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.

 

 

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[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