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First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| 2 Kings 4:42–44 |
Psalm 145:10–19 |
Psalm 145:10–19 |
Psalm 145:10–19 |
There is a medieval Jewish tale of a poor woman who scrimped and saved so that she could travel a great distance to visit a famous rabbi, renowned for his wisdom and prayers. She wished to entreat him to offer prayers to God on her behalf for she was sure that God heard him, being such a wise and famous rabbi. Finally after great sacrifice, she managed to meet the rabbi. Trembling she offered him a bag of gold, all her savings, and humbly begged him to offer prayers for her family’s welfare. The rabbi looked deep into the woman’s eyes and at her small bag of gold before him. “No I won’t,” the rabbi said suddenly in a gruff voice. “Take your bag of gold and go back home.” The woman was so angry that she blurted out what first came into her mind. “Well, who needs such a self-important hunk of mountain like yourself? I certainly will go home, and I’ll say my own prayers and God will hear them.” The rabbi’s face changed into a broad smile. “Yes, precisely, God will hear them.”
The reply of Jesus to the woman of Syro-phoenicia seemed harsh, no matter how we might try to soften it. It may be that Jesus’ reply, when translated into English and across many centuries, has picked up an edge it didn’t originally have, or that the woman was so forthright because she knew from the first that Jesus’ expression communicated sincere compassion. Yet, we are still taken back.
Perhaps the compiler of the Gospel included this story precisely because later readers needed to pay attention and receive a shock. We know historically that many members of the early church reluctantly began to spread beyond the borders of Judaism. However, the Gospels make it clear that Jesus traveled beyond the borders of conventional Judaism, and freely ventured into the land of the Gentiles and outcasts. In a sense Jesus always taught by enlarging the circle of God’s Grace. From the first, the disciples learned that there would always be more borders for them to cross and more barriers to break down. Jesus did not sit on the sidelines or merely advise his disciples to do this in the future. He Himself fully participated in the process. In one sense in the encounter with this woman, Jesus revealed the struggle involving a natural tendency to hold back, play it safe, and be careful to whom you open your heart, with an open and committed mission that stretched ethnic traditions and historical identity.
I wonder if the Gospel editor might have been reminded of the story of Jacob who one night by a ford of the Jabbok River struggled with his old life of treachery and guilt, and God’s reminder of Jacob’s part in a new future involving a blessing beyond simply his own tribe. Just as Jacob received a special blessing that united him once more with his brother Esau, so does the church’s mission to the larger world past and present, receive God’s blessing of reconciliation, but only after debate, soul searching, and wrestling with its implications. Like Jacob, sometimes the church limps for a time after taking God seriously.1
We are brought into the conversation with the Syrophoenician woman, so that we, too, will come to understand that we need to pay attention to her and all her descendants of fellow outcasts. We likely will always have to struggle with this. When people are divided into “us” and “them”, the Gospel is calling us to have real conversation with the “thems”. Honest conversation involves not scolding, but sharing and listening to “them,” as well as speaking our mind. It means primarily seeking to understand, not to change or condemn. During the process, when the line separating “them” from “us” begins to become indistinct or merge at the edges, reconciliation occurs, and then healing and understanding start to happen. That is a genuine sign of God’s grace at work. Sad to say, there are as many of “thems” in our society as there were “thems” in the early disciples’ day.
The Gospel seems to be saying that God does not want us to construct barriers and hierarchies of separation. God isn’t asking us for protection. The Gospel works to make God accessible and present, not hidden and distant. I suspect that Jesus, on occasion, might have been like that wise rabbi who gruffly and shockingly replied to the poor woman’s entreaty and offering, “No! you can’t persuade, cajole, or bribe me. I am not a gatekeeper of the divine ear, nor is any true disciple. God does not value me at the expense of you. Go home and do it yourself. You, too, are a child of God. God will listen to you.”
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
1 cf. Genesis 32
