Have Courage!
September 10, 2006
The Rev. Carol DiBiasio-Snyder

Mark 7:24-37

Introduction to the Scripture:

Intriguing stories - these two we are about to hear. If you think you've got Jesus figured out, these incidents will prove you wrong. We're not all together sure why he was wandering around in Gentile territory, cities full of people considered unclean, the outsiders. Sounds like he was hoping for a little time away, as the text tells us "he did not want anyone to know he was there, but he could not stay hidden." And we're not sure why he responds with such judgement to the woman who seeks him out.

He tried to stay hidden, but Jesus was famous and this Greek woman, this woman from Syria, refuses to take the surprising "no" from Jesus to her request to heal her daughter. She wins a verbal sparring match with the Messiah! "Quiet acceptance as a spiritual practice" would not be the heading for this gospel reading. Here we encounter a woman who utters the perfect retort and then we hear about a man who has trouble being articulate.

After Jesus has performed miracles for both, residents of the region just can't stop talking. Amusingly, Jesus orders them to tell no one; but the more he orders, the more zealously they proclaim. Mysteriously, his words both do--and don't--have power. The townsfolk happily ignore his orders. Even Jesus Christ can't get them to shut up. The news of the healing takes on a life of its own. I mean, he just healed this deaf man who could not speak well and then tells him not to talk about it! What was he thinking? Who says the Bible has no humor?!

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Yes, just when I think I have figured out who Jesus is, I have to deal with stories like these. I find this passage disturbing and perplexing. It challenges my view of Jesus as kind, loving and non-judgmental. Have I misunderstood him? Why does he respond the way he does to this woman? And who was she? Why does he need to touch the man's ears and put spit on his tongue and what was that "deep sigh" about?

We can expect that these stories will hold some surprises when we realize that Jesus has traveled outside the boundaries of Israel, journeyed to the sunny Mediterranean sea coast towns of Tyre and Sidon. .

We can expect that the unexpected might take place when we see this foreign woman approach him. The disciples must have looked the other way when this outsider, this unclean Greek came near. Not only was she a Gentile, she was a woman, and on top of that, her daughter was demon possessed. Three strikes against her.

Ignoring all this, the woman falls at Jesus' feet and begs him to heal her daughter. Now here is the shocker, Jesus resists her.

But this woman is determined! She certainly had a lot of chutzpah for a Greek! Who was she? What motivated her to be so bold and brave? She wants something from Jesus, but not for herself, it is for her tormented daughter who is described as possessed by a demon.

We do not know what this really means. "Perhaps she saw her child wake each morning with twisted limbs folded under her. Or maybe she watched under the hot noonday sun as her daughter dropped clean laundry in the dust and [pressed her] fingers on [her] throbbing head. Perhaps it happened after the moon came out and the mother's peaceful sleep was pierced by her daughter's screams." [William Carter] Maybe she lived in fear of when the next terrifying epileptic seizure would punctuate her daughter's otherwise normal childhood. We just don't know the details, but we do know the mother suffered as the child suffered. If you are a parent you know what that means. It is a special kind of torment to stand by, feeling helpless when your child's problem or pain is beyond your control. You will do anything to stop it and you if you could, you would trade places with your suffering child.

This woman knew that anguish and out of that anguish grew courage. She was brave to go to this Jesus she had heard about, a foreigner in her land, a man of a different religion than hers, yet someone in whom she saw a glimpse of hope.

And what does she get from Jesus for her courageous actions? What does she receive for being willing to name her problem and ask for help? An insult. I'm not used to seeing Jesus as curt, if not downright rude. He tells her he has come to save the Jews, "It is not fair to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." He calls her a dog! This is Jesus, not some misguided disciple, not some character in one of his parables, this is Jesus the Christ, and he uses a metaphor and calls her a dog!

What was he doing? Was he just testing her, seeing how committed she was, seeing how strong her faith was? Or did Jesus believe what he was saying? Did he see his mission so focused that he drew the line at this woman's request? Where is that Jesus of great compassion? Does this story dare to suggest that even Jesus did not always see the boundless extravagance of God's grace?

Even in the face of his rejection, even in the light of her lack of honor and her marginal position, this women is undaunted. She has courage, wit, spirit and presence of mind. She persists in her bold attempts to find wholeness for her daughter.

Not arguing the point about whether she was a "dog" or not, she cleverly continues the metaphor appealing to Jesus' sense of fairness, of justice, reminding him that even the dogs get the crumbs that fall from the table.

Now I cannot help picturing Jesus at this point, perhaps with his jaw hanging open, at a loss for words. But when he finds his voice, he praises the woman for her audacious answer. She hears the words and sees what she has so passionately hoped for, her daughter is healed.

This story, so full of surprises, reminds us that even the best of us draws lines around our caring, and builds fences around our love. Some people say things like, "I can't trust him, he's Muslim." "I can't touch him, he's gay." "I can't marry her, she's Hmong." "I can't date him, he's disabled." "I don't want them in my neighborhood, they'll hurt our property values." "I can't help her, she's a Syrian."

This passage asks some biting and tough questions about us and our church. Here at First Congregational Church we pride ourselves on being open and non-judgmental, but do we still have places where we put up fences and draw lines? Are there people with whom we would find it difficult to share our pews? Do we stand behind the words we so often utter, "No matter who you are or where you are on life's journey, you are welcome here?"

More than that, are we willing to extend that welcome beyond a friendly "hello?" Think back when you were new here, or in some other social group, remember how hard it was to get to know people, get to know the organization, find your place to belong, to feel at home?

It takes a great deal of courage for an outsider to come into our circle of caring. It takes a great deal of courage for insiders to truly welcome the outsider further in to our life together. How have you helped a new person among us find their way, feel that they belong? Have you said,"hello" and have you invited them to a church event or out to lunch after church or into your home? For both the insider and the outsider, it takes courage to cross the boundaries that separate us, and claim our common title as Loved by God.

It takes courage . . . and openness. In the second healing story we heard today, when Jesus heals the deaf man who could not speak well, Jesus utters a word in his local language of Aramaic and says, "Ephphatha!" Which means "be opened!"

Be opened! Be courageously open - Open to God, Open to each other, to strangers, opened to new person, the odd person, the unlovely person, be open to those who have felt excluded for so long.
Be open to welcoming folks in - into your church, into your pew, into your heart.

And if we welcome the person of different personality, or political party or color or race or sexual orientation, or religious beliefs or experience, are we also brave enough to listen and learn from them as Jesus learned from the Greek woman? Some years ago it was Harvey Cox who said, "Something is wrong with the church when major league baseball desegregates before the church does." How can we be open to learn from those who are different, those who have something important to teach us?

Jesus' encounters with outsiders remind us that the mission of the church knows no boundaries. This is nothing new, but it is hard to resist the temptation to exclude those who "aren't our kind of people." What can you do to make sure this church knows no boundaries?

As William Carter says, "Taken by itself, the story of Jesus and the Greek woman from Syria remains troubling. It offers a brief glimpse of old fashioned provincialism, and an ugly picture of people divided by ethnic distinctions." With sectarian violence ravaging Iraq and ancient religious rifts fueling death and destruction in Palestine, with state sponsored genocide in Darfur, we hardly need reminders of that. But, if we look at the events in Iraq, Palestine, and Darfur and cluck our tongues in disgust at "those people" over there, as if we are not somehow susceptible to that same dark side of human nature, we are sadly deceived and dangerously unwise.

Jesus' apparent rejection of this woman, as we know, is not the end of the story. In love with the whole world, Jew and Gentile, pagan and believer, Jesus gave away his life for everyone. We know what we must do, we know whom we must have courage to love, we know - everyone!

So, if you find yourself feeling like the Greek woman from Syria, when life is unfair and God is silent, that woman whispers down the corridors of time, "Have courage don't give up, keep on seeking."

And when you feel yourself starting to fence in your love, fearing to reach out to those who seem different, when you have to share your pew with someone you would rather dismiss, Jesus whispers down the corridors of time, "I love you, I love them, have courage, you love them too." Amen.