Who
are you in this story?
I
mean the one about Jesus and the Syrophenician woman, the one he calls a dog.
Of
course, it would be easier to skip right over that and go to the much lovelier
story of healing a deaf-mute and being very modest about it. We admire that.
But… we’re not going there just yet. Jesus’ obnoxious behavior has something to
teach us.
You
see, I don’t think there’s any way to gloss over what Jesus does in this story.
In fact, in the context of his time, what he said was even harsher than it
would be today.
Today
we love our pets. Our dogs are part of the family. We pamper them with treats
and toys. We are, perhaps, more willing to spend money on pet health care than
in taxes to provide health care to poor people.
The
American Pets Products Association estimates that U.S. Americans will spend
$52.87 billion on their pets this year!
 |
| Source: Supply and Demand |
But
in Jesus’ time, dogs were not pets. They were scavengers, as the woman in our
story well knows and rightly states. Even
the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs, she says (Mark 7:24-37, NRSV).
While
in the Dominican Republic in the spring of 2010, I and several other deacons
from our group went for a walk to the seashore one evening. And while standing
there enjoying an evening breeze, we watched a scrawny, mangy dog root through
an overturned trashcan and hungrily consume every scrap of garbage that turned
up.
It
was sickening. But in a subsistence economy, as in Jesus’ time and in poor
countries today, it is not uncommon.
Jesus
calls the woman a dog and it was more scandalous then than it is now.
We
are followers of Jesus. We seek to emulate him. We try to live our lives after
his model. When we have a difficult decision to make, we might well ask
ourselves, What would Jesus do?
Of
course we know that Jesus understood his ministry to be to the Jews. But if you
identify with Jesus in this story, you have to own his narrow-mindedness. His
lack of empathy. His self-righteousness. His rather contemptuous treatment of
the Gentile woman.
Or,
perhaps you identify with the woman in the story? She was desperate! She
certainly would have known the social class system of her day. She had no
business pursuing a Jewish man into a Jewish home seeking his help. She had
absolutely no rights in that situation and no reasonable expectation that this
Jewish rabbi with healing powers, whom she had heard about, would give her the
time of day, much less help her.
But
she was desperate… not for something for herself, but for healing for her tormented
child. If you identify with the woman in the story, you must own her
desperation, her willingness to throw herself on the mercy of a stranger, and
even her immediate acceptance of his humiliating treatment of her.
She
does not resist. She claims no rights and expresses no anger. She says not a
word about unfairness. Rather, devoid of ego and with humility she accepts her
lowly state and asks again for mercy.
So…
who are you in this story? The teacher and healer so sought after by the crowds
that his popularity has gone to his head? Or the powerless woman under the
table groveling for the scraps of his favor? Not a pretty choice, if you ask
me!
But
then something quite miraculous happens. The proud young man actually hears,
sees and learns something… from precisely the poor, low-class woman he has been
looking down on.
See,
Jesus was not born knowing all he needed to know about God’s plan for the
world. He was, after all, fully human. A wise, deeply spiritual human, our
Scriptures tell us, but nevertheless, fully human. Therefore, he had things to
learn, as all human do.
He
knew he had been called to bring the Good News of God’s liberating love and
grace to the Jewish people. This is not the only passage in the Gospels that
reveals his awareness of that.
As
a devout Jew, which Jesus was his entire life, the rules regarding his
interaction with this woman were very strict. He could not touch her. He should
not even be interacting with her. She was an obstacle preventing him from being
about the work he knew he was called to do.
Yet,
he was Jesus, who taught and modeled God’s love, compassion and mercy. Thus
when the Gentile woman humbly accepts the lowly status he has conferred upon
her but with a touch of chutzpah asks for the very scraps he has said is all
she deserves, Jesus himself is touched and transformed.
It
is as if Jesus himself sees the wideness of God’s grace and mercy for the first
time.
As
if Jesus realizes that the Good News is not only for the Jews, but for all
people.
As
if he understands that God loved the
world, as his disciple John would write after his death, not merely the
Jewish people.
Author
Heidi Husted wrote about Jesus’ encounter with the Syrophoenician woman in an
article published in Christian Century.
She said this:
The day the gospel went to the dogs was
the day it came to us. We are some of the “dogs” who have received the
good news of the gospel! When Jesus opened himself up to mission to the
whole world, he opened his church to the world. Now we are to open ourselves to
the whole world in mission.
When
was the last time you allowed yourself to be transformed by one of the people
of the world to whom you are called to minister?
What
have you learned about the width and depth of God’s grace and mercy from one
who is poor? Lower class? An immigrant? Someone who does not live the way we
good Christian folks live and think others should live?
May
God bless us all—as He did Jesus—with the gift of a transforming encounter with
precisely the person we are most likely to view with disdain.
AMEN
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