We, the members of the Genesee Lutheran Parish, in receiving God’s gracious gifts, are committed to be living examples of Jesus’ love by strengthening and encouraging each other. We commit to love every person and serve anyone we can through word and deed, following the example of our Lord.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Monday Morning Sermon (Part 3) Why Did Jesus Say That?

Our week-long look at last Sunday's texts continues with a peek at the gospel, Mark 7: 24-37.


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. 26 The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter.
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.”
28 “Lord,” she replied, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
29 Then he 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.

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.
33 After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he 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.
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.”
The most striking (shocking?) part of this text comes in the first healing story, where Jesus appears to put a woman through the wringer before healing her daughter.  We expect a lot of things to come out of the mouth of the Savior, but, "It is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs" isn't one of them!  Is Jesus being mean here?  Our Jesus?

I suppose we could attempt to soften the blow of the words.  We could talk about dogs still being members of the household.  We could skip to the eventual healing right away and ignore the statement altogether.  Either approach would be an injustice or worse, seem like permission.  As long as we perceive ourselves bringing good--or bringing God--to someone we have license to say whatever we wish?  Some Christians have adopted that very philosophy and caused much damage thereby.  "Turn to Christ, you stupid, ignorant heathen!"  Which weighs more in that statement, Christ or the insults?

We need to give full gravity to the harshness of these words.  We also need to admit that there are some things that God can say that we cannot.  That rankles us with our old impulses to become God ourselves.  One of the problems with that attempt at equality is that we tend to regard "harsh" and "powerful" as the same thing.  "You're a dog!" seems like a more powerful and direct statement than "Love your neighbor".  Even though Jesus says the latter (in one way or another) 60,000 times in the gospels and the former only once, we seize on the most powerful statement we can find when we try to assume the role of God, the better to prove our power.  "Being God" doesn't mean loving your neighbor, it means the freedom to call your neighbor a dog with impunity.  This isn't what Christ showed us about God, no matter what this statement appears to say.

So once again...why this statement to a poor, needy woman?

For the last couple of days here we've talked about faith being a relationship.  We've also talked about faith and works being bound together.  When you try to separate one from the other you end up with neither.

The woman in this gospel was a Greek, living near the city of Tyre, born in Syrian Phoenicia.  Forget the intricacies of geography...here's what's important about that:  this woman would have had no clue who Jesus was outside of rumor.  She had no cultural, social, or religious relationship with him, with the scriptures which framed his ministry, with the God he embodied.  All she knew was a travelling healer coming through town.  She was desperate enough to try him out, for the sake of her daughter.

Had Jesus simply healed the woman's daughter without comment, that's all she ever would have known.  Granted, she would have understood his effectiveness.  "He was a great guy," she would have said, "His stuff really worked!"  But where would that have left her and her daughter?  They still wouldn't have known who Jesus was, nor God.  They still would have had no relationship.  They would have experienced a great work completely absent of the context of faith.  Even that work, as great as it was, would prove temporary.  The woman's daughter went on with her life, grew up, lived, and then died.  Without some greater sense of faith and its meaning, that's all there is to the story.  The woman and child were just like billions of others who have lived on the planet.  So what?

As odd as it seems, Jesus' statement about dogs and table scraps put this whole story into a faith context.

Here's another thing you should know about that statement:  though it's shocking to us, Jesus' Jewish followers wouldn't have blinked an eye at it.  That's generally what they thought!  They were God's chosen people.  Everybody else was not as favored.  (Lest you think this is confined to ancient Jews, consider how many Christian churches today preach that same message, just swapping in Christ.)  If anything, their reaction to Jesus' utterance here would have been, "It's about time!  And can we get back to decent lands now?"

It's doubtful that the woman would have been surprised by the statement either.  Most cultures were at least mildly xenophobic back then.  If she knew anything about Jews she would have known she was not like them.  Her people considered them lowly, they considered her lowly in return.

The real surprise here comes in her response.  She doesn't deny the charges.  She doesn't get angry.  She doesn't protect herself or shy away from the accusation.  Her eyes remain focused on the real issue:  not her, but her daughter.  Her love for her daughter trumps everything.  The need for her daughter to be healed--another's need rather than just her own--remains paramount.

Jesus' statement about dogs questioned this woman's identity.  In essence he said to her, "These men all say you're a dog.  Culture says you're a dog.  Society says you're a dog.  I've just compared you to a dog.  Who are you?"  Her answer?  "I am the one who cares about somebody besides myself.  It doesn't matter who I am.  There's a child in need.  I am the one who names you as the one who can help.  Whatever you need to say or think or call me in order to help this child...do it."

I'm surprised that Jesus wasn't in tears as he told her that her daughter was healed.  And it's no accident that he said, "For such a [faithful] reply" your daughter is healed.  Between the two of them they had redefined what faith and rightness mean.  Faith and right are not about culture, gender, society, religious rules.  Those aren't sufficient to describe our relationship with God.  Faith is about saying exactly what the woman said, "Whatever goodness exists, God, you are the source.  Whatever happens to me, bless my neighbor with that goodness."  Those two statements describe our relationship with God and the relationship he wants us to have with the world.  The blessing, healing, and good work will naturally follow.

It's important to understand that Jesus' statement didn't end up burying this woman, but revealed how amazing she actually was.  This woman with no clue and no prior relationship with God, bearing only her need and her love, taught every one of us the real meaning of faith.

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)

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