchench our fists to gather our open palms or raise our arms and hands, there’s a sense of openness in both gestures. We open our clenched fists. In the orans posture, I open myself with arms extended from my sides and hands open. What about when we receive Communion? We never take the host. With our open hands, we receive. It’s that openness which we receive the mercy of God. If you search the word, ‘openness’ on google, it gives you a very interesting definition. We might imagine it would be defined in a positive manner, but this google definition of the word is somewhat different. It says openness is ‘lack of restriction, accessibility, or lack of secrecy or concealment.’ in our everyday language, saying something is lacking usually means something is deficit and deprived in a negative sense. We say, for example, ‘So and so is lacking patience and empathy.’ Or we can think of the phrase, ‘lack of a better word’ when our language of describing or defining something is limited and we’re doing our best with words that we think of. Another example is found in the traditional Christian understanding of evil. Evil is the lack of good. It is the absence of good. This google definition of openness actually raises a good question for us. What ‘restriction or concealment’ do we want to ‘lack’ in order to be more open? In other words, what gets in the way for us to be more open? It may be fear, anxiety, cowardice, anger, resentment, judgment, doubt, and so on. I wouldn’t say that we have to be always entirely open. This wouldn’t be actually beneficial to our mental health. We do need to develop appropriate defense mechanisms to protect ourselves. Yet, there must be a balance to open and close. At the same time, we know we are much more prone to clench our fists and close ourselves out of fear. Opening our hands and ourselves is something we do not do so much. In today’s gospel lesson, there’s a concurrent theme of this openness between two healing accounts. Jesus heals the daughter of a Syrophoenician, and heals a deaf man. Let’s talk about the latter story first. Being deaf in the time of Jesus is like living in a closed world, considering the history of sign language only started in the 17th century. This deafness creates lack of communication with the world. Nowadays, it’s a bit different with the development of sign language that the deaf community can be considered another form of human linguistic community. But that’s not that case in today’s gospel context. This deaf person is linguistically, socially, and probably spiritually isolated and enclosed from his community. In this closed place, however, Jesus is invited to enter. People bring this deaf person to Jesus. This deaf person’s presence is somewhat forced on Jesus. Jesus encounters the deaf person’s social and spiritual isolation which may create an experience of abandonment from his community and perhaps God. In this encounter, Jesus enters deeper into the deaf man’s reality. Jesus first closes himself from the crowd to heal this deaf person as if he’s contracting hard in order to expand wider the mercy of God through healing. He puts his fingers into his ears. He spits and touches his tongue. He then says, “Ephphatah. Be opened.” This healing act of Jesus brings us back to the first lesson from the Book of Isaiah. The prophet proclaims, “...the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water.” If I may summarize Isaiah’s words, it is about what’s closed will be opened. What’s isolated will be united. What’s hidden will be revealed. What’s cut off will be reconnected. What’s damaged will be restored. What’s hurt will be healed. What’s lost will be found. Jesus opens up what’s closed. This is the work of the Holy Spirit. Having said this, let’s touch base with the first half of today’s gospel story. Jesus shows us somewhat troubling and uncomfortable behaviors. At first, his attitude towards the Syrophoenician woman doesn’t seem to have anything to do with this concurrent theme of openness. Let’s recall our memory that he literally refers this gentile mother whose heart breaks for her daughter to a dog. It’s more like a puppy. Looking at this begging mother for the healing of her daughter, Jesus says 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.” Culturally speaking, this is not something odd to the Israelites. They come first, not the gentiles. But this gentile woman persists. She never gives up. She challenges Jesus with her wisdom. She says, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Some might criticize her for not calling Jesus out being a misogynist and a chauvinist, that she should be much more confrontational. Well, she doesn’t. But what she does instead is she educates Jesus with the same analogy that Jesus uses. The dogs under the table are much more desperate and ready to eat whatever falls off the table. These dogs are open even to the children’s crumbs. This is to say, ‘We the dogs are much more open to the mercy of God.” Referring herself to a dog is not a sign of weakness or lack of self-respect. It comes out of her love and compassion for her daughter. For her, it doesn’t really matter what Jesus calls her. What matters is the life of her daughter. This persistence of the mother actually pulls Jesus out of his culturally and religiously closed box. She opens the heart of Jesus. There’s this openness he learns from her which enables him to open the ears and tongue of the deaf person. There’s a divine chain of openness being handed over first from the gentile woman to Jesus. And what this openness actually does is not just for the person being opened but also for others. When this divine openness happens, people flourish. The gentile woman’s daughter is healed. The deaf person is healed. They flourish to become who they are called and meant to be! Without this openness, there’s no way that God can work through us. We are called to constantly open ourselves to the future that Jesus has accomplished through his death and resurrection. This opening up of ourselves is really to go out of ourselves. Constantly going out of ourselves takes us to encounter God in a new and mysterious way. For God is the perpetual opening up of God’s very own nature to us! We as church need each other to open ourselves to the future that Jesus has brought to the world. Our Christian responsibility which derives from the love of Jesus Christ is to play the role of the Syrophoenician woman, to become that person who wisely pulls the other out of the closed box of favoritism, judgment, fear, anxiety, resentment, and hatred. There’s this forgotten term, magnanimitas in Latin or magnanimity in English. It’s about extending and expanding myself, not aggrandizing my ego, for the sake of others. In this greatness of one’s soul, there’s a room for others to sit, stay, and rest. And finally this room of magnanimitas becomes a place that is filled with the mercy of God, where mercy triumphs over judgment. Jesus’s harsh comment and judgement of the Syrophoenician woman is transformed by the mercy of the Father to the mercy of Jesus himself. Let’s unclench our fists. As we do that, we offer to God anxiety, fear, hatred, or resentment we are holding in our hands. Let God take them. Let your hands be free, and freely open our hands. Open our hearts. Receive the mercy of God to be the open hand that delivers that divine mercy to others. May the Holy Spirit give us the courage to open ourselves up to the mercy of Jesus Christ. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. |
Paul"...life up your love to that cloud [of unknowing]...let God draw your love up to that cloud...through the help of his grace, to forget every other thing." Archives
January 2025
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