St. Paul's Episcopal Church

St. Paul's Episcopal Church
425 Cleveland Ave SW
Canton, Ohio 44702
Phone: 330-455-0286
Fax: 330-455-9818
E-mail: office@stpaulscanton.org

14 Pentecost
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Canton OH
Mark 7:24-37, Matthew 15: 21-28

September 6, 2009
The Rev. Barbara L Bond

Rude Jesus

Today’s scene from the Gospel of Mark is curious and strange. We have been raised on portrayals of Jesus as kind and loving to everyone, carrying the lambs in his arms, healing everyone who asks for his help.

So what are we to make of this scene, where Jesus snaps at a poor desperate woman whose daughter is ill? He seems to call her a dog. And in that society, that wasn’t a nice term. We aren’t talking cuddly puppies here, but rather scavenger dogs which lived on garbage. Calling a woman a female dog is still not considered to be polite.

To understand this scene a little better, I’d like to read you the same scene from the Gospel of Matthew. In this second version, a few more details are added. It still isn’t pretty, but perhaps it is more understandable.

“Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.’ But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.’ He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’ But she came and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’ He answered, “’It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ She said, ‘Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’ Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.”

The crucial difference in these two accounts is Jesus’ comment to his followers, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” See, this woman isn’t Jewish. She’s Canaanite, or Syro-phoenician, but at any rate, she is definitely not of the house of Israel, and Jesus claims that his ministry is exclusive. He is only sent to help the Jews.

This statement cuts no ice with this woman, because she is desperate. Her child is ill, probably dying, and she dares to approach Jesus and ask for his mercy. Jew, non-Jew, she doesn’t care. Raw human need has no boundaries. I like to think that she made an impact on Jesus: that in their exchange, she showed him that the world was a bigger place, and that every type of people has needs. Perhaps at that moment, Jesus’ horizon was raised and he understood his ministry to be broader than he first supposed.

In the Matthew version of this story, Jesus says to her, “Great is your faith.” Her faith in what, exactly? In Jesus’ ability to help her daughter? Perhaps her desperation drove her to faith and to action. Jesus was her one hope. When her frantic need met divine compassion, she found her faith.

Some of us get a little sloppy with our prayer regimen. We plan to make time each morning or evening, and we want to start our prayer time with praise and thanksgiving, but sometimes that communication with God gets confined to Sunday mornings. Unless, of course, we are desperate. If a loved one is ill, if we are in crisis, we are apt to utter, quite spontaneously, the primal prayer: “Oh God!” This is a prayer. It is not an expression. It is that moment that cuts across all the boundaries, all the preoccupations of our lives, and reaches out to God. It is a huge leap of faith, begging God for help.

Maybe you aren’t in that place today, but, life being what it is, that time will come. There will come a time when you are desperate, reaching out to God for help. When it happens, remember this story. God is not going to say, “Forget it. You’ve missed too many Sundays in church.” God is not going to say, “Hey, you aren’t even Episcopalian!” God will see your raw need, and your faith. God will join you in that terrible place, and walk along side you in your distress. God will bring you healing – healing of your anxiety, healing of your prayer life, healing of your faith, healing of that terrible feeling that you are alone in your struggle. Maybe even healing of your own impediments. In the Gospel story in Mark, Jesus goes on to heal a man of his deafness. Perhaps you too will be healed of your deafness to those around you, so that you can hear the words of support from your friends and fellow parishioners, hear the Word of God proclaimed to you every Sunday. Perhaps, when desperate enough, you will hear the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. With your ears newly opened, perhaps you will hear the cry of the poor, and be moved to offer compassion to others. That is when healing turns to wholeness, and we discover that we are not unique, that everyone needs God and needs their neighbor. The love of God can make us whole.