16th Sunday after Pentecost

Isaiah 35:4-7a; Psalm 146; James 2:1-17; Mark 7:24-37 

Mark 7:24-37

²⁴Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, ²⁵but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. ²⁶Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. ²⁷Jesus said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” ²⁸But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” ²⁹Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” ³⁰So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
 ³¹Then Jesus returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. ³²They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. ³³Jesus took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. ³⁴Then looking up to heaven, Jesus sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” ³⁵And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. ³⁶Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. ³⁷They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”

. . .

Survival Skills

Grace to you, beloved of God, and peace from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

When I read the texts today, enmity is the word that came to mind. The others are survival skills. 

I guess people feel the need to teach us and remind us to develop survival skills because aggression seems to be the way of the world and part of the core of the human tradition. Being able to at least protect ourselves from the aggression of other human beings seems to have been a necessary skill to live in society since the beginning of time. 

That primal pattern of behavior may have given rise to the day-to-day expressions the world uses today: elbow power, pushback, the shark tank, go-getters, etc. You certainly know more of those than I do. Sometimes, the offense is the better defense: attack before your enemy does. But what if we have the wrong idea about who our enemy is?

Enmity plays a role in the conversation between Jesus and this unnamed female stranger from the region of Tyre, who would be considered a child of God by the Israelites of the time. Plus, the Siro-Phoenicians did not always play nice in commerce with Israel and seem to have taken advantage of the Hebrews once upon a time. Cutting short, one would not place them on the same table for the wedding reception. 

Now, historical facts aside, who is this man? This is not the same kind and tender young man who is seen everywhere holding babies and sheep. No, ma’am. He calls the lady a dog and places her daughter’s needs below the pecking order. That is, below the children of God. Who she thinks she is, invading the private space of the savior of the world, unannounced. Go back to the line and wait for your fill. 

This encounter—and the parallel account in the gospel of Matthew—is the only one between Jesus and a female in which he is harsh this way. This is not at all how he interacts with women. In every other encounter, Jesus seems to be aware of their struggles and treats them with exceedingly empathy and kindness. That included the woman at the well, who was a stranger, too. This encounter does not fit the profile at all. 

Nonetheless, because of how Jesus restored the spirits of the marginalized, unseen, and forgotten, I wonder if this is the Son of God telling her he was aware of how she was being treated among God’s people in that region. 

Whatever Jesus’s motivations may be, the enmity could have easily escalated from there. She could have cursed him and walked away. She certainly is desperate for the healing of her beloved daughter, and her anxiety is over the roof. It took a lot of courage to be alone in the presence of a Jewish man. However, maybe her survival skills were not the same as others. She may have been even discouraged from seeking Jesus by being told she did not belong, that she was not worthy of it. Maybe that is the reason she sneaks in. 

That possibility makes what she says next so powerful and dignifying of a beloved child of God. Most English translations, including our own, get her saying, “sir.” What she actually says in the original Greek is much more profound. At probably one of the lowest moments of her life, desperate, grieving, vulnerable, feeling diminished, risking everything, what she says to him is, “Yes, Lord.”

Then Jesus does what Jesus does, even in lands where he would not belong.

He gives justice to those who are oppressed,
and food to those who hunger.
He sets the captive free.
Then he opens the eyes of the blind;
He lifts up those who are bowed down;
He loves those who trust him,
Jesus cares for the stranger.

Yes, Lord. Thanks be to God. Amen.