Sunday, September 29, 2024

Esther Saves the Day

 Reverend Debbie Cato
Esther 7:1-10; 9:20-22
Fairfield Community Church
September 29, 2024


Let us pray:  Holy God, if we are uncertain and weary, speak to us. If we are grounded and hopeful, speak to us. If our faith feels solid and steady, speak to us, and if our faith feels shaky and tentative, speak to us. Keep speaking through your holy Word, O God, that we may find our voice in yours. Amen.

 

 Esther Saves the Day

 

Esther: the Old Testament Book without a single mention of God. In her commentary on this passage, Whitney Wilkinson Arreche says: “At the risk of complete oversimplification, I believe Scripture is often teaching us one of two things (or both at the same time): the nature and character of God, and the nature and character of people. Esther is a lesson in the nature and character of people.  It is a story rife with abuse, genocide, and power grabs. To reduce the story of Esther to a cozy tale of Hero Esther is not to read the story in its entirety.”[1]

Have you ever read the Book of Esther?  I encourage you to do so.  It’s a short book but it’s filled with adventure and intrigue.  It teaches a lot about human nature and how easily our character is influenced.  It’s a very important part of Hebrew Scriptures and an important event in Jewish History.  The Book of Esther is recognized and celebrated every year – and has been for thousands of years now. 

Here is a rough sketch of the pertinent details of the Book of Esther. The Jewish people were enslaved, nearly beyond hope, crushed under the weight of the Persians, led by the mighty King Ahasuerus. But because of one woman – Esther, the scales of fortune were tipped in the favor of those downtrodden, oppressed Jewish people.

The powerful King Ahasuerus, drunk with wine, wanted his wife Vashti to be paraded in front of his friends so they could ogle at her and “appreciate her beauty.” But Vashti, well she was tired of having her body be a spectacle for men. So, she refused. (Maybe Vashti should be the hero of this story. A hero for women. She risked her life by refusing to be paraded around his friends.)

The King threw her out of the palace and issued a decree that “every man should be master in his own home.” Jewish sources claim Vashti was not just banished but executed by her husband. But the Book of Esther does not tell us that.

The king did not wait long to replace Vashti. King Ahasuerus and his advisors, made it known throughout the region that King Ahasuerus required a new (younger) queen.

In comes a man named Mordecai.  Mordecai was a leader among the Jews that were enslaved to King Ahasuerus.  Mordecai heard the king wanted a new queen and knowing that his cousin Esther, whom he had raised since her parents died, was beautiful, he seized an opportunity. Esther was a poor Jewish woman, but once she was given a makeover by palace professionals and thrown into a beauty pageant worthy of Miss America, it didn’t make one bit of difference. What was raw beauty, became perfectly polished.  The king was smitten.  They were married. [2] (Notice Esther was not consulted in any of this.) 

One of my Old Testament seminary professor did not like Esther.  She called her a prostitute.  I think that was very harsh – Esther had no control over her circumstances. But she was used by Mordecai for gain.

No amount of makeup or perfume could erase Esther’s memory of her heritage and faith. And when her cousin Mordecai told her of a plot by Haman, the King’s right-hand man, to kill all the Jews, she knew she had to act.  She could not allow her people to be murdered.

And now we come to today’s reading from Esther. The scene was another lavish palace party where King Ahasuerus was enjoying a cup of his favorite wine with his favorite girl. Even though she could have been killed for directly addressing the king without being summoned, she went anyway. ‘What is your petition, Queen Esther?’ the king asked Esther. ‘It shall be granted you. And what is your request? Even to the half of my kingdom, it shall be fulfilled. Just name it.” Obviously, he was eager to please his new young, beautiful queen.

Esther knew she could manipulate the king.  I can picture her very carefully batting those immaculately mascaraed eyelashes at him and saying, “Please just spare the lives of my people. For we have been sold, to be destroyed, killed and annihilated.”

King Ahasuerus asks an odd question: “Who has done this?” Who has done this? Talk about passing blame! He is the king after all!  Do you really think he didn’t have a hand in all of the goings on in his kingdom, even (or maybe especially) the terrible ones?

But Esther was smart.  She does not mention his complicity (perhaps another reason he loved her).  Esther at her very core was cunning. Instead, she shouted with anger, “It is a foe and enemy, this wicked Haman!” She points at the man partying with them.  The king made a big show about being angry that someone would do such a thing to his wife’s people. And then a eunuch gave the king something to do with his anger.

The eunuch says one sentence, “Look, Haman was making gallows to hang Mordecai and they’re still at his house.” The eunuch wasn’t dumb.  He must have realized where his observation would lead. The king jumped at the chance for revenge, and Haman was hanged on his own gallows.

You will have to read all of Esther to hear what happens next!!  But our passage for today skips ahead a few chapters.  Esther has save the Jewish people from being killed.  They were spared from the evil of the powerful people that enslaved them.  The survivors, all the Jews throughout the region had a great celebration.  They celebrated by exchanging gifts with one another. They took special care of the poor.

Mordecai proclaimed that “they should keep the fourteenth day of the month Adar and also the fifteenth day of the same month, year by year, as the days on which the Jews gained relief from their enemies, and as the month that had been turned for them from sorrow into gladness and from mourning into a holiday; that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, days for sending gifts of food to one another and presents to the poor.’   This is where the Jewish festival of Purim finds its roots. Every year, in the month of Adar – which is March, the Jewish people celebrate Purim.

 During Purim, the Jewish people listen to a public reading of the  “The Megillah,” the Book of Esther,” the scroll that tells the Purim story once on Purim night, and again on Purim day.

 One of Purim’s primary themes is Jewish unity. Haman tried to kill all the Jews.  They were all in danger together and they were all saved together. So, they all celebrate together too. So, on Purim day, they place special emphasis on caring for the less fortunate. Traditionally, each Jew gives money or food to at least two needy people during the daylight hours of Purim. In case they cannot find any needy people, their synagogue will likely be collecting money for the needy. If that’s what you do, you must place two coins in a charity box earmarked for the poor. On Purim, a donation is given to whoever asks; his or her’s bank balance is not verified first.

On Purim the importance of friendship and community is emphasized by sending gifts of food to friends. On Purim day, each Jew sends a package containing at least two different ready-to-eat food items and/or beverages (e.g., pastry, fruit, beverage) to at least one Jewish acquaintance during the daylight hours of Purim. Men send to men, and women to women.

It is preferable that the gifts be delivered via a third party. Children, in addition to sending their own gifts of food to their friends, make enthusiastic messengers.

During the course of Purim day, family is gathered, maybe with an invited guest or two, and celebrate together with a festive Purim meal. Traditionally, this meal begins before sundown and lasts into the evening.

The table is festively decorated with a nice tablecloth and candles. Bread or challah are served as well as wine. Plenty of Jewish songs are sung. They sing, drink, laugh, and have fun together to celebrate that they were saved from extinction.

On Purim, children—and some adventurous adults too—traditionally dress in costumes, an allusion to Gods hand in the Purim miracle, which was disguised by natural events.

I respect and love so much that the Jewish religion continues to recognize and celebrate these important events in their history.  It’s our history too, friends.  Jesus was Jewish and his ministry was built on Jewish traditions and Jewish Scriptures. In Esther, we see that when the powerless are given a voice, when the corrupt powers that be are put in their place, there is cause for rejoicing. 

I remind you that in the Book of Esther, God is not mentioned. There is not even a whisper of God’s name. Perhaps God wants no part of this game, where people rise and fall but calculated power remains the same. Perhaps when an orphaned girl is shoved to a king, manipulated by her cousin Mordecai, and then becomes the very thing she despises, there is no room for God. [3] 

You see, if you continue to read in Esther, you will learn that Esther turned into someone who resembles Haman. She became someone she had opposed.  Someone she had been afraid of.  Just as Haman called for the destruction of her people, she called for the annihilation of his people.

She had 75,000 of them killed. And because that’s just not enough revenge, she had each of Haman’s ten sons hanged too. Where is God in such a hopelessly endless cycle of hatred and retaliation? Nowhere to be found, it seems.

And that cycle of revenge keeps on encircling peoples and nations, even into our time. On the festival day of Purim in 1942, Nazis hung ten Jews to “avenge” the hanging of Haman’s sons, some 23 centuries later. It seems hate has no expiration date. When this kind of game is played, no one wins. Certainly not God.

There are some hard questions that Esther causes us to ask.  Cycles of violence continue, generation after generation unless someone stops them.  Somone has to say, “No.  I am not going to take revenge.  I will not retaliate.”  We need to examine the ways women in particular, become pawns in these cycles.  Pray about what this text asks us to learn about humanity – for good or bad.  How is God calling us to be co-conspirators of liberation for all who bear the heavy burdens of institutional oppression?

Though God is not named in this text, is God really absent? Is God present in the breaking of cycles of violence and retribution that have plagued human beings for millennia? How can we partner with God in breaking these cycles? How might God’s silence speak volumes?  How might we imagine God’s presence if Esther had ended with her saving her people, and not her exacting a hellish revenge upon her enemies?  Think of the positive ending that would be.  No killing.  Just freedom for her people.

Ask yourself how and if you play a role in cycles of retaliation, resentment, anger, even hatred toward people that you are either close to or toward  peoples you don’t even know, but have judged. Maybe you’ve been told by others that “those” people should be hated.

Ask yourself what concrete things you can do to promote the principles of Purim:  reading meaningful scripture passages in community, caring for those in need, celebrating family and friendships with generosity and kindness, remembering all God has done to bless us.

What if we spent our time and energy focused on kindness and mutual respect instead of judging, excluding, and shunning?  What would our world be like if we all used the customs of Purim in our everyday lives?  Lots to think about friends.  And so applicable in today’s environment.  Amen.



[1] Whitney Wilkinson Arreche @ Presbyterian Outlook.  Commentary on the Lectionary.  September 29, 2024.
[2] Whitney Wilkinson Arreche @ Presbyterian Outlook.  Commentary on the Lectionary.  September 29, 2024.
[3] Whitney Wilkinson Arreche @ Presbyterian Outlook.  Commentary on the Lectionary.  September 29, 2024.

Sunday, September 22, 2024

Which Life Do You Choose?

Reverend Debbie Cato
Psalm 1
Fairfield Community Church
September 22, 2024 


Let us pray:  Lord, open our hearts and minds by the power of your Holy Spirit, that as the Scriptures are read and your Word is proclaimed, we may be renewed and transformed. Amen.

 

 

Which Life Do You Choose?

 

 

In his book Fear No Evil, Natan Sharansky, the noted Jewish dissident who eventually became a member of the Israeli parliament, tells how the books of Psalms saved his life during a long nine-year imprisonment by the KGB, the Soviet secret police.

Natan spent nine years in a punishment cell, a cold damp basement room that measured barely six feet square.  He endured thousands of hours of interrogation.  His one possession and constant companion during those hard years was a book of Psalms given to him by his wife, Avital.  Though he was not a religious man, Natan began reading the psalms.  Even memorizing them.  To his astonishment he found a striking affinity between his experience of bondage and the distresses articulated by many of the psalmists.  There prayers of lament became his own and their hope of deliverance became a gleam of light in his cell.  After nine grueling years, several confiscations and reluctant returns of his book of Psalms, he was finally transported to an airport outside Moscow for his trip to East Germany and freedom.

Sharansky’s release was choreographed by the Soviets to ensure the most favorable exposure for the world press.  When Datan got out of the car, he was minutes away from freedom and the end of his nine years of humiliation and suffering.  Datan asked, “Where is my Psalm book?”  “You received everything that was permitted,” answered the official in an unexpectedly rough tone.  Datan dropped to the snow, he began shouting.  “I will not move until you give me back my Psalm book.”

The Soviet photographers were aghast.  After a brief consultation, the official game him his book of Psalms.[1]

Early Christians, for example the Apostle Paul, sang psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs in prison.  Many of our worship songs and hymns come from Psalms.  In our troubled and traumatic times today, we can find deep meaning in the book of Psalms.  I encourage you not to discount the book of Psalms in all circumstances of your own lives.

Today we are looking at the first Psalm, a “Wisdom Psalm.”   It’s not necessarily a prayer or praise, it’s not a lament or plea for help.  Psalm 1 speaks to God’s truth and choice we make in our lives.  It is very general in its purpose.  In its simplicity it becomes the basis for understanding what all the other psalms are going to declare:  God is good, … and all other things outside him are bad.  Life with God is good, life without God … yeah, good luck with that! It’s about what God asks of his children and how they are to treat others and live life vs. what society says.  So, which do you choose?[2]

We live in a time and in a world that is trying to gain control of our thoughts, our mind, our actions, our decisions – and ultimately, our hearts.  It’s an image of a tree, and how a person who walks in the light of God is like that tree, planted next to streams of water.   To find peace within us, ultimately, it must take root in our hearts.

A tree that is healthy not only drinks from its healthy source, but as soon as that water becomes tainted it is no longer a healthy tree.  No longer is refreshing, cool, clean water being pulled into its roots.  Now, because the water is infected, the tree too, is infected.  All the chemicals and nasty runoff that made their way into the water are now circulating throughout the life of the tree.[3] 

Kelly VanderWoude, the author of “The Honesty of the Psalms” writes: “What starts out as clean, can quickly become polluted.  It’s the brokenness that we’ve come to know and experience.  And so, the tree and water become a beautiful metaphor for you and me (the trees) and holy and good water (God and His World) versus you and me (the trees) and polluted water (sin, destruction, everything outside the goodness of God.”[4]

Psalm 1 depicts two paths we can take. What’s striking about the path of the wicked is that we are never told what makes them “wicked.” Did they lie, steal or cheat? We don’t know. Instead, we are told they are like “chaff that the wind drives away.”

Chaff is a light, dry substance that, when caught by the wind, carries through the air in a flurry of aimless, spinning activity.

In a time when many of us find ourselves frequently overwhelmed and exhausted – endlessly carried by the winds of political favor (or disfavor), this image feels particularly resonant. And humbling. Because wickedness is not simply characterized by the big bad obvious sins. It can be as simple as busy rootlessness, aimlessness and emptiness.[5]  It can be as simple as false teachings, denigrating words, lack of empathy.

So, here’s the truth:  we cannot drink from the Word of God, from the Spirit of God, and also drink from things outside him.  Nor can we get healthy and be strong and true while continuing to ingest poisons that are around us.  We must drink solely from God and God alone and stay away from harmful things; harmful talk; harmful ideas.

The psalmist invite us to embrace the other option. We can be like the “blessed” in Psalm 1 — a grounded state of life that is deeply satiated, unburdened and at peace, regardless of the prevailing winds. We read that the blessed meditate upon God’s law.

The psalmist is telling us that we must be in the Word of God.  We must read scriptures, chew on them, and see its truth and relevance in our own lives.  But more than that, we must carry it with us and let it circulate throughout our bodies.  We cannot just read our Bibles and then say, “Whew!  I’m done now!”  Think about it.  You do not just take a sip of water when you are parched. Similarly, we cannot just take a one-time sip of the Bible.  We must drink it in.  Because just as water strengthens, cleanses, nourishes, and gives us what we need – so too does God’s Word.[6]

If we truly are believers of God’s word, we know it cannot stop there.  The truth is that our sins, our decisions in life, the things we are exposed to; all these things push us further and further from God’s teachings.  We walk away from our source of goodness.  While all along, God gives us exactly what we need: refreshing, life-giving, soul-restoring, eternal water.

So, spend time thinking about these questions:

1.      Which source do you drink from?  Why?

2.     Do your actions and decisions reflect “the path of the wicked” or God’s path?

3.     How is your time alone with God and his Word?  Is it important enough for you?

4.     What are some things you can do to drink more of God and less of this world?

Which life will you choose?  A life that stems from the goodness of God?  Or a life that is deeply influenced by the world around you?  It’s a big decision.   Choose wisely.  Amen.



[1] Full story as found in “Out of the Depths” by Pamela Scalise.  Westminster John Knox Prints. 2000.  Pages 1-2.
[2] “The Honesty of the Psalms” by Kelly VanderWoude. Credo Publishers.  2020.  Page 4.
[3] “The Honesty of the Psalms” by Kelly VanderWoude. Credo Publishers.  2020.  Page 4.
[4] “The Honesty of the Psalms” by Kelly VanderWoude. Credo Publishers.  2020.  Page 5.
[5] Presbyterian Outlook. Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost — September 22, 2024 by Bobby Hulme-Lippert.
[6] “The Honesty of the Psalms” by Kelly VanderWoude. Credo Publishers.  2020.  Page 5.

 


Sunday, September 15, 2024

Final Answer?

Reverend Debbie Cato
Mark 8:27-38
Fairfield Community Church
September 15, 2024 


 

Let us pray:  God of Knowledge, speak to us so that we may focus on divine things. Pour out your Wisdom upon us so to give us strength and understanding to take our cross and following you. Amen.

 

 


“Final Answer?”

 


How many of you are familiar with the TV Game Show “Who wants to be a millionaire?”  It first aired in August 1999 with Regis Philbin as the host.  The contestants sit in a chair and answer one question after another, each time the money gets bigger and bigger.  You can stop and take home the money at any point or move on and risk losing it all.  For most contestants, the gamble to win more money is often more enticing than the risk of losing it all, so they continue to play. When they give their answer, Regis gives them one more chance to change their mind – “Is this your final answer?” he asks.   “Final answer,” the contestant says.

Imagine that we are watching “Who wants to be a millionaire?” and Jesus is the host and the contestant, Peter sits across from him.   Peter answers question after question and now, he’s at the million-dollar question.  Answer this one right – Peter wins it all.  Answer wrong – he loses everything.

“For one million dollars, Peter,” Jesus says, “Who do people say that I am?”  I can see Peter, all excited… shaking in his seat… grinning from ear to ear.  “I know this one, Jesus,” Peter says, “You are the Messiah.”   “Final answer?” Jesus asks.  “Final answer.” says Peter.

 Final answer. What does it mean to believe that Jesus is the Messiah? What does it mean for His disciples? – for all followers of Jesus if He is the Messiah?  Peter certainly didn’t understand.  Do we?

 The first half of Mark’s Gospel is filled with accounts of Jesus’ healings, his miracles, and his exorcisms of demons.  It is filled with all his teachings to the crowds.  It’s filled with his teachings to his disciples. People wonder, “Who is this man that teaches with such authority?”  Some call him rabbi; some think he is John the Baptist, some Elijah the great prophet.   People speculate… but Jesus keeps his true identity quiet. 

Today, we begin the second half of Mark’s Gospel.  For the first time, Jesus begins to speak boldly about his true purpose and mission.  From here through the end of chapter 15, Jesus is traveling to Jerusalem.  He has completed his ministry in Galilee and Jesus is traveling toward his ultimate mission.  It is in these chapters that Jesus acknowledges who he is. He tries to teach his disciples what that means – for him; and for them. 

 It is in these chapters that we learn that Jesus must suffer and die.  While they travel toward Jerusalem, Jesus’ prepares his disciples for suffering.  Or at least, he tries. 

Peter’s confession distinguishes what the disciples know about Jesus from the common views about him.  Jesus acknowledges that he is the Christ, but Jesus still does not claim the title of Messiah.  The Son of Man did not come just to exercise authority on earth, but also to suffer.    Although Peter’s final answer that Jesus is the Messiah is right, that confession will be misunderstood if suffering is not the central truth about Jesus’ identity. 

Jesus will not claim the title of Messiah until he has suffered, until he has been crucified and risen from the dead.  It is through his resurrection, that Jesus IS the Messiah; the Christ.  The Messiah is Jesus unique role in salvation history, that is only achieved through his death on the cross. 

You see, when Peter gives his million dollar answer, he has a different definition of what a messiah means.  He doesn’t like Jesus’ talk about suffering.  He doesn’t like the talk about dying.  How can Jesus say this?  You’re wrong, Jesus!  The Messiah can’t suffer!

It’s natural, and even understandable that Peter should feel compelled to correct Jesus.  For Peter, it was unthinkable that Jesus would die.  But for Jesus, it was inevitable.  Suffering is the only way to destroy the stronghold of Satan, which is Jesus’ purpose from early in the Gospel.  

The disciples participated in Jesus’ ministry of teaching and healing.  Now they discover that they must also participate in the ministry of suffering.  Following Christ in self-denial and even in suffering is a necessary means of salvation.  One cannot follow Jesus except “on the way” of self-denial and the cross.

 Modern culture is exposed to the symbol of the cross primarily in jewelry or figures of speech.  We think of bearing a cross as putting up with an inconvenience or a hardship of some kind.  We even joke about it.

The symbol of the cross in the first century – when Mark’s readers lived, was vastly different!  It was an image of extreme repugnance!  The cross was an instrument of cruelty, of pain and shame.  The cross was a way to  dehumanize individuals.  The cross symbolized hated Roman oppression and was reserved for the lowest social classes.  It was the most visible aspect of Rome’s terror apparatus, designed especially to punish criminals, and deter those who opposed Roman power.  It was used to quash slave rebellions. 

 In 71 BC the Roman general Crassus defeated the slave-rebel Spartacus and crucified him and six thousand of his followers.  A century later, in Mark’s day, Nero crucified and burned Christians who were falsely accused of setting fire to Rome.  The image of the cross for Mark’s community suffering adversity under Nero, was not a sign of God’s grace, but rather of the identification as followers of Jesus and their faithfulness to the way of Jesus himself instead of Rome. 

The church continues to be a martyr throughout the world.  There are those in Southeast Asia that read and study their Bible in secret, knowing that if they are caught, they will be killed.  In our day, Christians who work to bring justice and peace to suffering peoples around the world are often victims of the violence they are trying to end.  Sometimes death squads single out religious leaders and missionaries for particularly brutal execution in the hope of frightening the people. 

Most of us aren’t asked to live that way.  To literally put our lives on the line for our beliefs.  To suffer that way for Christ.  But perhaps we need to consider whether there are situations in which public pressure does lead us to deny our faith.  To deny the core values taught by Jesus.

We know that our Christian faith is not always welcome in the workplace so, we learn to hide our Christian identity when morally questionable practices seem to be the order of the day. We keep our mouths shut when perhaps we ought to speak up and speak out. 

When we go to the polls, we forget the gospel teachings of justice and equity and love of neighbor, and instead vote in ways that benefit ourselves and hurt those without a voice.  We spend our money on things we think we need while people all around us are hungry and homeless.  We would rather deny others than deny ourselves.  These things are so small compared to what others suffer for their faith and yet how often do we fail?

Jesus warns Peter and the disciples - and us, that attempts to preserve our life from self-denial and suffering may jeopardize our very soul.  When the way of Jesus is more important than our own existence, we will secure our eternal being; but when our own existence is more important than Jesus, we will lose both Jesus and our existence into eternity. 

Confronted with the necessity of suffering, most people react exactly like Peter.  Jesus sets out the challenge for us to think as God does, not as human beings normally do.  Jesus’ healing miracles and his compassion for the crowds at the feeding miracles make it clear that God does not delight in human suffering. 

The disciples were sent out to heal as well as to preach the good news.  Yet danger lies in concluding that suffering and self-sacrifice are always
undesirable. Despite everything the Bible tells us about the suffering of truly righteous people, Christians frequently think that if we pray enough God will remove all trials from our lives.  When a loved one is diagnosed with a dreaded illness, we tend to pray for miraculous healing rather than pray for strength and courage and wisdom in dealing with the bad news.  When children continue to die by high powered weapons, we offer thoughts and prayers but no solution.  Somehow, we have grasped the Jesus of the miracles but have ignored the word of the cross. 

When confronted by the call to discipleship, disciples do not have a “both…and” choice – both Christ and our own lives.  The claim of Jesus is a total and exclusive one.  It does not allow a convenient compartmentalization of natural life and religious life; of secular and sacred.  The issue is who is in charge.  To say “Christ” is to give up the right to define what “Christ” means; it is to acknowledge His authority to define the term and with it the meaning of the confession.

Today’s text has great significance for us.  By leading to a clear understanding of the correct answer to the question “Who is Jesus?” this text points to a clear understanding of the question, “Whose am I?” 

 So, imagine you are the contestant and Jesus is sitting across from you.  He smiles and says, “Who do YOU say I am?”  A lot is at stake.  Your answer has eternal consequences.  What is your final answer? Amen.


Sunday, September 8, 2024

No! You Do Not Fit My Criteria

Reverend Debbie Cato
Mark 7:27-38
Fairfield Community Church
September 8, 2024 


Let us pray:  Gracious God, we know we do not see things clearly. Your Spirit offers clarity, wisdom, and understanding. Open our eyes so that these words of Scripture may bear witness to your true Word of God. In Jesus name we pray. Amen.

 

 

No! You Do Not Fit My Criteria

 

 

This is a hard passage. To be perfectly honest, I do not like preaching about this passage. Does Jesus really refuse to help a woman and her child in need? Does he really call her a dog?!  That does not sound like Jesus the healer and comforter. Maybe, my hesitation is because it makes me confront and examine my own hypocrisy. As a pastor who preaches God’s inclusive love, Jesus’ rejection of the Syrophoenician woman leads me to recognize how quick I am to say “no” to people who do not fit my criteria of those who deserve my help.

 I find myself judging when I see individuals – most often time men, standing on a corner with a sign asking for help. I decide that they do not deserve my help. Do you ever do that? Judge someone based on their appearance. Judge because they are so desperate for help that they willingly sit in a public spot with a sign asking for help. Judge before you know anything about their story. I don’t know about you, but I forget that they are beloved children of God too, no less deserving than I am.

The Syrophoenician woman had everything going against her when she pushed her way into Jesus’ presence.  She was a woman and a Gentile from the wrong side of the tracks.  She had no right to engage Jesus in conversation.  Imagine a homeless person interrupting the dinner of the president of the United States.  And Jesus is certainly more important than the president![1]

Despite the dictates of custom, this woman goes ahead and approaches Jesus.  She is driven by something more powerful than protocol; she is desperately afraid for her daughter’s life.  She bows before Jesus and begs him to cast the demon out of her daughter.  We expect a kind, loving Jesus to say, “Of course I will save your daughter.”  But instead, Jesus does not show his normal compassion.  Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs,” he says.  Jesus is telling this desperate mother that his mission is for the Jews and the Jews alone.[2]

I would have crept away, feeling small and insignificant.  Embarrassed that I had drawn attention to myself.  But not the Syrophoenician woman.  She boldly responds to Jesus’ rejection by saying, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

Remember last Sunday?  We read the passage right before this.  In that passage, Jesus rebuked the Pharisees for their hypocrisy, for the way they judged people according to tradition and doctrine instead of God’s commandments. Jesus quoted the prophet Isaish saying, “they honor God with their lips, but not their hearts.” Yet it seems, the first thing Jesus does is turn around and make a snap judgment about someone who bowed at his feet, desperate for help. If you have ever had a sick child, you know how desperate you feel.  Yet to this desperate, begging woman whose child Jesus can certainly heal, He says no.  Not only does Jesus say no, but he calls her a dog. 

This story is shocking for a variety of reasons. Jesus is uncharacteristically rude. He has no compassion.  He refers to the woman as a kynarion (kunarion), translated from Greek as “dog.”  This term was widely known throughout the ancient Middle East as an ethnic slur used by Jews against non-Jews. But remember, Jesus had already healed a Gentile, found in Mark 5.  So, why is he so put out by this poor woman’s request?  Why did he say his mission was just for the Jews?

We Christians are often tempted to soften Jesus’ words, make excuses for Him and avoid the difficult questions this text raises. How could Jesus be so quick to judge? Why would he withhold healing from this sick child? Why would the Son of God stoop so low and use a terrible racial slur?

But the insulted woman, outside Jesus’ tribe, speaks up.  “Even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumb,” she says.  Rather than scolding her, Jesus changes his mind. He reconsiders his stance. “For saying that,” Jesus responds, “you may go — the demon has left your daughter.”[3]  God’s love expands beyond all barriers.  Jesus’ mission is not restricted to the Jews.  It is for all people of all races.

The story that follows is another story about healing.  A deaf man with a speech impediment is brought before Jesus.  The people beg Jesus to lay hands on the man and heal him.  Being deaf in the first century was not only about not hearing or speaking clearly.  For many people, physical impairment of any kind was viewed as the consequence of sin.  People that suffered from blindness, deafness, or withered limbs had little or no status. They were often barred from participating in any social or religious activities.  They lived chastised lives.  

You see, in Jesus’ day, people were afraid of physical differences.  They did not understand the biology of birth defects as we do today.  When Jesus healed people, he not only corrected their physical problems.  He also restored them to community.[4]  

We humans are very tribal. Whether we realize it or not, we are constantly sorting people into categories — who belongs, who does not, who deserves our care and attention, who does not.

I consider myself to be pretty inclusive. I believe we should include more than we exclude. Yet, when asked for help by what I consider an unsavory person, I am quick to judge. I am quick to decide “No!  They do not fit my criteria for deserving help.” Maybe, that’s why Jesus decided not to help the woman at first. Maybe, it is why rather than help her, he pointed out her differentness, pointed out she was not Jewish.  Maybe, it’s the reason he used such a repugnant term.  

Jesus knew that his disciples were watching. They watched everything he did. He knew they would hear him.  He knew the people around him were listening.  Maybe, they were as shocked by Jesus’ language and actions as we are.  Maybe, that is what Jesus wanted.  Maybe ,he wanted them to stop and think – to think about times when they, like us, decide not to help someone because they are different.  Decide not to help because they do not fit into our criteria of worthiness.  Think about times we think “they are not one of us.” Times when we think its ok not to treat someone well. Times when we think it is O.K. to use derogatory language about them.

Fortunately, Jesus sees beyond our infirmities, beyond our ugliness.  Hesees everyone – the Syrophoenician woman, the man who suffered from deafness, the homeless man on the corner, and you and me, as valued children of God.  That’s why whenever Jesus heals, whether it’s a demon-possessed girl, a man with leprosy, a bleeding woman, or a deaf man, he heals not only their bodies, but their fracture from community.[6] 

Human beings suffer from a deep insecurity that pushes us to create rules that give status and value to some while denigrating others.  In the first century, the poor, the infirmed, the orphaned, the mentally ill, the alien, and many women lived with extremely low status – if any.  In the twenty-first century, many of these people still live at the margins of society.  And, there are some who want to add to the groups of people that are considered unwanted, unneeded, unworthy.  We think we can decide who should be forgiven or accepted.  Those who it’s O.K. to exclude.  There continues to be a sense that if people end up homeless or on drugs, they are weak or at fault.  Our society teaches us to shun people who are dirty, who are smelly, or are unkept.  We are taught that there is nothing wrong with deciding some people are undeserving of the same rights and privileges as those in power.

Both the Syrophoenician woman – a woman of a different race and class, and the hearing-impaired man, were children of God.  We must recognize that there are no external barriers between God and any other human being; not race, class, ethnicity, gender, age, or physical condition.  As followers of Christ, as people of the Way, we should not have barriers between us and other humans, either. 

Perhaps it is too much to ask that a homeless person could interrupt the dinner of the president of the United States to ask a favor.  But it is not too much to ask humanity to recognize that there are no walls made of withered hands, deaf ears, troubled minds, or troubled lives separating us from God.  From God’s favor, or us from each other.  Once we acknowledge that there are no walls separating us, love and mercy freely flow between one another, and all are deemed equally valuable.[7]  All can live a God-ordained life.

We all belong. We are all worthy. Every single one of us. Thanks Be to God!  Amen.

 

 



[1] Feasting on the Word.  Year B, Volume 4.  Pastoral View. Amy C. Howe.  Pg 44
[2] Feasting on the Word.  Year B, Volume 4.  Pastoral View. Amy C. Howe.  Pg 44
[3] Teri McDowell-Ott @ Presbyterian Outlook.  Commentary August 23, 2024.
[4] Feasting on the Word.  Year B, Volume 4.  Pastoral View. Amy C. Howe.  Pg 46
[5] Teri McDowell-Ott @ Presbyterian Outlook.  Commentary August 23, 2024.
[6] Feasting on the Word.  Year B, Volume 4.  Pastoral View. Amy C. Howe.  Pg 46
[7] Feasting on the Word.  Year B, Volume 4.  Pastoral View. Amy C. Howe.  Pg 48