What a lovely story we have today - a fairy tale right in the Bible. A beautiful Queen who shows great courage, and a King who shows great wisdom. Or is it?
One of the things the lectionary doesn’t do is give us entire stories. In this case we’ve missed the opening of the story, and the middle - which are pretty critical parts. So let me tell you the rest.
In 589 BCE King Cyrus decreed an end to the forced captivity of the Hebrew people. One hundred years later, the story begins with King Xerxes and his wife Vashti, considered a most beautiful woman; Xerxes ordered Vashti to parade herself in a kind of beauty pageant; Vashti refused. Because of her refusal, Xerxes ordered her killed - and then searched the kingdom for another woman to be his queen. Esther was found, and became the wife of the King. Her uncle, Mordecai, also her guardian, suggested that she not say that she was a Jew.
The King’s adviser Haman plotted to get rid of Mordecai, and slaughter the Hebrew people. Mordecai learned of the plot, and sent a message to Esther, who decided to speak with the King. Two nights in a row, Esther and Haman and the king had dinner, and Esther told Xerxes that she was a Jew. She asked him to spare her people. When Xerxes learns it is Haman who is the leader of this movement, Haman is hung on the very gallows which was to be used for Mordecai.
Here’s the missing part before we get to the feasts and celebrations. The Jews, led by Mordecai, then proceed to slaughter virtually everyone perceived to be an enemy. The edict for the killing was extended for an extra day, and the ten dead sons of Haman were hung in public. It is a violent and bloody massacre, ostensibly in self-defense.
Then, because the Hebrews were spared, the people are told to celebrate and feast their deliverance, on the 14th day of the month which had been set for their extermination. This is the beginning of the Feast of Purim. It is not a Holy Day, but nevertheless a day of observance. They dress up in costumes, and have big parties - but during the party time everyone stops while the whole story of Esther is read.
Rev. Judith Evenden, says that “at one level it is a great story of victory over oppression.” The victory of Esther, and in fact the courage of Vashti! Where all of us preachers get squeamish is the massacre, after the threat of their being killed had passed. Judith asked for some comments from Rabbi Ruth Abusch-Magder. (1)
“This is a relatively late biblical book. The story is one that has no connection to history in a way that makes sense. As a result, one must view it as a farce; a carnival story written by a diaspora people, disempowered and imagining their potential to reinvent themselves and avenge the wrongs perpetrated upon minorities.” (2)
So at one level this is nothing more than the wishful dreaming of a people in exile - a king who is a buffoon, a cartoon-character villain who comes to a sad end, a woman who outsmarts most of them.
“One of the four ritual obligations at Purim is to read Megillat Ester, the scroll of Ester. We are obligated to listen to the whole story, start to finish. Despite what one might think sitting in a contemporary synagogue with noisemakers, we are obligated to hear every word of the story. We cannot gloss over the challenging parts. We need to pay attention to the frivolity of the King, his excess of food and drink, and the consequences for those in his immediate family and those over whom he reigns. The Jewish people are both the victim and the beneficiaries of the King's tendency to indulge. His lack of involvement allows for his advisor Haman to pursue a personal vendetta against the Jews. But his fondness for food and drink (and beautiful ladies) draws him to Ester's feast where he is persuaded to save the Jews.” (3)
In fact, the house of King Xerxes is not a house ruled by wisdom. Xerxes prizes only the beauty of his wife Vashti. His murder of her sets back women’s freedoms throughout Persia; internal plots and intrigue bring the life of the entire Israelite nation to be in danger. Esther’s actions do save the day, but they leave the Persians not in awe of God, but in mortal fear of the Israelite people. Her request that her people be spared results not in peace, but in a death warrant based in the rationale of self-defense. To the contrary, Esther’s actions kindle a violent civil war.
We watch Haman, whose single-minded evil and anger leads to his undoing. We learn that physical survival is full of challenge. For Esther, surviving means giving up her name and community, going into hiding, being sexually compromised. Mordecai has to give up his ability to protect her, and has to rely on the protection of others. (4)
If we use the Hebrew practice of ‘midrash’, interpreting the text in its historical context, and then interpreting it for modern times, one of the messages that sits in this story is the ability of those who are oppressed to become the oppressor, and we see that the lines between power and powerless, frivolity and insanity are not as clear as we might like to think.
For example, Zimbabwe. From being a revered leader of an oppressed people, Robert Mugabe has become the oppressor, even of his own people. He demonstrates clearly that those lines are not as clear as we might like. Think back to Idi Amin and the nightmare of Uganda; or the horrors of Angola.
The Jewish people have been the object of hatred in many parts of the world for centuries. Six million Jews were exterminated during World War II. Many Jews changed their names, or lied about their origins, just as Esther did - fearing persecution. As of 1950 the historic home of both Jew and Arab was divided into Israel and Palestine. Yet in its claims of self-defense, Israel has slaughtered many, even while holding up the Holocaust to the world. Land which is rightly that of Palestine is being taken over and settled. In my mind this is an example of the oppressed becoming the oppressor.
But Israel is not all to blame. The Palestinian leaders deliberately provoke response. They know full well that if they attack Israel the response will be swift and devastating. Innocent people are used as shields and become collateral damage. Should Palestine ever get the upper hand, I am sure they would do exactly what is being done. Both claim they act in self-defense.
I keep returning to Rabbi Ruth’s comment - that the lines between power and powerless are not as clear as we might like to think. So how does this relate to us as Christians? On a global scale it’s not hard to comment, but what about the local?
The characters in the story did not use their power for the good of others, except perhaps Esther. The king, Mordecai and Haman had power and each used it unwisely; Esther, who was supposedly powerless, found great power and used it wisely.
Here in this congregation I think the question is how do each of us use our power? Do we try to use it to be destructive, or do we use it to build up others around us, for the good of the whole. - or do we use that power to try to tear down? We all have power - whether or not we have identified it. I believe the lesson we can take from this story is how we use the power we have to build our congregational community, the body, so that the whole body is healthy and productive.
Sources:
1. Rev. Judith Evenden, Land o’ Lakes Emmanuel United Church congregation.
2,3,4. From a sermon by Rabbi Ruth Abusch-Magder, scholar in residence at University of Chicago Hillel, Director of Joint Commission on Sustaining Rabbinic Education.
5. Feasting on the Word, essay by Telford Work, Associate Professor of Theology, Westmount College, Santa Barbara, CA. 2009.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The Perfect Woman, or Something Else Proverbs 31:10-31 September 20, 2009
A friend of mine is the living embodiment of superwoman. She cleans every room in the house a couple of times a week, has a huge vegetable garden, works in a nursing home, cooks fantastic meals every day, does handcrafts, and is the church secretary. If asked, I would bet she will say it is her Christian duty as a wife to do all those things - and the outside jobs are so she can enjoy her passion of cruising.
Well, I remember being like that - trying to keep up with four kids, clean the house from top to bottom, freeze and preserve veggies for the winter, make jam, do handcrafts - and hold down a job at the same time. That was what a good and capable wife did, right? The perfect woman. In fact, a lot of women of my generation and since - have bought into the notion that they have to do all those things to be a good wife. If they want to do something else, they would be criticised. In fact, statistics show that even today, in most households, women do the major share of the work as well as working outside the home.
James Hopkins writes: “In the church of my youth.....Proverbs 31:10-31 was the passage of choice on Mother’s Day. ‘A mother’s work is hard.’ we were told as our pastor interpreted the scripture. ‘Those of you who are godly mothers deserve our praise.’ ran the sermon. ‘Those of you who were raised, those of us who are being raised, by mothers who labor long and hard on our behalf need to thank God and thank those women.’ This was all fine and good. The problem was that the same church was against women in the pulpit, women in public places of power, women who rejected the traditional roles of wife and mother; they were subservient members of the community. Any mention of equal rights for women was put down. A message which has been taken from this passage is that for a woman to live up to God’s expectation of her, she has to be a ever-resting, always striving overachiever who always puts herself last.
This particular passage from Proverbs has been trotted out since time immemorial as an example of what a good wife should be. The problem is, when we try to read scripture through the lenses of our own era, the danger of misinterpreting is high. To read any scripture solely through the eyes of our own time is as much an error as it is to take scripture as literal.
Well, you all know I am not interested in interpreting the Bible literally - that’s a grave mistake and doesn’t help us to learn. And it’s too easy because it requires no real though.
So let’s take a slightly closer look. First, this is in fact a poem, something we would not know because we don’t read Hebrew. It is an acrostic poem arranged in alphabetical order; the first letter of each line is a letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Put together with earlier passages about wisdom, it becomes clear that this is more than a human woman. It is about Woman Wisdom - and the husband of the passage is a kind of stand-in for the followers. The poem portrays the benefits to anyone who chooses to become wise. The passage opens with the question “A strong woman, who can find?” As well as commenting on the warrior-like qualities of Wisdom, it notes that life with Wisdom begins with a search. Wisdom has to be sought out, is not easily acquired, but when attained is “more precious than jewels”. Life with Wisdom is a life of devotion and trust, and brings benefits to the household of Wisdom.
The poem moves back and forth between the life of a wife and mother and the personification of the virtues which display wisdom. So rather than being about a perfect woman and wife, it is about the personification of wisdom. It is about the universal values that sustain humanity. Integrity in personal relationships; opening our hands to the poor; doing what is there to be done, but doing it with a sense of humour; looking out for those around us.
Perhaps we can also take these qualities and use them as a tool for our own self -assessment - not in the sense of comparing ourselves to other individuals, or to other congregations, but just looking clearly at ourselves. Do we value trust and integrity, compassion and wisdom, gentleness and strength of character. In fact, this passage is about reverence for God, and how we live our lives in that reverence. It is about the wisdom that comes from understanding God, the awe of God.
Sources:
1. Rev. David Shearman, Owen Sound, ON.
2. Rev. James Hopkins, Lakeshore Avenue Baptist Church, Oakland CA.
Well, I remember being like that - trying to keep up with four kids, clean the house from top to bottom, freeze and preserve veggies for the winter, make jam, do handcrafts - and hold down a job at the same time. That was what a good and capable wife did, right? The perfect woman. In fact, a lot of women of my generation and since - have bought into the notion that they have to do all those things to be a good wife. If they want to do something else, they would be criticised. In fact, statistics show that even today, in most households, women do the major share of the work as well as working outside the home.
James Hopkins writes: “In the church of my youth.....Proverbs 31:10-31 was the passage of choice on Mother’s Day. ‘A mother’s work is hard.’ we were told as our pastor interpreted the scripture. ‘Those of you who are godly mothers deserve our praise.’ ran the sermon. ‘Those of you who were raised, those of us who are being raised, by mothers who labor long and hard on our behalf need to thank God and thank those women.’ This was all fine and good. The problem was that the same church was against women in the pulpit, women in public places of power, women who rejected the traditional roles of wife and mother; they were subservient members of the community. Any mention of equal rights for women was put down. A message which has been taken from this passage is that for a woman to live up to God’s expectation of her, she has to be a ever-resting, always striving overachiever who always puts herself last.
This particular passage from Proverbs has been trotted out since time immemorial as an example of what a good wife should be. The problem is, when we try to read scripture through the lenses of our own era, the danger of misinterpreting is high. To read any scripture solely through the eyes of our own time is as much an error as it is to take scripture as literal.
Well, you all know I am not interested in interpreting the Bible literally - that’s a grave mistake and doesn’t help us to learn. And it’s too easy because it requires no real though.
So let’s take a slightly closer look. First, this is in fact a poem, something we would not know because we don’t read Hebrew. It is an acrostic poem arranged in alphabetical order; the first letter of each line is a letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Put together with earlier passages about wisdom, it becomes clear that this is more than a human woman. It is about Woman Wisdom - and the husband of the passage is a kind of stand-in for the followers. The poem portrays the benefits to anyone who chooses to become wise. The passage opens with the question “A strong woman, who can find?” As well as commenting on the warrior-like qualities of Wisdom, it notes that life with Wisdom begins with a search. Wisdom has to be sought out, is not easily acquired, but when attained is “more precious than jewels”. Life with Wisdom is a life of devotion and trust, and brings benefits to the household of Wisdom.
The poem moves back and forth between the life of a wife and mother and the personification of the virtues which display wisdom. So rather than being about a perfect woman and wife, it is about the personification of wisdom. It is about the universal values that sustain humanity. Integrity in personal relationships; opening our hands to the poor; doing what is there to be done, but doing it with a sense of humour; looking out for those around us.
Perhaps we can also take these qualities and use them as a tool for our own self -assessment - not in the sense of comparing ourselves to other individuals, or to other congregations, but just looking clearly at ourselves. Do we value trust and integrity, compassion and wisdom, gentleness and strength of character. In fact, this passage is about reverence for God, and how we live our lives in that reverence. It is about the wisdom that comes from understanding God, the awe of God.
Sources:
1. Rev. David Shearman, Owen Sound, ON.
2. Rev. James Hopkins, Lakeshore Avenue Baptist Church, Oakland CA.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Who Is Jesus for You? Mark 8:31-38 September 13, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church
So here’s a little band of twelve marching along the dusty, hot and dry road to Jerusalem. Jesus is well out in front - as followers always walked behind their rabbis as a sign of respect. Suddenly Jesus turns around, and, walking backward says, "So who do you think I really am?”
Huh???
They look at each other, and give a kind of French shoulder shrug, as if to say “Beats me, who are you really?” We do know that some people had their suspicions about who Jesus was, including a few of the disciples - but Mark always wrote as if the disciples were not terribly with it...
"Well," says one, "there’s a theory going around that you must be John the Baptist! Can you believe it! They saw his head on a platter, a little over two months ago, but miraculously you’re somehow him.”
"I’ve been hearing rumours that you’re really Elijah”, says another, "zoomed in from heaven, to preach the way you do and perform the miracles you have." And pretty soon every one of the twelve jumps in with some kind of rumour about who Jesus might be.
Still walking backwards, and with a rather wicked smile tucked in one side of his mouth, Jesus asks “and who do *you* say I am?"
Large silence.
Very large and long silence.
Jesus walking backwards, looking at them, and the twelve walking along looking totally dumbfounded. Peter finally blurts it out. "You’re the Messiah."
Good old Peter. No hemming and hawing, no shuffling of feet or oblique references. Peter gets right to it; and seriously, that’s the answer everyone wants, isn’t it? That was really the answer all the disciples wanted. Today, that answer could land him a place on our national committees, get us to encourage him to go into ordained ministry. Jesus has asked, "Who do you say that I am?", and Peter, speaking as Everyone, says, "You are the Messiah." You’d expect Jesus to be pleased as punch.
But no - Jesus pitches a fit. From being a little mischievous with the guys, he is now downright angry and harsh. In this passage we get to eavesdrop on a knockdown, drag-out argument - the worst argument in Jesus’ ministry. His response is neither gentle, nor affirming, nor comforting. He rips Peter, and to the twelve says “Don’t you dare say that to anyone, hear me????? Don’t anyone call me that!!!!" Jesus uses the Greek word, *epitimao* - a command he used to silence demons and drive them away.
Wait a minute! Isn’t that the answer we would have given????
It’s interesting that in Matthew’s Gospel, Peter is commended by Jesus. But that’s Matthew - we’ve heard before that some of the people in Matthew’s local group thought John the Baptist was the Messiah, and Matthew wanted to prove that Jesus was; but this is Mark, and it’s important to reiterate that each Gospel was shaped to try to prove the author’s version of who Jesus was.
Well, on with the story. Jesus, now walking together with the twelve, starts to explain what is coming next. When they get to Jerusalem, he says, he will be hauled in, beaten, profiled, knocked around and eventually killed - but that he will be resurrected on the third day.
This time Peter pitches a fit. Swelled up, red faced and indignant, Peter lets fly with “Stop yapping New Age nonsense, and think about the rest of us.” Jesus, now even more riled up, comes nose to nose, toe to toe, and eyeball to eyeball with Peter, and yells “Get outta here, you Satan!!!!” - and then he whirls around again, and yells at the rest of the group “Anyone who comes with me has to carry your own cross just like me, and go wherever I go. Whoever just wants to save their own skin will lose it, but whoever gives their life for me and for the teaching will *have* life.”
Thomas Hall notes that Mark places this story right at the middle of the book; “the equivalent of placing ambulance and police sirens around it. Or grenades and mines. For the earliest Christians, this story was not just another episode in an otherwise routine day of travel.” There’s wisdom here to be heard. Perhaps Peter really did have the wrong answer, because perhaps he meant "the one who has come to meet our needs and to fix whatever needs fixing,"
So who do people say Jesus is? And who do YOU say Jesus is. Who is Jesus for YOU, today, right now - here in this congregation, in this church, in this world.
Is he only a kind of guru, a fully realized spiritual human being with lots of good teachings, but no interest in sickness, injustice, war, poverty, the environment, education or children; sitting way out of reach, offering wisdom to those who are enlightened enough to hear. Would we be able to understand, if we could get close enough, or would we still need everything explained to us?
Is Jesus your friend, a divine big brother, up in the sky somewhere? Is he your judge, counting out your sins and keeping a record? Is he sitting on the bench until things get tough and you call him to take over for you - a semi-divine coach in a game? Is he your vending machine – Zoltar the Fortune Teller out of the Tom Hanks movie “Big”, where the little boy puts his quarter in the fortune-teller machine, makes a wish to be big, and it comes true. Pay for a prayer from Jesus????
Who do you say Jesus is? For those who claim discipleship, it is the one question we are called to keep on answering throughout our lives. Non-Christians, watching us, cannot even tell that we are Christians. We don’t look like the people on TV, we’re unable to articulate our faith. We don’t shout and condemn and we don’t have powerful lobby groups. So non-Christians conclude that "all Christians" claim to believe one way, but don't even follow their own teaching.
I suspect that Jesus lost it with Peter, because there was a major miscommunication all along the way. We know that the Israelites were oppressed by the Romans, we know that the people were subject to unfair practices and discrimination by their own religious leaders. Peter, in saying “You are the Messiah” is really saying you’re the one who is going to make everything right for us, unite the Israelites to drive out the Romans, fix the church, get rid of the oppressive religious leaders.
Right answer, but dead wrong. Who do we say Jesus is? How do we say it? Who is Jesus for us? The one who makes everything right? What we say matters. What we don’t say also matters.
“Who do you SAY I am?” Jesus asks. Jesus is clear about who he is. He calls us to take up a cross, to risk our very life for those who need, right here in this neighbourhood. He is the bread of life, the living water, the one who will talk with those we like to ignore, who cares for those we consider the dregs of society. He is the one who asks everything from us, at the same time asking us to look deep into ourselves to see who we are, and make changes within as well as without. Who is Jesus, for you, today, now - and how do you make that known in the world?
Sources:
1. Rev. Christina Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, Illinois, from the sermon “What I Say”.
2. Rev. Thomas Hall, from the sermon “On the Way”.
Huh???
They look at each other, and give a kind of French shoulder shrug, as if to say “Beats me, who are you really?” We do know that some people had their suspicions about who Jesus was, including a few of the disciples - but Mark always wrote as if the disciples were not terribly with it...
"Well," says one, "there’s a theory going around that you must be John the Baptist! Can you believe it! They saw his head on a platter, a little over two months ago, but miraculously you’re somehow him.”
"I’ve been hearing rumours that you’re really Elijah”, says another, "zoomed in from heaven, to preach the way you do and perform the miracles you have." And pretty soon every one of the twelve jumps in with some kind of rumour about who Jesus might be.
Still walking backwards, and with a rather wicked smile tucked in one side of his mouth, Jesus asks “and who do *you* say I am?"
Large silence.
Very large and long silence.
Jesus walking backwards, looking at them, and the twelve walking along looking totally dumbfounded. Peter finally blurts it out. "You’re the Messiah."
Good old Peter. No hemming and hawing, no shuffling of feet or oblique references. Peter gets right to it; and seriously, that’s the answer everyone wants, isn’t it? That was really the answer all the disciples wanted. Today, that answer could land him a place on our national committees, get us to encourage him to go into ordained ministry. Jesus has asked, "Who do you say that I am?", and Peter, speaking as Everyone, says, "You are the Messiah." You’d expect Jesus to be pleased as punch.
But no - Jesus pitches a fit. From being a little mischievous with the guys, he is now downright angry and harsh. In this passage we get to eavesdrop on a knockdown, drag-out argument - the worst argument in Jesus’ ministry. His response is neither gentle, nor affirming, nor comforting. He rips Peter, and to the twelve says “Don’t you dare say that to anyone, hear me????? Don’t anyone call me that!!!!" Jesus uses the Greek word, *epitimao* - a command he used to silence demons and drive them away.
Wait a minute! Isn’t that the answer we would have given????
It’s interesting that in Matthew’s Gospel, Peter is commended by Jesus. But that’s Matthew - we’ve heard before that some of the people in Matthew’s local group thought John the Baptist was the Messiah, and Matthew wanted to prove that Jesus was; but this is Mark, and it’s important to reiterate that each Gospel was shaped to try to prove the author’s version of who Jesus was.
Well, on with the story. Jesus, now walking together with the twelve, starts to explain what is coming next. When they get to Jerusalem, he says, he will be hauled in, beaten, profiled, knocked around and eventually killed - but that he will be resurrected on the third day.
This time Peter pitches a fit. Swelled up, red faced and indignant, Peter lets fly with “Stop yapping New Age nonsense, and think about the rest of us.” Jesus, now even more riled up, comes nose to nose, toe to toe, and eyeball to eyeball with Peter, and yells “Get outta here, you Satan!!!!” - and then he whirls around again, and yells at the rest of the group “Anyone who comes with me has to carry your own cross just like me, and go wherever I go. Whoever just wants to save their own skin will lose it, but whoever gives their life for me and for the teaching will *have* life.”
Thomas Hall notes that Mark places this story right at the middle of the book; “the equivalent of placing ambulance and police sirens around it. Or grenades and mines. For the earliest Christians, this story was not just another episode in an otherwise routine day of travel.” There’s wisdom here to be heard. Perhaps Peter really did have the wrong answer, because perhaps he meant "the one who has come to meet our needs and to fix whatever needs fixing,"
So who do people say Jesus is? And who do YOU say Jesus is. Who is Jesus for YOU, today, right now - here in this congregation, in this church, in this world.
Is he only a kind of guru, a fully realized spiritual human being with lots of good teachings, but no interest in sickness, injustice, war, poverty, the environment, education or children; sitting way out of reach, offering wisdom to those who are enlightened enough to hear. Would we be able to understand, if we could get close enough, or would we still need everything explained to us?
Is Jesus your friend, a divine big brother, up in the sky somewhere? Is he your judge, counting out your sins and keeping a record? Is he sitting on the bench until things get tough and you call him to take over for you - a semi-divine coach in a game? Is he your vending machine – Zoltar the Fortune Teller out of the Tom Hanks movie “Big”, where the little boy puts his quarter in the fortune-teller machine, makes a wish to be big, and it comes true. Pay for a prayer from Jesus????
Who do you say Jesus is? For those who claim discipleship, it is the one question we are called to keep on answering throughout our lives. Non-Christians, watching us, cannot even tell that we are Christians. We don’t look like the people on TV, we’re unable to articulate our faith. We don’t shout and condemn and we don’t have powerful lobby groups. So non-Christians conclude that "all Christians" claim to believe one way, but don't even follow their own teaching.
I suspect that Jesus lost it with Peter, because there was a major miscommunication all along the way. We know that the Israelites were oppressed by the Romans, we know that the people were subject to unfair practices and discrimination by their own religious leaders. Peter, in saying “You are the Messiah” is really saying you’re the one who is going to make everything right for us, unite the Israelites to drive out the Romans, fix the church, get rid of the oppressive religious leaders.
Right answer, but dead wrong. Who do we say Jesus is? How do we say it? Who is Jesus for us? The one who makes everything right? What we say matters. What we don’t say also matters.
“Who do you SAY I am?” Jesus asks. Jesus is clear about who he is. He calls us to take up a cross, to risk our very life for those who need, right here in this neighbourhood. He is the bread of life, the living water, the one who will talk with those we like to ignore, who cares for those we consider the dregs of society. He is the one who asks everything from us, at the same time asking us to look deep into ourselves to see who we are, and make changes within as well as without. Who is Jesus, for you, today, now - and how do you make that known in the world?
Sources:
1. Rev. Christina Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, Illinois, from the sermon “What I Say”.
2. Rev. Thomas Hall, from the sermon “On the Way”.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Crossing Boundaries Mark 7:24-37 September 6, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church
In the reading of this story, it is critical to remember that Jesus was born into a society heavily governed by religious rules, and we know he values its tradition and practices. We also know that he sees the leadership as corrupt, and ingrown. So he sets out initiate reform, in the tradition of the prophets like Jeremiah and Isaiah. He tries to help people remember what their faith and practices are to be. Against the misdirection and mismanagement of the community by the traditional leaders, he begins to gather and empower new ministers and leaders from among the overlooked lay folk. But it isn’t going quite the way he would like it to, and there is a lot of resistance.
So he takes a break. He is tired and probably rather discouraged, and goes to the region of Tyre, a bit of a retreat by the seashore, trying to escape notice and find some time for himself. He doesn’t want to be dealing with people. Yet even in a private home, he is found - by a Gentile woman who would be considered “unclean” by the Jewish community. She is a mother, with a sick child. She manages to get past all the disciples, and directly inside to Jesus. It is curious that apparently no one stops her. But all she does is ask Jesus for help.
In reading this text, we tend to miss, or overlook, or not even understand, the enormity both of what the woman does, and what Jesus does and says. She is a Syrophoenician, considered “unclean” by the Jews, who have strict laws about ritual purity. She is a foreigner, not of the same religious society or community. Above all, the sheer nerve of a woman, approaching him and asking for help. This may seem like nothing to us today - but in Jesus’ time this was jaw-dropping behaviour.
You can almost feel the indrawn breath of the people around, and see Jesus just sitting there with his mouth hanging open, trying to think of some response to get rid of her. When he finally does respond, it is a rude, and frankly racist remark. He says that it is not fair to feed the dogs before the children. On the surface, for us, it would seem like a pretty straightforward statement. That’s because we can’t read the original language. What Jesus really says is “My work and words are strictly for the children of Israel - of the one true God - not for Gentile dogs.” He tells her she is not worthy of the teachings he offers.
A Gentile woman, unclean according to Jewish law, unclean by her circumstance of birth, dares to approach Jesus. Surely she had to make her way through the disciples to do this. She knows that she is considered unclean. She is painfully aware of the meaning of the word ‘dogs’. Dirty mutts would be more like it. But she has a sick child, and still she cries out “Lord, help me, help my child. Have mercy!” She would go anywhere, cross any boundary, for the well being of her child - even into a place where she expects to be unwelcome.
It is almost possible to hear Jesus’ voice, see him turn to her and say those words. And from the woman,"But sir, even the meanest mutts under the table get to eat the children's crumbs." In other words, "I know I`m not much and am certainly not special nor deserving, but surely there must be a little bit - which is more than enough, for people even like me and my daughter." You can almost hear the penny drop, see Jesus’ eyes widen, his posture change as he realises that this outsider in so many ways has grasped something important, and has brought his attention to something important. There is a long moment of silence all around the room.
Feminist theologian Mary Ann Tolbert suggests that it is the shameful request of the woman (it should be coming from a male, not her), and the totally unconventional behaviour, which makes Jesus attempt to dismiss her with such disdain. Then Jesus is faced with the fact that a Gentile woman has just hammered home to him, albeit gently and with grace, the very point he had been trying to teach his own disciples - social conventions are meaningless when there are people in need.
One of the questions I want to ask all of you, each week in this year, is where do we locate ourselves in this story? Are we the leaders, Jesus, the disciples, the woman?
In a sense it’s hard for us to do this - after all, we were born here, are and have been members of the community. We are the church, we know the tradition and its practices. But no matter how good a community is, the original vision and sense of mission can be lost. It's possible for what used to be a joy and a source of grace to become a burden and a chore.
And that happens when we let entitlement rather than grace become our reason for being here. It happens when we speak of this place as "our church" more than we speak of it as "God's church." It happens when we forget that *we* are the mutts who receive crumbs dropped from the table.
We set our table in a place that makes it accessible to all. We tend to think of it as ours, not God’s. We put the pulpit above it, as though the minister is somehow that far above error and no longer needing to be submissive to a will and a word from beyond.
Let’s be blunt - we are as Gentile as that woman, part of that large foreign community that has no natural connection to the children of Abraham, and but is adopted by grace into God's family.
Parentage, history, longevity in the community, personality, personal charisma all mean very little in this regard. Far from being entitled, we are all here all the time only by the gracious invitation of God, through Jesus and the stirring of the Spirit within us.
Anna Murdock, a lay leader of Broad Street United Methodist Church in Statesville, North Carolina, tells this story of an experience she had:
‘It was almost a year ago; our Senior Pastor was on vacation. We would be having Communion on that particular Sunday, and the Associate Pastor had invited a seminary buddy to assist him with Communion. I noticed, after all had received Communion, that the visiting minister bent down on his way back to the pulpit and picked up a large crumb on the floor.
I didn't think anything about it. I just thought he might be a neat freak like the Associate Pastor! After the worship service, I witnessed the most beautiful moment. I saw our Associate Pastor's friend on his hands and knees near the altar rail, picking up crumbs that had dropped to the floor.
I told him that we would clean that up... he didn't have to do it. He smiled and said, "Even I have been made worthy to pick up the crumbs from under the table. This is part of my worship."
My response was, "and so have I been." And with a whispered "Thanks be to God", he invited me to pick up crumbs as well ... and to worship with him.’
Not through attendance, or long membership, or size of contribution, or history in the community - not by any of these things are we made worthy. It is in those words “Help me....” Everyone who comes through the door of the church, searching, is made welcome and worthy by the Spirit of God. Will they find here what they need?
Sources:
1. “Crumbs from the Table” by Rev. Brian Donst, Fifty United Church, Winona, Ontario
2. “Lord, Help Me. Crumbs Under the Table” by Anna Murdock, Broad Street UMC, Statesville, N Carolina
3. Feasting on the Word, Year B Volume 4.
So he takes a break. He is tired and probably rather discouraged, and goes to the region of Tyre, a bit of a retreat by the seashore, trying to escape notice and find some time for himself. He doesn’t want to be dealing with people. Yet even in a private home, he is found - by a Gentile woman who would be considered “unclean” by the Jewish community. She is a mother, with a sick child. She manages to get past all the disciples, and directly inside to Jesus. It is curious that apparently no one stops her. But all she does is ask Jesus for help.
In reading this text, we tend to miss, or overlook, or not even understand, the enormity both of what the woman does, and what Jesus does and says. She is a Syrophoenician, considered “unclean” by the Jews, who have strict laws about ritual purity. She is a foreigner, not of the same religious society or community. Above all, the sheer nerve of a woman, approaching him and asking for help. This may seem like nothing to us today - but in Jesus’ time this was jaw-dropping behaviour.
You can almost feel the indrawn breath of the people around, and see Jesus just sitting there with his mouth hanging open, trying to think of some response to get rid of her. When he finally does respond, it is a rude, and frankly racist remark. He says that it is not fair to feed the dogs before the children. On the surface, for us, it would seem like a pretty straightforward statement. That’s because we can’t read the original language. What Jesus really says is “My work and words are strictly for the children of Israel - of the one true God - not for Gentile dogs.” He tells her she is not worthy of the teachings he offers.
A Gentile woman, unclean according to Jewish law, unclean by her circumstance of birth, dares to approach Jesus. Surely she had to make her way through the disciples to do this. She knows that she is considered unclean. She is painfully aware of the meaning of the word ‘dogs’. Dirty mutts would be more like it. But she has a sick child, and still she cries out “Lord, help me, help my child. Have mercy!” She would go anywhere, cross any boundary, for the well being of her child - even into a place where she expects to be unwelcome.
It is almost possible to hear Jesus’ voice, see him turn to her and say those words. And from the woman,"But sir, even the meanest mutts under the table get to eat the children's crumbs." In other words, "I know I`m not much and am certainly not special nor deserving, but surely there must be a little bit - which is more than enough, for people even like me and my daughter." You can almost hear the penny drop, see Jesus’ eyes widen, his posture change as he realises that this outsider in so many ways has grasped something important, and has brought his attention to something important. There is a long moment of silence all around the room.
Feminist theologian Mary Ann Tolbert suggests that it is the shameful request of the woman (it should be coming from a male, not her), and the totally unconventional behaviour, which makes Jesus attempt to dismiss her with such disdain. Then Jesus is faced with the fact that a Gentile woman has just hammered home to him, albeit gently and with grace, the very point he had been trying to teach his own disciples - social conventions are meaningless when there are people in need.
One of the questions I want to ask all of you, each week in this year, is where do we locate ourselves in this story? Are we the leaders, Jesus, the disciples, the woman?
In a sense it’s hard for us to do this - after all, we were born here, are and have been members of the community. We are the church, we know the tradition and its practices. But no matter how good a community is, the original vision and sense of mission can be lost. It's possible for what used to be a joy and a source of grace to become a burden and a chore.
And that happens when we let entitlement rather than grace become our reason for being here. It happens when we speak of this place as "our church" more than we speak of it as "God's church." It happens when we forget that *we* are the mutts who receive crumbs dropped from the table.
We set our table in a place that makes it accessible to all. We tend to think of it as ours, not God’s. We put the pulpit above it, as though the minister is somehow that far above error and no longer needing to be submissive to a will and a word from beyond.
Let’s be blunt - we are as Gentile as that woman, part of that large foreign community that has no natural connection to the children of Abraham, and but is adopted by grace into God's family.
Parentage, history, longevity in the community, personality, personal charisma all mean very little in this regard. Far from being entitled, we are all here all the time only by the gracious invitation of God, through Jesus and the stirring of the Spirit within us.
Anna Murdock, a lay leader of Broad Street United Methodist Church in Statesville, North Carolina, tells this story of an experience she had:
‘It was almost a year ago; our Senior Pastor was on vacation. We would be having Communion on that particular Sunday, and the Associate Pastor had invited a seminary buddy to assist him with Communion. I noticed, after all had received Communion, that the visiting minister bent down on his way back to the pulpit and picked up a large crumb on the floor.
I didn't think anything about it. I just thought he might be a neat freak like the Associate Pastor! After the worship service, I witnessed the most beautiful moment. I saw our Associate Pastor's friend on his hands and knees near the altar rail, picking up crumbs that had dropped to the floor.
I told him that we would clean that up... he didn't have to do it. He smiled and said, "Even I have been made worthy to pick up the crumbs from under the table. This is part of my worship."
My response was, "and so have I been." And with a whispered "Thanks be to God", he invited me to pick up crumbs as well ... and to worship with him.’
Not through attendance, or long membership, or size of contribution, or history in the community - not by any of these things are we made worthy. It is in those words “Help me....” Everyone who comes through the door of the church, searching, is made welcome and worthy by the Spirit of God. Will they find here what they need?
Sources:
1. “Crumbs from the Table” by Rev. Brian Donst, Fifty United Church, Winona, Ontario
2. “Lord, Help Me. Crumbs Under the Table” by Anna Murdock, Broad Street UMC, Statesville, N Carolina
3. Feasting on the Word, Year B Volume 4.
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