September 10
Mark 7:24-37
Remember last week that Jesus frankly and boldly and unambiguously demolished the purity code of the Judaism of his time. He clearly declared all foods clean and that relationships are more important than ritual observances. So when the reading for this week begins, it looks like Jesus is going out to put his money (well, his work) where his mouth is. He heads into Gentile territory, Tyre and Sidon, in modern-day Lebanon. Why would Jesus make that journey if not to show that his gospel is not just for the Jewish people?
Actually, it seems at first that Jesus may be going north for a break. He has worked ceaselessly for weeks, having difficulty escaping the crowds for even a short period of time. Up north his name is less well-known; what is a Jewish prophet in Gentile-land? As one commentator I read noted, we claim Jesus to be fully human, but we sometimes seem surprised that he acts fully human, as in someone who needs a rest now and then.
Then we get this most unsettling story of the Gentile woman who is desperate for healing for her daughter. Matthew also records this story (15:21-28), and he gives the beginning of it even more oomph. In Matthew's version, Jesus at first ignores her altogether and the disciples ask him to send her away because her shouting is annoying them. Both Matthew and Mark agree that Jesus then says one of the most disturbing things we ever hear him say. He tells her that he's sent to give food to the children of Israel first, and then says it's not fair to take that food and give it to the dogs. The implication, of course, is that she is a dog (translaters say that the word he uses implies house dogs, not street strays, but I think that is splitting hairs. It's still an insult).
Whoa! What happened to the inclusive Jesus, the one who breaks down barriers, the one who is not bound by the social conventions of his time? Is it because she's a woman? a Gentile? obnoxious? Is he testing her or his disciples (I and many other exegetes have trouble believing Jesus could be that cruel)? Is it that he is so tired, and that the job of trying to reach the children of Israel is so exhausting and seemingly fruitless that he can't imagine having the energy to reach out even further in his mission? Does his weariness lead his mouth on this rare occasion?
Well, if Jesus is tired, this woman is more tired. She's been dealing with a daughter who is "demon-possessed." Epileptic? Mentally ill? Who knows what the disease was, but what any one of us can imagine is how difficult every day was for her, trying to just get through the day with this sick child. She had a shred of hope here, and she wasn't about to give up that easily.
But look how she responded. She didn't chastise him for being so rude. She didn't defend her rights to his attention as a valuable child of God. She took his metaphor and rode it out, with boldness and grace. "Even the dogs get the leftovers," she told him.
Indeed. Mark clearly implies here that this woman's boldness, her bodaciousness, if you will, had an impact on Jesus. "For saying that, you may go, the demon has left your daughter." Her saying brought him up short, reminded him of who he was and what he was supposed to be about, perhaps. Her energy for healing fed him in his weariness, so much so that he could go from that house on a long journey and heal again in Gentile territory. The barriers were undoubtedly broken, now, and Jesus would not erect them again.
More tomorrow. Where is this story touching you? Shelly
Remember last week that Jesus frankly and boldly and unambiguously demolished the purity code of the Judaism of his time. He clearly declared all foods clean and that relationships are more important than ritual observances. So when the reading for this week begins, it looks like Jesus is going out to put his money (well, his work) where his mouth is. He heads into Gentile territory, Tyre and Sidon, in modern-day Lebanon. Why would Jesus make that journey if not to show that his gospel is not just for the Jewish people?
Actually, it seems at first that Jesus may be going north for a break. He has worked ceaselessly for weeks, having difficulty escaping the crowds for even a short period of time. Up north his name is less well-known; what is a Jewish prophet in Gentile-land? As one commentator I read noted, we claim Jesus to be fully human, but we sometimes seem surprised that he acts fully human, as in someone who needs a rest now and then.
Then we get this most unsettling story of the Gentile woman who is desperate for healing for her daughter. Matthew also records this story (15:21-28), and he gives the beginning of it even more oomph. In Matthew's version, Jesus at first ignores her altogether and the disciples ask him to send her away because her shouting is annoying them. Both Matthew and Mark agree that Jesus then says one of the most disturbing things we ever hear him say. He tells her that he's sent to give food to the children of Israel first, and then says it's not fair to take that food and give it to the dogs. The implication, of course, is that she is a dog (translaters say that the word he uses implies house dogs, not street strays, but I think that is splitting hairs. It's still an insult).
Whoa! What happened to the inclusive Jesus, the one who breaks down barriers, the one who is not bound by the social conventions of his time? Is it because she's a woman? a Gentile? obnoxious? Is he testing her or his disciples (I and many other exegetes have trouble believing Jesus could be that cruel)? Is it that he is so tired, and that the job of trying to reach the children of Israel is so exhausting and seemingly fruitless that he can't imagine having the energy to reach out even further in his mission? Does his weariness lead his mouth on this rare occasion?
Well, if Jesus is tired, this woman is more tired. She's been dealing with a daughter who is "demon-possessed." Epileptic? Mentally ill? Who knows what the disease was, but what any one of us can imagine is how difficult every day was for her, trying to just get through the day with this sick child. She had a shred of hope here, and she wasn't about to give up that easily.
But look how she responded. She didn't chastise him for being so rude. She didn't defend her rights to his attention as a valuable child of God. She took his metaphor and rode it out, with boldness and grace. "Even the dogs get the leftovers," she told him.
Indeed. Mark clearly implies here that this woman's boldness, her bodaciousness, if you will, had an impact on Jesus. "For saying that, you may go, the demon has left your daughter." Her saying brought him up short, reminded him of who he was and what he was supposed to be about, perhaps. Her energy for healing fed him in his weariness, so much so that he could go from that house on a long journey and heal again in Gentile territory. The barriers were undoubtedly broken, now, and Jesus would not erect them again.
More tomorrow. Where is this story touching you? Shelly
posted by shelly @ 1:10 PM
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