"Hunger for Heaven." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church

"Hunger for Heaven"

John 6:24-35; Ephesians 4:1-16

Throughout this sixth chapter of John, we hear a theme of hunger-- the hunger behind and beneath all other hungers...  the hunger for a knowledge of God...  the hunger for a word from the Lord. 

            The day after the miraculous feeding of the 5,000, people come looking for Jesus, and he says, “Truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.”  Jesus sees that the crowd is seeking him out because they got something they wanted—not because of the sign that was revealed to them of a deeper truth.  Their stomachs have been filled, but they don’t understand the real significance of the miraculous feeding.  

            Jesus wants to give them much more than they want.  He points them toward a bread that lasts—that endures for eternal life…bread that is a gift from God.   

            The crowd’s follow-up question shows that they’ve missed the theme of gift.  “What kinds of works should we be doing to earn our salvation?”

            Jesus responds: “This is God’s work.  What you need to do is to believe in the One God has sent.”

            The crowd doesn’t get it, so they ask for a proof—something that would remove the risks of faith.  If Jesus would continue to provide food, then maybe that would be proof enough.       

            The crowd’s misunderstanding is understandable enough if they thought of Jesus as the prophet like Moses.  There was a popular belief that God would provide manna again in the final days.  This was connected with the hopes of a second Exodus.  Many people thought that the messiah would come on Passover, and that manna would begin to fall again.

            The people in the crowd are stuck in their faith development.  They have hopes, based on their traditions, and they want Jesus to give them what they want:  manna from heaven, and a political leader to overthrow the Roman oppressors in a new Exodus.

            Jesus corrects their theology, and tells them that God is teaching something new.  “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven…the heavenly bread which gives life to the world.”

            The people still don’t realize that Jesus is trying to tell them that he is the bread of heaven.  So, they ask: “Sir, give us this bread always.”

            That’s why Jesus says, in verse 35, “I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

            Jesus was trying to tell the crowd that what they wanted…what they expected and hoped for—wasn’t as good as what God wanted to give them.

            The people in the crowd longed for something.  They knew they needed something, so they asked for what they thought they needed.  They wanted something to make their life better—but they weren’t looking for anything that would challenge the way they understood the world.  What God was offering was a new word, embodied in Jesus—a new Word which would transform their lives.

            In this chapter of John, and throughout the Gospel of John, if we listen closely we realize that Jesus and the crowd often use the same words—but with very different meanings.  The crowd keeps misunderstanding what Jesus says, because they’re thinking in earthly terms, while Jesus is speaking in heavenly terms. 

            “What sign are you going to give us, that we may see it and believe you?  What work are you performing?”  they ask.  “What must we do to perform the works of God?” 

            Did you wonder when you heard this?   How can they ask for a sign?  Hadn’t they just shared in a miraculous feeding?  Apparently, they don’t recognize the sign that has already been enacted before their eyes.

            How can they not get it? 

            Because God’s thoughts are not our thoughts.  God’s ways are not our ways.  The logic of the world and the logic of the gospel are very different.  The call to believe is nothing short of a call to conversion—conversion from the logic of the world--to the logic of God. The call to faith is a conversion from the logic of getting what you want to the logic of receiving what you need.    As we grow in the Christian life, the logic of the gospel doesn’t overcome the logic of the world—but it puts it in its place, in its own proper sphere.

            That’s why the people had such a hard time understanding what Jesus was saying.  Because God’s thoughts are not our thoughts.  God’s ways are not our ways.  The people in the crowd were trying to understand Jesus in terms of the culture of their day, in terms of the world’s logic… in terms of what was familiar and comfortable to them.

            It’s a very human way to respond.  All too often we assume that the gospel is a little something we can add on to our present beliefs.  The story of the encounter between Jesus and the crowd illustrates the tension between the familiar and the gospel.  The text we read today is filled with that tension. 

            Christ’s invitation to believe in him is nothing short of a call to conversion.  It calls us to be open to hear God teaching us new things.  In the words of the apostle Paul, we are to be “transformed by the renewal of our minds.”

            I believe that behind and beneath all the other hungers, all the longings, all the futile ways we try to satisfy our hunger and restlessness—our most basic hunger is for a word from God.    Earlier in his gospel, John quotes the prophet Isaiah in writing that the people “will be taught by God.”  Friends, God has not stopped teaching. 

            One of the essential beliefs of our Reformed tradition is the recognition of the human tendency to idolatry.  As human beings, we tend to get comfortable with the values of the society, or the beliefs we have held in the past.  When we hear a word from God that doesn’t fit in with the logic of the world, we have a hard time understanding the heavenly logic. 

            The call to conversion in today’s scripture lesson challenges us to be open to God’s redeeming activity in the world through the presence and power of the Holy Spirit-- even when it doesn’t fit in with our earthly logic. 

            The Spirit calls us to the new life revealed in Jesus Christ.  That’s why we can’t settle in with the comfortable old ways of worshiping and living out our faith.  As Presbyterians, we affirm that we are Reformed, and continually being reformed, according to the word of God and the call of the Spirit.  Ours is a living, growing faith, which challenges us to a gradual, continuing conversion. 

            The logic of the world teaches us that we will feel happy and satisfied if only we have enough money and material possessions…  bigger, more comfortable homes…or more land.   The logic of the world teaches us that we can make ourselves safe and secure by building walls…or through power or military might.  

            Jesus calls us into a new life and starts messing with that worldly logic, saying we will be happy and blessed if we are meek and merciful…if we make peace…  that we should love our enemies…  and that we shouldn’t store up earthly treasures. 

           

            We are called, as followers of Christ, to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.  As the body of Christ, we are called to live in humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 

            As disciples of Jesus, we are called to be on a journey of learning to see things differently, “to put away your former way of life, your old self…and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.”[1]

            In Jesus Christ, God offers us an alternative story to shape our lives:  the gospel story of how God loves the world…the gospel story of how Jesus came to embody God’s love by living among us, full of grace and truth, proclaiming the reign of God, preaching good news to the poor and release to the captives, teaching by word and deed and blessing the children, healing the sick and binding up the brokenhearted, eating with outcasts, forgiving sinners, and calling all to repent and believe the gospel.   In a gift of amazing grace, Jesus gave his very life for us on the cross.  God raised Jesus from the dead, overcoming the power of sin and evil, delivering us from death to eternal life.

            I believe that this gospel story is much more compelling and transforming than any stories the world gives us.   I believe in the power of the gospel story to transform us and to work through us to transform the world. 

            The gospel story teaches us that the Holy Spirit feeds us with the bread of life and the cup of salvation

            This is a story on which we can stake our lives. 

            Together, we can rejoice in God’s amazing grace and power…which we celebrate in the joyful feast each time we come to the Lord’s Table.

           

            So, let us taste the bread of life.  Let us taste and see that it is good! Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

August 5, 2018

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[1] Eph. 4:22-24

"Love and Life for the World." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church.

"Love and Life for the World"

2 Kings 4:42-44; Ephesians 3:14-21; John 6:1-21

            Do you ever find yourself wondering what actually happened in these stories we just heard?  A man comes to Elisha bringing food from the first fruits: twenty barley loaves and some fresh ears of grain. Elisha says, “Give it to the people and let them eat.” But his servant can’t see how that will be enough.  Elisha had heard God’s promise: “Thus says the LORD, ‘They shall eat and have some left.’

            Would you have believed Elisha?

            The Bible tells us that Elisha served the twenty barley loaves and the grain, and the hundred people ate, and there was more than enough.

            There are similar themes in the gospel lesson we just heard. 

            The gospel lesson we just heard is one of the few stories that John and the other gospel writers tell in common.  It’s the only miracle story that appears in all four gospels. So, it must have been important to the early church.

           

            After this, Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee.  The verses leading up to today’s gospel lesson set the context. The crowds are following because they saw Jesus perform SIGNS. Jesus has healed the official’s son and a man by the pool. The amazing things Jesus has been doing create a sense of anticipation for what is to come.

            A large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain and sat down with his disciples.

            Jesus looked around at the large crowd and asked Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people can eat?

            John tells us that Jesus said this to test Philip, as he already knew what he would do.

            Philip answered Jesus, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread wouldn’t be enough for each of them to get a little.”

            Then Andrew said, “There’s a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish--but what are they for so many?”  Andrew sees the possibilities, but he’s still concerned that they don’t have enough.

            Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.”  John mentions that there was a lot of grass in the area, which made it a comfortable place to sit down and have a picnic.

            There are four gospel stories that tell about Jesus feeding 5,000, and Matthew’s and Mark each add a similar story about Jesus feeding 4,000. In all six stories, there are lots of left-overs!

            At the center of the story is a miracle.

            Now, if I were to tell you that it happened exactly the way the story says it did, some of you might get a little cranky.   Some folk have a hard time believing that sort of thing… or would tell us that nothing like that has ever happened to you.

            The way some people get more comfortable with this story is to explain that of course many of the five thousand people had a little food tucked away in their tunics—something they planned to sneak off and eat by themselves—but that Jesus got them to share what they had, so that there was plenty for everyone, with twelve baskets left over.  According to that kind of thinking, the MIRACLE is that Jesus got them to share.

            I think that interpretation has some merit, and it’s helpful to some folk who struggle with how to interpret the miracle stories in the Bible.

            But that’s not what the Bible says.  and that when the people saw it, they knew who he was.  They understood the feeding of the five thousand as God’s divine hand in human affairs—God’s supernatural interruption of the natural order.  There was bread where there hadn’t been any bread…fish where there hadn’t been any fish.  That proved who Jesus was to them…and established their faith in him.  The miracle made people believe.  It gave them faith where there had been no faith—the same as it gave them food where there had been no food.

            I’m not going to try to tell you how it happened that Jesus was able to feed thousands of people that day in the Galilee, because I can’t explain it in a pat, rational way that would satisfy everyone.  But I believe the gospel writers when they say that something amazing and extraordinary happened, and that many hungry people got fed-- when it looked like there wouldn’t be enough.   In the midst of what looked like scarcity, there was abundance!   

                         

            I think it was C.S. Lewis who said that a miracle is something that takes your freedom away along with your doubts… something that leaves you no choice but to believe.  You witness a miracle—or, as John the Evangelist would say, a "sign"-- and it makes you have faith.

            But I’m not so sure about that.  Without faith, there are always other explanations for even the best of miracles.  You say you heard the voice of God?  It sounded like ordinary thunder to me.  She was healed of her illness?  It was probably psychosomatic in the first place.

           

            Come to think of it, though, is there proof for anything that really matters in the world?   Are there homegrown, ordinary miracles you can think of—that there’s no evidence for… nothing that could prove them to anyone else…or to you—if you didn’t believe in them first.

            Could it be that we’ve gotten it all backwards somehow?  Maybe faith doesn’t come after miracles—but before them?   Perhaps what makes something holy--what makes it a glowing and life-giving wonder—isn’t something about it…but about us. 

            In today’s gospel lesson we hear echoes of the Passover-Exodus story. Chapter five ended with complaints about a shallow, superficial understanding of Moses. But chapter six intends to show a deeper, fuller understanding of Moses and the Passover, which is now revealed in Jesus.

            When Jesus miraculously feeds the multitude in the wilderness, the people remember the promise that God will raise up a prophet like Moses, and they confess that Jesus is that prophet. What they fail to realize what this sign actually reveals. Instead of seeing in Jesus the embodiment of God’s glory, love, and Word, they see a king…a political or military figure they hope will serve their desires. The crowds are missing the point of what’s happening. They see Jesus’ gracious gift--but they want him to manifest a glory that fits into their assumption and serves their goals.

            How often do we fail to see the depths of what God is doing, because we’re focused on what serves our desires? How often do we fail to realize how graciously God is acting among us, for our sake and for the sake of the whole world?  

            We only see partially and in distorted ways. We need the continuing word of Jesus and the gift of his presence, if we are to move more deeply into God’s glory.

            When the story moves to the next scene, we hear more echoes of Passover.

            Jesus, knowing that the people in the crowd wanted to make him king by force, had withdrawn again to a mountain by himself. Then, when evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, where they got into a boat and set off across the lake. A strong wind was blowing, and the waters grew rough. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water…and they were frightened.

            But Jesus said to them, “It is I. Don’t be afraid.”  Or, more accurately, we could read Jesus’ response as “I am.” “I am” and “Don’t be afraid” are the language of theophany.[1]   I think Brian Peterson is right when he suggests that, in John’s language, it’s a “sign,” a window into the glory of God present in this world through Jesus.[2]

           

            Like the crowds in John 6, we have been fed by God’s grace and mercy and care and steadfast love. Like them, we often fail to see what God is doing among us. We look for a Messiah or king who will serve our desires or our agendas.

            But God is up to something far greater than anything we could imagine. Jesus comes to dwell among us, full of grace and truth, to reveal to us God’s love. Jesus comes across the fearful, lonely, empty, dangerous times and places and says, “Don’t be afraid.  I am.”

            He calls us to feed the hungry--to provide food and clean water to those who lack the basic things of life. But we look around and we’re afraid that our resources aren’t sufficient to meet all the needs.  We’re afraid there won’t be enough.

            Perhaps part of the miracle of our life of faith is that we creatures are able to make use of our freedom:  to believe in spite of our doubts…to have faith without proof…and that because of those capacities in us, miraculous things do happen from time to time.  Some of them are extraordinary.   But most of them as ordinary as the voices of our fellow human beings telling us that we are loved…that we are precious in their sight and God’s…that they want to link their lives with ours…that together we can, with God’s help, change the world.

            Together, we can practice trusting in God’s abundance and grace. Together, we can receive from Jesus’ hand what he gives and go out into the world with the gifts.

            All life and all good gifts come from God. Jesus keeps coming to us to open our hearts and our hands to those around us…to open our eyes to his presence. He keeps encouraging us: “I am. Don’t be afraid.”

            In the epistle lesson we heard, we hear Paul praying that the church, according to the riches of God’s glory,  “may be strengthened in your inner being with power through God’s Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love… that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”

            As Gentile readers of the twenty-first century, do we get it?  This message is for us, no less than to the ancient church in Ephesus.  God has a plan for us, for us to be strengthened in our inner being with power through God’s Spirit…for Christ to dwell in our hearts through faith…for us to be rooted and grounded in love…for us to be filled with the fullness of God.  We come together to be fed…filled…to open our lives to God in prayer…and to be transformed by God’s power. 

            Do we believe in that kind of miracle-- the kind of miracle in which we believe enough in God’s grace and power to risk giving our lives in prayer?   

            The GOOD NEWS is that—if we give our lives in prayer—we can begin to comprehend that God is within and around us.  We’ll begin to see ourselves and everyone else differently.  When we give ourselves in prayer, we begin to see the world in terms of God’s economy of abundance.  When we give ourselves in prayer, I believe the things that break God’s heart break our hearts too…and we begin to comprehend what Jesus meant when he said, “How blessed are those who mourn!  How blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness!  How blessed are the peacemakers!”

            When we’re weary from responsibilities with family, work, and church, the vision of God leads us back to the way of love and LIFE. 

            When we pray, God gives us the courage to risk.  We learn to trust not in ourselves, but in something far bigger than we are.  We live with what Brett Younger calls “a muffled but persistent sense of the holy.”  [3]

            What kind of a miracle might we experience if we pray for a bigger vision of God?  What kind of a miracle might we be a part of-- if we pray that we will see our life in the center of God’s goodness…that Christ might dwell in our hearts?    What kind of a miracle might it be if God overwhelms us with grace and it overflows in our lives and makes a difference in the world?      

            So… let us pray for faith in God’s power working in our world and in our leaders.  Let us pray for God’s power in us to do everything that we can do to stop terrible hatred and violence in our world.  Let there truly be peace on earth, and let it begin with you and me.

           

            Now, to the One who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to God be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever.

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

July 29, 2018 

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[1] Exodus 3:14; Isaiah 43:10, 25; 4`:12; Genesis 15:1; Exodus 14a;13.

[2] Brian Peterson, Commentary on John 6:1-21 at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3749

[3] Lectionary Homiletics, July 30, 2006, p. 80.

 

 

"The Real Miracle". A sermon on Luke 7:11-17 preached at Littlefield Presbyterian Church on June 5, 2016

"The Real Miracle"

Luke 7:11-17

The gospel story we just heard starts out sounding like a story about bad news.  Jesus and his disciples and the crowd that was following him come to Nain, a Galilean town not far from Nazareth. As they start to enter the town, they encounter a funeral procession that’s making its way to a burial place outside the town.  A young man who had died was being carried out.  He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow. 

            The bad news begins with the announcement of a death and continues when Luke tells us that the man was young.  If this news isn’t bad enough, Luke tells us that he was his mother’s only son.   For you and me, this would the terrible tragedy of a parent losing an only child.  But in Jesus’ day, the death of an only son would make the tragedy even greater, as this son would have taken care of his mother in her old age.  She had no retirement fund, no social security.  She had only one son, and now he was dead, along with her hope for a secure future.

            As a widow, this woman has known tragedy before.  She had buried her husband, and now she was making the same mournful walk to the cemetery to bury her only son.

            There is a reason why the Law of Moses commanded people to care for the widows and orphans, because they were among the poorest of the poor and very vulnerable.  For this woman, the death of her husband plus the death of her only son would have added up to a life of poverty, hunger, disease, and possibly an early death.

            The way Luke tells it, when Jesus sees the widow’s situation, “his heart went out to her.”  He has compassion on her, and he responds to her need.  He approaches her son’s body.  Jesus commands the young man to rise-- and he does.  

            The conclusion to this healing story is important to Luke’s theological message.  First, the crowds are filled with awe and they praise God, saying, “God has come to help his people.”  Jesus’ healing actions point to God’s restoration, now begun in Jesus.

            In Luke 7, we hear again themes of how God’s prophets—those who bear God’s word into the world—reach out to heal and save.  Now, the Greek word sozo can be translated as either “heal” or “save.”   Along with the people of Galilee, we see that God’s purpose continues to be about healing.  Just as God had worked in the prophets Elijah and Elisha, so God works in Jesus. 

            In the gospel according to Luke, Jesus heals a lot of people.  In some of the stories, Jesus praises them and tells them that their faith has made them well.  But the woman in today’s story doesn’t ask Jesus to raise her son.  She doesn’t fall on her knees and beg Jesus to bring her son back to life.  All she does is cry.

            Luke doesn’t tell us that either the widow or her son thanks Jesus.   So it doesn’t seem that the point of the story is about faith or gratitude.

  I think maybe this story is simply about grace.  The widow’s son isn’t raised from the dead because of his mother’s faith or the son’s worthiness.  It happens simply because Jesus has compassion for her.

            Luke tells us that when Jesus approaches and sees the widow’s tears, he comprehends all the layers of her tragedy, and he is moved deeply.   Luke tells us that Jesus responded to her out of “compassion.”  The Greek word we translate as compassion means, literally, “to be moved to the depths of one’s heart… or bowels.”   Jesus allowed himself to be touched to the very core of his being by this woman’s pain.

            In coming to live among us, full of grace and truth, part of what Jesus came to reveal to us is how much God loves us.  The scriptures tell us over and over again that God feels our pain, but a lot of people have a hard time comprehending that.   Our God is a God who is intimately involved with us and who even weeps with us.

            When the funeral procession left the widow’s home that day, they  weren’t planning for a celebration.  They were mourning.  When grace comes into our lives, it doesn’t require anything of us but a choice:  to receive it--or not.   Perhaps part of the point is that we should always pack our party clothes, because, with Jesus, you never know when you might need them to celebrate some surprising, amazingly gracious happening.

           

            When Jesus saw the widow’s grief, he had compassion for her.  He didn’t stand at a distance.  He came forward and reached out and touched the funeral bier, even though, according to Jewish purity laws,  that would have made him ritually unclean. 

Next, he spoke to the corpse.  Jesus speaks to the dead son in this story, as he spoke to Jairus’ dead daughter, and called Lazarus out of the tomb.   Jesus simply says.  “Let there be life.”  And there was life.

            When the young  man sat up and started talking, fear seized all the people, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has risen among us!” and “God has looked favorably upon his people!”

            I like the way Eugene Peterson translates this passage in The Message:  “They all realized they were in a place of holy mystery, that God was at work among them.  They were quietly worshipful—and then noisily grateful, calling out among themselves, “God is back, looking to the needs of his people!”  The news of Jesus spread all through the country.”

           

I believe that God acts in power to bring new life, even to situations where that seems impossible.  In the story we heard today, Jesus uses this power to raise the widow’s son from death.  Yet the power of God’s resurrection is more than the power of God to give life after death.  God’s resurrection power spills over into this life so that those who are survivors of the tragedies of this world can live with our pain and sorrow and can overcome the deadly despair. 

            We can know the power of God’s resurrection as the power God gives us to slowly but surely pick up the pieces, bind our wounds, and live a new life, as Easter people.  We can embody God’s resurrection power for others when we reach out to them in compassion    and walk with them in their pain.

             

            I think the real miracle in the story is what happened after Jesus restored the widow’s son to life.  Luke tells us that when the people of Nain saw Jesus restore the widow’s son to life, they shared the good news.  The report of what happened spread throughout all the surrounding regions. 

            I pray that we will all come to recognize the holy mystery:   that our compassionate God is at work among us.  God is indeed with us, looking to the needs of all the people!  God has graciously raised us from spiritual death and given us a living faith in the message of forgiveness and abundant, eternal life in Jesus.  God calls us to new life.

            The scripture passages we heard today help us to see into God’s heart and help us to see what God is up to in the world.  God acts with compassion for widows and for all kinds of people who are pushed to the margins of society…and people who don’t have enough of what they need. 

            We gather together every week to listen to God’s word to us, to try to get more in touch with God’s grace and compassion, and to practice praying together, so that we can get better in tune with what God is up to.

            We gather to learn together and encourage one another and to teach disciples old and young what it means to say we follow Jesus.  We come to be reminded of the good news of Jesus:  that God is love…that God loves the world and chooses to create and redeem you and me and each and every person we encounter.  God chose to come in the person of Jesus, to live among us, full of grace and truth, to embody God’s love for us and teach us what it means to be beloved children of God.

As followers of Jesus, we are called to love God and our neighbors, to work for peace and reconciliation and justice for all, to embody the love of Jesus Christ in all our relationships. As we grow in faith together, we trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us, to lead us further into the truth, and to empower us to live into God’s Kingdom.

            Maybe a small church like Littlefield can’t save the world or transform society in big ways.  But we can embody God’s compassion for our community.  We can look to the needs of God’s people.  We can witness to God’s love and justice locally and beyond.  In our witness we can announce that the way things are is not the way things should be, and that God desires something better for the world.  I believe we can change the world in small ways and perhaps in ways that are bigger and more important than we know. 

            God’s grace keeps breaking into our lives, healing and calling us to new life, and promises to be with us as we live further into the God’s grace and truth.

            Thanks be to God!  Amen.

           

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
June 5, 2016

"Holy Healing". A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Mark 7:24-37

          Jesus is exhausted and he tries to have some time to himself.   But then a desperate mother comes to Jesus, seeking healing for her sick daughter, literally throwing herself down at Jesus’ feet.  She risks her dignity…and risks being shamed—to enter a home where she isn’t wanted, to throw herself down in front of Jesus, who didn’t want to see her.

            And how does Jesus respond?  Not in the way we might have hoped.  This woman is literally begging for help for her daughter, and Jesus says, “Let the children be fed first, for it isn’t fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

            If Jesus' words trouble you, you're in good company.  Biblical scholars have struggled with this saying for centuries, but especially, I think, the past few decades.

            In the parallel story in Matthew, Jesus doesn't even answer the woman.   When the disciples urge Jesus to send her away, Jesus says, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 

`           It sounds like Jesus is dismissing and insulting this woman.  Mark uses the diminuitive form of the Greek word for “dog,” so we might want to soften the effect and think Jesus was talking about feeding cute little puppies.  But that wouldn’t really be an accurate translation. This story is troubling for a number of reasons. 

             It seems that Mark wants to be sure we know who this woman is.  He tells us, “the woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by descent.”  In other words, she’s NOT JEWISH.

            Contrast how Jesus responds to this un-named Gentile woman with the named male, Jewish leader earlier in Mark.  Jesus went with Jairus and healed his daughter.  No problem. 

            But now Jesus is in Tyre, which is Gentile territory, when he says “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 

            I think Mark wants to make sure what a big deal it is when Jesus ultimately performs the miraculous healing. 

            So what do we do with this story? 

            Some scholars believe that Jesus had a long-range evangelistic plan to go to the Jews first...  and then later to the Gentiles.  In their thinking,  Jesus isn't so much saying no--    as he is saying, "First things first.  One thing at a time."

            But the language Jesus used!    "Dogs?"   From what I've read, it's a racist, derogatory term commonly used at the time by some Jews who wanted to put down gentiles.  A lot of people in that culture in Jesus' time thought this Gentile woman has no business being in the company of any Jew--  much less the Messiah. 

            But Jesus has been challenging a lot of the traditional religious beliefs and breaking through a lot of the barriers that separated people.

            Some scholars believe Jesus was giving voice to the traditional beliefs of the time as a test of the woman's faith.  Some believe he was voicing those narrow beliefs to let her make the point that needed to be made.

            Other scholars believe that this desperate, emboldened woman changed Jesus' mind about his mission and who he was called to save.

            I lean toward that understanding myself, as I remember the context.   In Mark’s narrative, this story is sandwiched in between the feeding of the five thousand and the feeding of the four thousand.    Is the bread of life that Jesus offers intended only for the children of Israel?  Or is there enough for everyone? 

            I know there are people who are troubled by the idea that Jesus would change his mind… as well as people who are troubled by the language Jesus used in this story.  Maybe we have to keep chewing on this bread for now.  Like Jacob at the River Jabbok—we need to keep wrestling with it  until we receive a blessing. 

            In any case, this woman doesn't back down.  I love the way one of my colleagues puts it:  "Dog indeed!  She keeps right on nipping at Jesus' heels." ^[1]   The woman dares to take his metaphor and turn it back on him.  Even on these terms, there still should be something from him--  some scrap of grace--  for someone like her,  someone who comes to him in faith.   The woman seems to trust in the abundance Jesus keeps teaching about.  She seems to be challenging him to judge her by what's in her heart. 

            Where the religious establishment and their traditions could only see an outsider--  Jesus sees the woman's heart of faith,  and her persistence, and he heals her child.   From this point on, Jesus continues to expand the circle of God's mercy to include those others consider outsiders.  He welcomes all who put their faith in him.  So, when you look at the big-picture story, it looks like Jesus changes his mind and his plan.

            That's good news for us.     We are all welcome.   We are all included in the circle of God’s mercy.   When Jesus opened himself up to mission to the whole world, it meant his church would be open to the world.  In response, as followers of Jesus, we are called to be open to those whom some people see as outsiders, outcasts, and sinners.  We are called to open ourselves to the whole world in mission.          

            I don’t want to ignore the other story we heard in today’s gospel lesson.  At first glance, they might not seem to have a lot to do with each other--  except that they’re both healing stories.  And I believe that is significant.

            Healing is one of the major themes in the New Testament.  One of my colleagues counted all the healing stories and found that there are forty-one healing stories, told in seventy-two different versions in the four gospels.  These healing stories take up twenty percent of the gospel material.[2]  I agree with Susan Andrews when she says that these healing stories tell us something very important about the nature of God.  God continues to be the creator of our lives—shaping us, mending us, healing us into wholeness.

            When people asked Jesus what the greatest commandment is, he said that the most important commandment is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, and all our soul, all our mind and all our strength… and to love our neighbor as ourselves.    As we grow into a more loving, trusting relationship with God, we become healthier in our hearts and souls and minds and strength.  All of those dimensions of who we are become more integrated…and we become more whole, as we grow into the life God desires for us. 

           

            In the gospel stories we’ve been hearing over a few weeks, we’ve heard Jesus challenging legalistic interpretions of God’s law and proclaiming that purity is not defined by law—but by the love in one's heart and the hospitality and compassion we live in our lives.

            The story about the Syrophoenician woman is a turning point in the gospel, as Jesus redefines who is acceptable in God’s eyes.  The healing turns out to include stories about social healing:  …strangers are welcomed and outsiders become part of the family of God. 

                       

            So what does all this mean for us today?      

            The Syrophoenician woman and the friends of the deaf and mute man refused to believe that God’s mercy and healing are limited to insiders and people like us.  They believed that Jesus could immediately meet their need.  They embodied a faith that trusts in God’s goodness and abundance—a faith that pushes past legalism and exclusivity. 

            When we allow our ears and our hearts to be open to the images of people leaving everything they have, everything they know, desperately seeking safety and freedom for their families—refugees seeking refuge—the Syrophoenician woman can teach us that, in God’s abundant economy, there is enough for everybody.  There is enough, if we reach out and share.

            My friends, this is GOOD NEWS!  So, like the people in the gospel story, may we be astounded and say, “He has done everything well!

            As followers of Jesus, may we embody God’s abundant compassion, so that people will look at us and be astounded with us and say, “They do everything well!

            So be it!   Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

September 6, 2015

           

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^[1]I am grateful to Heidi Husted for this imagery,  in "Living by the Word" in Christian Century (Aug. 16-23), p. 829.

[2] I am indebted to Susan Andrews for this insight, as well as the sermon title, in  “Holy Healing,” at www.sermonmall.com