My
parents were not pet people. We
didn’t have pets when we were growing up.
When my brother, Chuck, was in college, he got a kitten for his
apartment, formed a strong attachment to him, and then moved to an apartment
that did not allow pets. I wondered what he was thinking when he brought his
cat, Partner, to my parents’ house.
They were not pet people.
However, they reluctantly agreed to let Partner live on the screened-in
porch.
Imagine
my surprise when I came home for a weekend visit about a month later and found
Partner in the house with my mom.
When my Dad got home from work and settled into his easy chair, I looked
over and there was Partner—on the arm of the chair, and my Daddy was stroking
him. The next time I visited, my Dad
had an open jar of peanut butter and a spoon in his hand when he settled into
his easy chair. He no sooner
dipped a spoon into that jar and there was Partner on the arm of the chair
licking that spoon! The
next time I came home, my mom had a story to tell me. When she made chicken salad, my Daddy would sit at the table
and de-bone the boiled chicken for her.
She was working at the counter, with her back to my Daddy and the
table. When she turned around,
there was Partner, up on the table, and my Daddy was feeding him the cooked
chicken skin and fat. Mom snuck
out of the kitchen to get her camera.
I still have a copy of that picture—Partner and Daddy de-boning the
chicken. Who would have guessed
it? That cat had won over both my
non-pet parents’ hearts. Pets and
food and kitchen tables . . . I think of these reading today’s text.
But
I also squirm a bit reading the first part of today’s text. I don’t like Jesus’ initial response to
the Syro-Phoenician woman. This doesn’t sound like “my” Jesus—calling another
human being a “dog.” This doesn’t
look like “my” Jesus—refusing to heal someone in pain. I cannot recall any other instance of
Jesus turning someone away. So I
find this text disturbing and difficult.
Thankfully, I have conversation partners as I approach it.
We
Presbyterians believe the Holy Spirit speaks to us, illuminating God’s word for
us most clearly when we study God’s word in community. That community includes not just the
people sitting around the table—the study table—breathing the air in the room,
but also theologians and Biblical scholars sharing their expertise in their
published commentaries. That
community with whom we study and pray and seek insight, through the power of
the Holy Spirit, includes theologians and scholars from across the ages. So, faced with a disturbing and
difficult text like today’s, I am comforted by the wisdom, knowledge, and
insight of conversation partners like John Calvin and Martin Luther.
Today’s
text comes from the Gospel according to Mark—gospel, a new genre of
literature, initiated by this author, whose purpose was not just to chronicle
events in Jesus’ life and replay his conversations. No, Mark’s purpose was to convey the good news—that through
the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ, God’s rule is breaking
in to the here and now. We don’t
have to wait until the end times to experience God’s loving desire for us and
this world. Mark’s vehicle for
this good news is his story—constructed by ordering events not according to
chronology but according to purpose and emphasis.[1]
Mark
sets today’s text among Jesus’ travels to the Gentile areas of Phoenicia and
the Decapolis. The Roman
government shipped grains which the poor, peasant Jewish share-croppers grew to
these Gentile regions. Three
Sundays ago Judge Steve Montgomery talked about the forced famines in the
Ukraine when grains from this breadbasket of Europe were shipped away to feed
the Nazis in Germany or the Bolsheviks in Russia. It was a similar situation in Galilee in Jesus’ time.
In
Mark’s story, Jesus and his disciples have been seeking quiet, renewal,
together time, but hounded by the crowds wherever they go, they are tired and
frustrated. “Hiding out” in
someone’s home, their privacy is invaded by a Syro-Phoenician woman— probably
one of the non-Jewish “haves” who took advantage of the poorer Jewish peasants
in Galilee. And she’s begging for
a healing miracle for her daughter.
Mark’s story invites us to consider: Perhaps Jesus reacts out of exhaustion. Perhaps Jesus reacts
out of indignation that this upper class Gentile would make a demand of an
itinerant Jewish teacher. Perhaps
Jesus reacts out of disgust that this woman has flaunted the accepted Jewish
social code—only men approach men with requests. Whatever his motivation, Jesus reacts with uncharacteristic
rudeness—referring to the woman’s daughter as a dog. “The children have to be fed first. It isn’t right to take the
children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”[2]
I’m here to feed only the
children, he says. His response is difficult for me to hear. It disturbs me. But the Syro-Phoenician woman is
persistent. “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the
children’s crumbs.”[3] Why can’t you feed both children and
dogs, Jesus? Does your ministry
have to be either or? Can it be both and?
After
listening to my conversation partners this week, I think Mark places Jesus in
Gentile territory in order to emphasize Jesus’ moment of insight, his
redirection. The good news God
sent him to proclaim includes Jews and Gentiles. God’s rule of love and justice breaking in to the here and
now is for all people—not just God’s covenant people. Through Jesus’ ministry, God will work to break down
dividing walls of hostility.
Jesus’ ministry will break down barriers—barriers between Jewish
subsistence farmers and Gentile gentry, barriers between men and women,
barriers between people and God.
Telling
this story, Mark illumines the humanity of Jesus. “Mark is showing us that . .
. to be the Son of God, the Messiah must suffer not only at the hands of those
who do not understand him,”[4]
the ones who will later nail him to a cross. To be the Son of God, the Messiah must also suffer “the
challenge of the human condition itself,”[5]
shaking off the bigotry and the exclusivity that has accreted over the
centuries. Reminded of Jesus’
humanity, I am reassured that his loving presence in my day-to-day life is a
presence of understanding even when I “don’t measure up” to my own expectations
of discipleship.
If
Jesus needed to refocus his ministry, we should expect that we too, will be
faced with opportunities for re-direction. If Jesus needed to be reminded that God sees no difference
between Jew and Gentile—loving both—we too, may need to be reminded that there
are no external barriers between God and any human being. If Jesus needed to be opened to
ministering to all, we too, may need to be reminded not to shut the doors of
our hearts, of our minds, or of our work on some people. If Jesus could be opened to hear a
prophetic voice from a woman—a foreign woman, a foreign woman from a totally
different class; then we too, can be opened to hear the prophetic voice from
those outside our community of faith saying “feed me—include me.” If Jesus needed to be reminded that his
mission extended beyond his ethnic group, we too, may need to be reminded that
our mission extends to those who are different from us.
Our
mission extends to those who can’t sit still—to those who squirm and whisper in
worship, to those who like to sing contemporary Christian music, to those who
like to sign songs as well as sing them.
Our mission extends to those who need opportunities to move and be
joyful during worship. Our mission
extends to those who are different from us—to those who are hungry—to those who
are hungry Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday as well as Monday
and Wednesday—when the PACA food bank is open. Our mission extends to those who are different from us—to
those who live in a loving, committed relationship with someone of the same
gender. Our mission extends to
those who are different from us—to those who don’t have loving, caring people
in their lives—to those who are lonely.
Our mission— We are a welcoming community of faith seeking to help every person
discover God’s transforming love as we proclaim the good news!—our
mission is to share God’s love with everyone—those who are like us and those
who differ from us.
As
our new church year begins, it is appropriate to hear and ponder together a
disturbing and difficult text. As
our new church year begins, it is appropriate to proclaim a text refocusing us
on the inclusiveness of God’s good news.
As our new church year begins, it is appropriate to respond
together—turning outward,
moving ourselves beyond our sanctuary
walls—to serve God in our community.
That
first visit back home after Chuck had left Partner with my mom and dad,
I asked Mom, “Why is Partner inside the
house?” She replied, “Your Daddy
wanted him inside.” In today’s
text, Mark reminds his audience—then and now—“Your heavenly Daddy wants not
only you and you but him and him, her and her, all of us—inside the house. Your heavenly Daddy wants all of us
inside and at his table.”
Amen.
[1] Joanna Dewey and Elizabeth
Struthers Malbon, “Mark,” Theological
Bible Commentary. Ed by Gail
R. O’Day and David L. Petersen.
Louisville: Westminster
John Knox Press, 2009, p. 311.
[2] Mark 7: 27 (CEB)
[3] Mark 7: 28 (CEB)
[4] Loye Bradley Ashton. “Mark 7: 24 – 37 Theological Perspective.” Feasting on the Word Year B. vol. 4.
Edited by David L Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor Louisville: Westminster
John Knox Press, 2009, p. 48.
[5] Ibid.
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