Pentecost 16B2018
Mark 7:24-37
by Pastor Sarah Stadler
We all know where the dividing lines are in our communities.
The train tracks
19th Avenue
I dare say…the serving counter here at Grace?
When I lived in Chicago, we didn’t whisper or knowingly nod when we crossed a line. Everything on both sides of the line screamed: It’s different over here! For three years, I lived in the neighborhood of Hyde Park on the south side of Chicago with the boundaries of 47th Street to the north, 61st Street to the south, Cottage Grove to the west, and Lake Michigan to the east. So firm are these boundaries that, when I googled “Hyde Park street map,” what emerged was a series of maps with bold black lines outlining Hyde Park—with the very streets I just named. The south side of 47th Street with its brownstones and fences looks very different than the north side with its gas stations and fast food chains. Lined with trees, trash cans, and recycling bins, the east side of Cottage Grove lies in pristine splendor while the west side remains littered with trash and the large public park overgrown with weeds and tall grass. For a year, I worked at a library on the south side of 61st Street, an adventure on which I often asked my tall, strong classmate and co-worker to accompany me…since we were going to the south side of 61st Street, you know.
We all know the dividing lines and where we belong.
Strangely, Jesus crosses a dividing line today. He knows he doesn’t belong there—in Tyre. Way back in Old Testament days, God had included the city of Tyre in the Jews’ land inheritance, a city which lies north of Galilee on the east coast of Israel. About a thousand years later, King David entered into trading agreements with the people of Tyre even though, by the time of King David, Tyre belonged to a different king. Through various conflicts over hundreds of years, the region of Phoenicia that included the city of Tyre got snapped up by the Romans as part of the Roman Empire. By the time Jesus steps foot in Tyre, both Phoenicians and Syrians—whose land lies to the north and east of Phoenicia—inhabit the city. Phoenicians and Syrians are not Jews and so, by definition, are Gentiles. And among Jews, contact with Gentiles is prohibited. Yet Jesus, we are told, “sets out” and “goes away” to the region of Tyre. Intentionally. He had been nice and cozy in Galilee, in his home region, among his own people, healing and teaching. And then he intentionally sets out and goes away to the region of Tyre. Why?
It’s the strangest story because, when Jesus gets there, to Tyre, he wants to escape unnoticed. But of course, he can’t, and the person who meets him is a woman whose daughter needs demon healing. She’s Syro-phoenician, not Jewish. She’s a woman. She has a daughter with a demon which doesn’t speak well of her lineage. Now at first, when the woman begs Jesus to heal her daughter, Jesus says to her what we would expect of any other first century Jewish man. “Let the children be fed first.” He means the Jews, the children of Israel. “For it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Yes, Jesus just compared her to a dog. Surprisingly, the woman replies, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Meaning, why can’t I, a Gentile woman, get the leftovers of the healing meant primarily for the Jews? She’s not even Jewish, but she believes Jesus can heal her daughter. And something about her logic or her love for her daughter or her cleverness helps Jesus click back into his mission, reminds him why he’s there at all, why he intentionally traveled to Tyre in the first place.
This is such an interesting story because it shows how necessary it is for us to intentionally enter into spaces that make us uncomfortable, spaces where we might not belong, past the lines that divide us, but spaces where God has work for us to do. Where is that? For you? What line might God be calling you to cross for the sake of how God might use you or heal you or call you into relationship? The good news about entering into these spaces, about crossing these lines is that even Jesus just shows up. He says the wrong thing. Even he doesn’t quite get it at first. So, when we enter these spaces and cross these lines, it’s okay for us to just show up—and not have all the answers.
For example:
“Whatever new space you’re entering, whatever line you’re crossing, it’s okay to be a stranger in a strange land if you feel called to go there.”
Maybe you’re at church today for the first time or for the first time in a long time. It’s okay that you don’t know why you’re here or what this is going to mean for you. You just showed up. We’ll see what God does.
Maybe you sat down and ate pancakes and sausage at the pancake breakfast this morning even though you normally serve the breakfast instead of eat it. When you sit down and eat with people you don’t normally sit with, it’s okay to be uncomfortable and to not know what to talk about. You just show up.
Maybe you’re finally going to the doctor to get that pain checked out, that pain you’ve had for years. Telling your doctor and admitting to yourself that something is wrong might not be comfortable; it might even be scary. But it’s okay to not know what the tests will show or what your doctor might prescribe you to do or take. We’ll see—how God brings healing.
Maybe you are beginning a new routine, like an exercise routine, a new practice like daily prayer, a new volunteer opportunity like the foster family respite care, or a difficult transition like ending an addiction or ending a relationship. It’s okay to not know what will happen, where the new thing will lead you, or what God might do through it.
Whatever new space you’re entering, whatever line you’re crossing, it’s okay to be a stranger in a strange land if you feel called to go there. God is calling you there so that you can do something new, so that God can do something new in you—just as God did something new in Jesus.
We don’t always know, in fact, we rarely know what God will do, how God will act if we just show up in the place we feel drawn to. What we do know is that, regardless of where God calls us to go, God will meet us there.