Crumbs from the Table

So we are talking about miracles, and we turn

now to a miracle from Mark's gospel. As we do,

just a bit of a prologue to this story. When

we lived in Michigan, our home, our lot had...

four large black walnut trees, and every three

or four years, a black walnut tree drops walnuts,

lots of them, but they come down looking like

green racquetballs. They're big and round. They're

surrounded by this fleshy pod, and then inside

that fleshy pod, which has the black dye in it

that is really useful for staining wood and kids'

clothing. There is a nut, right? So you have

to get through that mess to get to the nut. But

then once you get to that nut, it's not like

a regular walnut where you can take a nutcracker,

break it open, pick out the meat of the nut,

the part you want to eat. Black walnuts are...

tough, tough things. And I had some advice from

people who'd lived in Michigan a long time that

they like to use the vice clamp on their workbench

to crank the thing, to crack the nut. But once

you get inside, you really have to pick through

the narrow veins of the shell to get at the nut,

all of which is to say, that's what this story

is this morning. The story is not like a walnut

where you just break it open and enjoy the fruit,

right? You have to work a little harder with

this story. So with that preface in mind, let's

pray. God, let us hear what you want us to hear

so that we might be who you want us to be and

do what you want us to do. Amen. So our reading

is from Mark chapter 7, starting with verse 24.

Mark 7 · chapter mention

Let us listen together for God's Word to us.

From there Jesus 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. A woman whose little daughter

had an unclean spirit immediately heard about

him, and she came down and bowed at his feet.

Now the woman was a Gentile of Syrophoenician

origin. She begged him to cast the demon out

of her daughter. He said, let the children be

fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's

food and throw it to the dogs. But she answered

him, sir, even the dogs under the table eat the

children's crumbs. Then he said to her, for saying

that, you may go. The demon has left your daughter.

And when she went home, she found the child lying

on the bed and the demon gone. This is the word

of the Lord. Thanks be to God. So is Jesus just

kind of a jerk? Last week, in the story where

Jesus turns water to wine, do you remember Mary

goes to him and says, they've run out of wine,

and Jesus says, woman, not my problem. eventually

goes on to turn the water to wine, as we know,

and now a woman comes to Jesus desperate for

the healing of her daughter, and he says, let

the children be fed first. Now, every parent

has had the experience where their child comes

up to them asking a perfectly innocent, normal

question, but just asks at the wrong time, right?

And we, as parents, fallible as we are, our response

might be less than gracious. We might snap at

our children. Is this what's going on? Is Jesus

just irritable in this story? Jesus is far from

home. He's among Gentiles. Is he just letting

centuries -old prejudices overrule his compassion?

If any of us were in his shoes, in any of these

kinds of scenarios, it's an easy call. We're

just irritable. We're just judgmental or we're

just a jerk or all of the above. It's not a hard

call for us. But for Jesus, it's different, isn't

it? It seems unlikely that any one of these explanations

would be satisfactory in understanding why Jesus

responds this way. Also, it's too easy. It's

too easy to just say, Jesus was having an off

day. Jesus woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

We just let the interpreter off the hook. We

take the easy way out if we say that about Jesus

in this story. So there are two related issues

that we have to tangle with in this story. One

is what Jesus says to the woman, and the other

is who this woman is. We'll start with the second

of those, who this woman is. Mark tells us that

Jesus and his disciples have gone to the region

of Tyre. It's a coastal city. It's in a region

called Phoenicia, which is controlled by Syria.

This is well north of Galilee, Jesus' home area,

his home turf. And Galilee itself is well north

of Jerusalem. Jesus has gone far afield. And

Mark tells us that Jesus did this on purpose.

Jesus was getting out of Dodge. Mark says he

went away. He did not want anyone to know that

he was there. So he's not in Judea. This is Gentile

country. And Gentiles are simply the not Jews

of the ancient world. Any people in the ancient

world who is not Israel is a Gentile. They have

different customs, different diets, different

beliefs, different gods. They are the embodiment.

of the threat that outsiders pose to the identity

and the faithfulness of God's people. The people

of Israel are instructed throughout the Old Testament

to keep a kind of distance from the nations,

the Gentiles. The best thing to do is to avoid

them. And this is who this woman is. She is one

of them. So now, let's look at what Jesus said.

Now remember, this woman's little daughter, her

little daughter is suffering. She bows down at

his feet. She begs him to help. And Jesus says,

let the children be fed first, for it is not

fair to take the children's food and throw it

to the dogs. The children here are the Jews,

God's people, right? The Gentiles are the dogs,

everyone else, them, this woman. Now, dogs was

a fairly common insult that Jews would often

level against Gentiles, but it doesn't seem to

be how Jesus is using it here. The word Jesus

uses is not the normal word for dog that might

call to mind those animals scavenging around

trash heaps in the ancient world. Jesus uses

a slightly diminutive version of that word which

would be used for, among other things, a household

pet. And that actually fits. the analogy that

Jesus is using pretty well. The analogy that

Jesus uses is about dinner at home and children

and, as it turns out, pets. Now, I have read

a number of commentaries to try to make sense

of this story, and there are two common interpretations

that we need to just set aside right out of the

gate. One... is that because this is a pet dog

that Jesus is using in that word, it makes it

endearing. That what he says to this woman has

a sweetness to it because it's a little dog.

Let the children be fed first because it's not

fair to throw their food to the puppies. I'm

not sure puppies makes it any better. The other

interpretation that some prefer is that Jesus

said this with a twinkle in his eye. We can't

hear how Jesus said it. We can only read the

words on the page. But Jesus said it warmly to

the woman. The problem with these answers is

that they imagine Jesus being somehow coy or

lighthearted with this woman. And those stories,

when we read the words on the page, they just

don't pass the smell test. Also, Here is a woman

who is desperate. She is desperately worried

for her little daughter. This woman is not in

a joking mood. And it would be the coldest kind

of compassion for Jesus to joke with her while

she is on tenterhooks waiting to find out if

she will get the healing for her daughter that

she is seeking. The best approach here is to

accept that Jesus means what he says. But then

we have to make sense of what Jesus says. When

you or I encounter a stranger, which happens

all the time, we often notice the differences

between us and that person. Gender, age, class,

ethnicity, culture. We're not passing judgment

necessarily. Of course, sometimes we do, but

really we're just absorbing, taking in a variety

of different signifiers from another person that

help us form an impression about this person.

We do this all the time. It happens subconsciously.

Now, if we were to make a comment based on that

impression, a comment, say, similar to Jesus'

comment to the woman, we would be accused of

profound insensitivity, a kind of insensitivity

that probably has a label to go with it, a label

that probably ends with "-ism." Sexism, ageism,

classism, racism, take your pick, right? Now,

we read a story like this, and we have a hard

time not seeing Jesus in this light as being

profoundly insensitive to this woman. Now today

we live in a more or less, more or less, egalitarian

society, a pluralistic society. Many differences

exist, but we don't typically treat those differences

as essential, as fundamental. We don't see them

as the sort of things that should define a person's

place in society. We don't see them as the sort

of things that should dictate how and whether

we interact. or share common spaces. These differences,

we understand, they call for tolerance. They

call for sensitivity because we recognize that

beneath all of these contingencies of race and

class and so on, there is a fundamental commonality,

a shared humanity. And this is not the world

that Jesus lived in. The differences between

Jesus and this woman are profound. And both Jesus

and this woman are well aware of those differences.

And they are precisely the kinds of differences

that should, at that time, define status. That

should dictate whether and how social interaction

should take place. Common spaces should be shared.

If this scene happened today, the woman is the

bold hero and Jesus is the insensitive villain.

But in the first century, that assessment fails

completely. Jesus purposefully went to a place

not only where no one would know him, but where

the cultural And the religious and the ethnic

gulf between him and the people of that place

would be the widest he could possibly achieve

so that he could be left alone. And so what is

violated in this story is not sensitivity, but

propriety. The woman, in her need, improperly,

crosses that gulf between her and this Jewish

man. And Jesus could have sent her away. Jesus

should have sent her away. In fact, in Matthew's

gospel, that's what his disciples tell him to

do. They say, Jesus, send her away. But instead,

Instead of naming her impropriety, instead of

saying, look what you've done, you can't do this,

instead of naming, listing the things that separate

her from him, instead, he uses an analogy to

express how wide the distance is between her

and those to whom his ministry is directed. It's

about the distance. Between the children of a

household and their pets. And the woman, notably

in this story, is not offended. She should be.

By our standards, she should be offended. But

she's not. She hears what Jesus says for what

it is. A statement of fact. Yes, in fact, there

is a wide gulf in between us. She seems to know

that she is improperly crossing that gulf. And

since she is not offended by what Jesus says,

we should not be offended either. So we have

finally cracked open the walnut. It took us a

while to get here, but now finally we can get

to the heart of this story. Because behind...

And underneath Jesus' apparent rudeness, there

is something else there that offends us. It's

the theological elephant in the room. Does Jesus

really only care about Israel? About God's chosen

people? Is that really the only reason He's carrying

on this ministry? Is His ministry that limited?

Is His purpose that narrow? Even healing this

woman's daughter really doesn't settle these

questions. She might just be the exception that

proves the rule. He happened to do it that one

time, but that was special because he was so

far out of the Judean world. Among the many tensions

that exist in this brilliant story is the tension

between the particularity of Jesus and the universality

of the gospel. We are going to see that universality

next Sunday. Next Sunday is the day of Pentecost.

And if there is one crystal clear example of

the universal scope of the gospel, it is Pentecost.

But today, it's the particularity that is on

full display. One of my favorite movies growing

up was The Karate Kid. the original. There have

been lots of them since then. But in this story,

a young boy, Daniel LaRusso, moves from New Jersey

to the Los Angeles area. He starts getting picked

on by kids at school, and he wants to learn how

to defend himself. And so he finds Mr. Miyagi,

an aging war veteran who knows martial arts.

And Daniel prevails upon Mr. Miyagi to teach

him karate. And Mr. Miyagi gives him two rags

and shows him how to wax his car, right? Wax

on, wax off, right? Maybe the most famous scene

from that movie. He makes Daniel do other things

as well. Daniel has to paint the fence up and

down, up and down. Daniel has to get on his hands

and knees and sand the floor. Eventually, it

all becomes too much. And Daniel vents his frustration

to Mr. Miyagi. Why are you making me do all these

ridiculous things? And Mr. Miyagi suddenly shows

him that all along Daniel had been learning some

of the basic movements of karate. And Mr. Miyagi

shows him how the wax on, wax off movement repels

an attack. And I don't remember how the rest

of the stuff works, but apparently this is good

for karate. Mr. Miyagi has a narrow strategy

with Daniel that accomplishes a much broader

purpose. And that strategy, when it's poorly

understood, is frustrating. But only until that

broader purpose starts to come into focus. Out

of all of the peoples of the world, God chooses

Abraham and Abraham's descendants. A very narrow

strategy. But God chooses Abraham so that all

the families of the earth will be blessed. A

narrow strategy, but a broad purpose. God is

incarnate in Jesus Christ. One man. A Jew. At

a particular place. At a particular time. A very

narrow strategy, but through this Jew. And through

his ministry to the Jewish people, God's saving

love goes out to all the world, a narrow strategy

with a broad purpose. The problem that we often

have is we look at a narrow strategy and we assume

a narrow purpose. And as long as we count ourselves

among the chosen, we're good. God's work throughout

history, more broadly, And Jesus' work, His ministry

in particular, they are for the benefit of a

select few. And we happen to be one of those

select few. This understanding of God requires

a very small view. Small view of God, a small

view of Jesus, and a very small amount of faith.

From the inside of the chosen people, things

are comfortable. We don't have to expand our

understanding, narrow, small, it's all fine with

us. But this woman comes along with a very different

perspective. She sees in Jesus a ministry that

will break down barriers. She sees goodness that

will not be contained. She sees the possibility

of healing not just for Israel, but for the whole

world. In short, she sees Pentecost long before

the disciples have even begun to imagine how

big this thing is going to get. When Matthew

tells this story, Jesus says to the woman, great

is your faith. Now, it's not lost on me. We are

about to share this meal. And what we are about

to eat amounts to crumbs from the table. Quite

literally, we're only going to give you this

much bread. Right? We are Gentiles who have been

made children of God. We are the fruit of that

narrow strategy. and that universal purpose.

We are a testimony to that woman's great faith.

And when we gather around this table, we reaffirm

her vision and we make it our own. We receive

the goodness of God, goodness that has been shared

freely, widely, universally. And then we go out

into the world to do the same. Let us pray. God,

may we see in the work of Jesus, and may we see

in the witness of this unnamed woman, the broad

scope of your work in this world, the depth of

your love, and the breadth of your mercy. In

Jesus' name we pray. Amen.