Showing posts with label #Mark 7. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Mark 7. Show all posts

Sunday, September 5, 2021

Hark, Hark, the Dogs Do Bark

September 5, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Psalm 145:1-13a; Mark 7:24-37[1]

Wow! Did you catch that? Jesus called that woman a dog. Where did that come from? He was probably exhausted from travel and mentally tapped out as well. He had just traveled from Galilee, where he had been arguing with the Pharisees again, to Phoenicia, which is modern-day Lebanon. He had hidden in a house “and did not want anyone to know he was there” (Mark 7:24). Then this local woman found him.

The Syrophoenician woman—we never learn her name—had the cards stacked against her. She was a Gentile, not a Jew, not one of the children of Abraham. She was a woman, and in those days, women just didn’t talk to men who were not members of their family. And to top it off, she caught Jesus on a bad day.

Wasn’t she hurting her cause to interrupt him as he rested? She was breaking customs, which made everyone around them uncomfortable. But she was desperate. She was driven by something more powerful than customs and protocol. Her daughter had been possessed by a demon, and she feared for the life of her daughter. What else could she do? She intrudes into the house and begs this Jewish holy man for help.

Jesus responds by telling this desperate woman that his mission is for the Jews and the Jews alone. He compares her to a dog looking for scraps. We squirm around in our seats, but it would not have been so out of character in those days for cultures to clash so rudely. Early Christians would have known that she was a pagan, and the healing of a foreign child by Jesus would be far more shocking than the words which offend us.

She must have been crushed, offended, deeply hurt. But, she can no longer bear the suffering of her child, so she does what she has to do. She responds with courage. She challenges the dismissal. She confronts Jesus, and it is this Gentile woman who teaches him, the Messiah, the true nature of his mission. Jesus is reminded of what he had just been teaching his followers: social conventions, like ritual hand washing before a meal, should not stand in the way of helping those in need. Indeed, she also challenges his derogatory label, calling to mind that it is the things that come out of us, our words and actions, which can cause harm and defile us.

One New Testament scholar remarks, “Could the story of the Syrophoenician woman be a kind of ‘conversion’ moment for Jesus, in which he realizes how (maybe in a very human moment of physical and mental exhaustion) he has lost sight of the point of his mission and has to be reconnected with it by someone assumed to be outside of it? Then for Mark the woman is more than simply rhetorically gifted: she is prophetic.”[2]

The Messiah is supposed to bring salvation to people of Israel, yes, but not only them. In Isaiah we read, “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). Up until this point, Jesus has been focused only on ministry with the Jews. This journey into pagan lands, meant to be an opportunity for retreat and renewal, is the critical moment when Jesus truly grasps the universality of his mission.

This courageous woman confronts Jesus, and it changes him. The love that this mother has for her child touches something deep within him, and he is moved. From this moment on, there will be a new focus, a new mission field. From now on the children of God will be understood to include more than a chosen few. Mark ends his Gospel with these words: “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15). And as we heard from the Psalm: “They shall speak of the glory of your kingdom, and tell of your power, to make known to all people your mighty deeds, and the glorious splendor of your kingdom” (Psalm 145:12).

Alas, I would be lying to you if I said that that the news proclaimed to all the world by Christians is always good. We Christians have not, as a whole, been very accepting or welcoming of people who are different from us. Our churches are much more likely to be segregated by race and culture than they are multi-racial or multi-cultural. Women find it much more difficult to hold a leadership role in the church, let alone be called as pastor. People of a certain sexual orientation or gender identity have heard in no uncertain terms that they are not welcome in most churches.

Somehow, the Syrophoenician woman got through to Jesus, and changed his heart. I have every reason to believe that if the heart of Jesus can be changed, so can mine, and so can yours. There are evil intentions in our hearts, but there are also good intentions. Sometimes it takes someone from outside of our comfort zone to help us realize that we are not expressing the best intentions of our hearts.

We are faced with an ever-growing list of serious problems that we need to address as a community, as a nation, and as a planet. In the first century, the poor, the widow, the orphan, the infirm, the mentally ill, the alien, and women had the cards stacked against them. In the twenty-first century, many of these people still live at the margins of society. We have become a nation more inclined to incarcerate people than rehabilitate them. Many of us still believe that people who are homeless or addicted to drugs must have brought it upon themselves. As the refugees from Afghanistan begin to arrive on our shores, does the voice of Lady Liberty still say “Give me your tired, your poor / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free”?[3]

If we are going to get rid of the demons that are eating away at us, we need to be more like the Syrophoenician woman. We need to decide that the people that we love and the issues of justice that lie close to our hearts deserve our courage. We need to decide that we can no longer bear the suffering of God’s children and confront those with the power to make a difference.

The desperate mother and a deaf man who wouldn’t be silenced are children of God just as much as we are. They matter just as much as we do. Jesus demonstrates the love of God that reaches beyond all barriers, beyond race, culture, age, gender identity, gender expression, sexual orientation, ability, or socio-economic status. We too must seek to love beyond all barriers.  Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Loye Bradley Ashton, Theological Perspective on Mark 7:24-37 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year B, Volume 4 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 44-48.

[3] Emma Lazarus, “The New Colossus.”

Sunday, August 29, 2021

Intentions of the Heart

August 29, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

James 1:17-27; Mark 7:1-23, selected[1]

“Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers” (James 1:22). This message from James may sound like common sense, but it was considered scandalous by Martin Luther, the Protestant Reformer. Luther called the Letter of James “an epistle of straw.”[2] For Luther, the Letter of James did not fit into his doctrine of justification by faith alone. What do I mean by that? Justification by faith is the theological principle that salvation comes to an individual by God’s grace through faith, apart from any works of merit. This is outlined by Paul in the letter to the Romans. In other words, we are “saved” not by anything we do, but only by faith in Jesus Christ. Luther had more appreciation for the “theological” letters of Paul than for this letter of James, which focuses its attention on the daily practice and acts or works of Christian life.

Of course, I think faith is very important. It’s part of my job description. But perhaps James was reacting to something he was experiencing in the early church. One commentary on James explains: “For some, justification by faith meant having faith without a commitment to others, without works. James, then, is trying to correct this idea by introducing works as an important element in justification.”[3] James saw a lack of integrity among those in the community to which he wrote. He criticized those who thought of themselves as if they were isolated individuals with no relationship to the wretchedness around them. He spoke out against those who were quick to speak and to get angry, but did nothing to change the circumstances that oppressed the poor, the orphan, and the widow.

We could offer that same critique to contemporary Christianity. Many of the attributes James criticizes are going on in churches today: hypocrisy, corruption, favoritism, gossip, divisiveness, navel-gazing, and a focus on saving ourselves for heaven rather than helping our neighbors escape the hell they are living in right now. If you have a big building that survived a hurricane, but you don’t offer to shelter those whose homes did not, I don’t think you actually have a church.

It is not only our failure to act, but also the words that we choose that can undermine the labor of love, justice, and peace. James tells us to “be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19). We all know that words spoken in the heat of anger are the ones we most often regret. Words that are motivated by fear, pain, and frustration are often the most destructive, and are a quick way to cause a break in our relationships. James counsels us to slow down, to think before we speak, before we cause harm with our mouths.

Jesus has a similar warning in the passage from Mark. It is the things that come out of us, our words and actions, which can cause harm and defile us. Racial slurs and stereotypes, labels that dehumanize and shame, oversimplification, and outright deceit are poison that destroys community and relationships, and eats away at us from the inside. We cannot be who we are called to be when we allow the evil within our hearts to spill out of our mouths. We cannot reflect the word of God unless we bridle our tongues, and speak instead from the love and kindness that are also implanted in our hearts.

James must have sat through his fair share of contentious gatherings, and maybe even a few political campaigns. He understood that unless anger is transformed, unless it is tempered with patience, anger alone cannot make things right. “Be quick to listen” (James 1:19), he says, because it is in listening and in being listened to that we open ourselves to a welcoming, trusting relationship with one another. It is hard work, especially for those of us who are impatient, quick to judge, or have already made up our minds, to listen, really listen, to the other person. Patient listening can, however, redirect anger toward solving the problem and not just treating the symptoms.

When we look in the mirror, what are we like? Are we “hearers of the word and not doers” (James 1:23)? Honestly, we all fall short of perfection. I know I do. And that is one of the reasons often given for why people are leaving the church: hypocrisy, and the way that we fail to live up to our rhetoric. All are welcome here, but if your toddler makes too much noise, or you haven’t showered recently, or your skin is covered with tattoos, you will probably receive some “looks” if not an overt indication that maybe you’re not really welcome.

What we need to remember, and to practice with one another as the Church, is that we are not perfect. We are not the Kingdom of God. We are not the community of saints. We are a community of people who are trying to become saints. We are the broken people of God trying to find the Kingdom. We are imperfect, “hearers who forget” (James 1:25), wicked, sordid, angry sinners. But we’re trying. And we must be patient with one another as we try. We must listen to one another, learn from one another, and grow in faith with one another.

The Letter of James calls on us to live up to a high standard. James is trying to elicit integrity from us, that is, consistency in hearing, seeing, believing, speaking, and doing. We’ve all heard the gospel stories, we’ve learned the Great Commandment; does that change how we act? Do we really love God with all of our being? What do we do that shows that? Do we really love our neighbors? What do we do that shows that? How is the way that we live informed by our faith?

I have a friend who is an aggressive driver. She was ordained a few years ago, and now she has a “clergy” sticker in her car window. I remember her telling me how now she has to be careful about how she reacts to the other drivers around her. I had one of those stickers too, and let’s just say, I take a lot of deep, calming breaths while driving.

There are evil intentions in our hearts. There is “fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly” (Mark 7:21-22). But, we were created by “the Father of lights,” from whom we receive “every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift” (James 1:17). These intentions are in our hearts too: generosity, kindness, love, faithfulness, hope, respect, peace, and truth. But we must do these things, not just hear them, not forget—when we turn away from the divine mirror—that we have light inside us that is longing to shine forth.

We have work to do. It is the work that was begun long ago by those in the Old Testament who cared for the widow, the orphan, the stranger. It was given a new life by Jesus of Nazareth, who always found the pressing issues of those in need to be more important than any dogma or fine theological point. It is the work of loving our neighbor actively. It is the work of showing evidence of our faith through our actions. It is the work of taking responsibility for our anger, learning to listen well, and becoming builders of the community of Christ.

Our work is to move ourselves and the world around us ever closer to becoming the realm of God. We are the first fruits, the early signs of God’s new creation. We can embrace both the good and evil intentions of our hearts, and take responsibility for our words and our works. We can, with humility, accept our potential for construction and destruction, and seek to develop the best in ourselves, in one another, and in our community. In this way, together, we can transform the world. Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Luther’s Works, vol. 35, Word and Sacrament I (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1960), pp. 395-397.

[3] Elsa Tamez, The Scandalous Message of James: Faith Without Works Is Dead (New York, Crossroad, 1985, 2002), p. 53.