Are They ALL God’s Children?
James 2:1-10. 14-17 Mark 7:24-30
September 6, 2009 Season after Pentecost
The Story of The Syro-Phoenician Woman - retold by Ralph Milton
"You can't go in there," said Peter.
"Well, I am going in there whether you like it or not."
"I said, you can't go in there, woman."
"I am going in, mister. I have a sick daughter at home, and I am going in there and that prophet of yours is going to fix her. Now get out of my way before I give you a swift kick in the knackers."
Peter jumped aside. The fierce eyes of the woman frightened him. He followed her into the house. "I told her you didn't want to be disturbed, Jesus. But she wouldn't listen."
"Jesus? That is your name? They say you are a prophet. They say you are a very mighty prophet. Some say you are the Messiah. All right, I'm asking you. No, I'm begging you, Jesus, Lord, son of David, help my daughter. She is desperately sick with epilepsy. If she doesn't get help, she will die."
Jesus was sitting on a mat in a corner of the room away from the hot sunshine coming in through the window. He was meditating – trying to rest, trying to regain some strength after the exhausting work in Capernaum. Jesus was tense and tired and annoyed at the woman for intruding on his retreat. He kept his eyes closed, hoping she would take the hint and leave.
"Look, I'm sorry. But I need your help, Jesus. My daughter is dying and I need your help!"
"Just tell her to leave, Jesus," said Peter. "She'll listen to you."
"I can't help you. I'm sorry. That's just the way it is. I was sent to the people of Israel. To the Jews. Please leave." His voice had the edge of utter exhaustion.
"Surely, if you are a man of God, you have come to all of God's people."
"The children of Israel are God's people. Look, I'm sorry. But you don't take the bread that is meant for the children and feed it to your puppy, do you." Jesus smiled just a little during the last comment, perhaps to soften the insult. The smile gave her hope.
"Right," she said, her eyes flaming with desperation. "But even the mutts on the street get to eat some of the scraps off the family table. Surely, Jesus, your God has enough love to give a little to those of us who are not Jewish!"
Jesus recoiled a little. His hand massaged his forehead as if to ease a headache. He felt the woman's piercing eyes. Through his mind flashed the stories of his people, the wonderful humor of Jonah who was sent to bring God's message to the hated Ninevites, the moving story of Ruth, the foreigner, who became an ancestor to the great King David, and the stories his own mother had told him of his birth–of foreign Magi who came bearing gifts.
"You are right," said Jesus barely above a whisper. "Of course you are right. You are also very courageous. Go home. Your daughter will be well."
"Thank you," she said, and now her mother's tenderness went out to Jesus. "Go back to your meditation. You look as if you need the rest."
"Meditation, yes," Jesus said quietly. "You have given me much to meditate upon."
This morning our two scriptures show the progression of thought from a time when even Jesus claimed that he was sent primarily to help the Jews, to a time when everyone was deemed to be a person worthy of care and compassion. At first, even Jesus tells the Gentile woman that he has nothing to offer to her nor to her child. He even likens them to the stray dogs that roam the streets looking for handouts. She, however, refuses to back down. She is not embarrassed by Jesus’ attempt to put her off. In fact, she continues with her argument, using his own language with a bit of a twist. The word he had used was “puppies,” “let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the puppies;” but she came back at him saying, “even the mutts under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Her words must have hit home for Jesus because he stopped arguing with her and simply told her to go home, that her daughter had been healed. We don’t often think of Jesus needing to learn something, especially needing to learn anything about his own ministry. Wouldn’t he have been on top of things regarding his own life work, much more than some Syrophoenician woman who was considered by most good Jews as being unclean? Wasn’t Jesus the gold standard by which compassion was measured? It is so interesting to think that even Jesus needed to grow. Even Jesus had to change. What is even more interesting is the source of his growth - an unassuming woman who didn’t even share his faith. But what she did have was a fierce love for her daughter, fierce enough to push her to challenge Jesus in order to get what she came for - her daughter’s healing.
This brings up two very interesting thoughts - one is that sometimes our learning and our growth comes from very unexpected places and people, as it did for Jesus. The second is that sometimes we have to be willing to risk everything in order to gain justice, as the woman in this story was willing to do for the sake of her daughter. The woman reminds me of people like Rosa Parks who claimed her rightful seat on that bus in Montgomery Alabama. She reminds me of simple people who take a stand for what is right, as a normal part of their everyday life. We all can benefit from her example, as there are times in each of our lives when justice is elusive, when compassion needs someone to speak up on its behalf. It is all too easy to avoid conflict and maintain our silence, but the cost of our silence can be pretty steep. I am sure that each of us can hark back to a time when we did not speak up, and we wish we had. In the moment, we stand tongue-tied, wondering if we ought to do something or say something. Later, with the luxury of hindsight, we might find words for what we wanted to convey in that charged moment. But no one spoke up - we didn’t speak up - and the opportunity was lost. It can be frustrating to realize that you could have done something that might have helped to change things. This week, at Green Mountain College’s convocation, the speaker was Lois Gibbs who told about how she, an ordinary mother, organized her community when she discovered that her child and many others were getting sick because their school was built on a toxic waste dump. At first, the authorities refused to do anything because their cost risk assessments told them it was okay if the children of Love Canal became sick, if many of them born with birth defects. Their suffering was worth it to the chemical company that needed a place to dump their waste. It took many years of effort, but through her persistence, funds were finally made available to all who wanted to leave Love Canal and find a home in a cleaner, safer community. In addition, then-President Jimmy Carter approved emergency financial aid for the Love Canal area (the first emergency funds ever to be approved for something other than a "natural" disaster), and the U.S. Senate approved a "sense of Congress" amendment saying that Federal aid should be forthcoming to relieve the serious environmental disaster which had occurred.
Lois made a difference, not only for her children, and her small community, but also for the entire country. Since that time, many more Superfund sites have been identified all over the country, and federal money set aside to clean up toxic areas. As I listened to Lois speak about her work, it amazed me to think that someone with as little experience as she had was able to make such a big difference in the world. She just did what she knew was the right thing, and she didn’t back down from the authorities who attempted to push her and the other residents of Love Canal around.
Our reading from James this morning reflects the philosophy we have come to identify as being Christian. In it we are told that playing favorites is not right, that rich or poor, well-dressed or shabby, all are beloved children of God. Sometimes we are asked to love folks we don’t particularly like, people with whom we have little in common. Sometimes we are asked to show compassion to someone who has hurt us,who has caused our loved ones pain. This is possibly one of the most difficult things we might have to do in our quest to follow Christ. It can go against our sense of self-preservation, and yet offering love and compassion is required of us. Every person is a person of worth in God’s eyes. Sometimes the folks we assume to be most worthy turn out to be just as flawed and imperfect as we are. Sometimes the people we discount turn out to be the ones who have the most to offer. Jesus learned more from the courageous gentile women than he possibly learned at the feet of some of his wisest teachers and advisors. Simple, unassuming people are responsible for many, many good things in our lives. Maybe we had best keep our eyes open so we don’t miss or dismiss anyone - even the least of these our brothers and sisters, nor the gifts that they offer.
Loving God, if even Jesus could learn something new well into his ministry, maybe there is hope for us as well. Will you help us open our eyes to the people around us, so that we might truly see them? Will you help us to open our hearts so that your own compassion flows through us? Will you help us to stay open to the blessings that are available to us through avenues we rarely suspect. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.