Mark 7:24-37
Jesus had been preaching all week. And it hadn’t been an easy week either. He’d had a particularly hard time trying to get through to his own family and community- they’d always been his hardest audience, isn’t that always the way! His own people just didn’t accept or really understand what this so-called “good news” was all about. And then to top it all off, even the disciples, who’d had the benefit of so much private teaching and discussion said, “We just don’t understand, can you explain it again please.” They really must have seemed like a hopeless lot.
It was all very frustrating. And it’s pretty understandable if Jesus felt that he needed a break. He needed some space, to recharge the batteries as it were, perhaps even to unclench the teeth, take a deep breath and work up the enthusiasm to try once again. As a teacher of small children, I can appreciate how he felt. There were times when I would have thought that I had given a careful, simple explanation about something, then had a question asked which indicates that they either hadn’t listened or hadn’t understood a word that I said… so I would close my eyes, groan inwardly and think, “How can I say it again in a way that they will understand.”
I think Jesus was feeling like that- but even more so, because he had already tried a number of times to say it again, make it clearer, explain more carefully. I think he was probably saying, “Oh, not again.” So he withdrew, not just across the lake like last time, or just out of the neighbourhood, but into an alien territory, a foreign place. And not only a foreign place in that it was home to foreigners, but it was also completely alien as a place which would normally have been frequented by such as Jesus and the disciples. It was a bit of a ghetto, not the sort of place you would choose to go to relax, but maybe, simply because it was filled with the sort of people you wouldn’t normally mix with, perhaps quite a good way to get away from it all.
And then, blow me down, in this alien place, filled with the sort of people that you wouldn’t normally choose to have anything to do with, some woman found out where Jesus was and tracked him down. If this scene was placed in today’s society it would be as though Jesus had slipped through a side road into King’s Cross, in the red light district where none of his usual social contacts would ever be found. And here in a part of town we wouldn’t care to wander into he was approached by someone, someone who in today’s society would have been akin to a drug addict, a prostitute, a heroin dealer, an alcoholic- or some representative of those things we’re not comfortable with, that we hesitate to approve.
Out of the blue, one of these embarrassing and marginalised people recognised him. In Matthew’s record of this event we’re told that she didn’t approach him quietly, she called out loudly so that all around could hear, “Hey, I heard you were here. I know who you are. Hey, Jesus!”
Remember how Jesus was feeling- rather put out with the whole world you might say, unhappy, impatient and not wanting to be bothered with anyone. And so for once, again according to Matthew’s record, Jesus didn’t respond- I think this must be one of a very few occasions as recorded by the gospel writers when Jesus didn’t straight away turn to someone who approached him. He just ignored her. Pretty off-putting you’d think. Enough to make most of us want to slink away and hope that nobody had seen what had happened. But this woman just kept on yelling, “Yoo Hoo, Jesus. Hey, I’ve got a problem. I’m in trouble.” Rather embarrassing really, certainly Jesus’ friends found it embarrassing. “For heaven’s sake, send her away. Everyone’s looking at us.” And the irritable Jesus tried to do just that, “Leave me alone”, he said.
This doesn’t quite fit into the picture we have of Jesus, does it? Not wanting to be bothered, telling someone to go away. But then, look at it from his point of view. This woman wasn’t anything to do with him, she wasn’t part of his group, one of his friends, a member of his church, or even from his part of town. So he tried to put her off. But she wasn’t too easily put off.
“But I have this little girl, eleven years old. She’s very sick and she’s going to die. And I know you can do something. Please do something!” This woman didn’t give up easily. She wouldn’t be quiet and she wouldn’t go home. She pestered and she nagged. She wanted her daughter to live- a pretty good motivation, so she just kept on asking. She knew that Jesus and his disciples were trying to put her in a box- a box labelled “Not important. Not one of us. Second class.” But she wouldn’t accept that
Even though she didn’t fit into the appropriate category for Jesus’ attention, even though she was nobody important, she nagged him. She dared to say to this busy, famous, impatient person, “Listen to me!” She, a nobody. She would not shut up. And Jesus was getting angrier and angrier, because after all he was trying to have a break, to get away from it all for a while. At last, in his anger, he turned to the woman and shouted, “Woman, is it right to give the bread that is on the table for the children to the dogs? Will you get lost!” Not nice of Jesus of Nazareth to be so rude, to call someone a dog, to tell them to get lost. Be enough to put anyone off you’d think.
But not this woman. This woman turned to him and said, “Excuse me, excuse me mate! But even the little ones underneath get the crumbs from the table. Don’t you be forgetting the little ones underneath.” And Jesus of Nazareth, who had apparently, just for a little while, been so caught up in his own special agenda, in meeting his own needs, who had focused on his own people, his own community- the people of Israel, was suddenly stretched by the words of this woman.
“What did you say?” he asked. “Don’t forget the little ones,” she said again. And I suspect, Jesus began to see more clearly what was happening to him.
“I’m sorry. I’m tired. I got so caught up in my own thing, I lost track of what I’m really here to do.” He did a turnaround. This foreigner, this nobody of a woman, one of the little ones, brought Jesus back on track, reminded him of his responsibility, his real mission. This woman refused to accept the label which society tried to put on her. She was prepared to challenge power and authority. She was not afraid to not only claim, but to demand a better way, a better life.
And sometimes that is what we have to do. Maybe for ourselves, or perhaps for someone else- we sometimes have to dig our heels in, to shout and embarrass people, to say “Hey, that’s not fair. LISTEN TO ME!” If we don’t do this, if we just accept the system, and shrug our shoulders and say, “This is the way it is” we are falling into a trap. We are becoming part of the unfair system, the injustice, the oppression. We need to be like the Syrophenician woman- challenge the unfairness, and don’t be too easily put off!
When Jesus was challenged, he did a turnaround, and he said, “Woman, your child is healed.” Jesus had no problem changing his mind when he knew it was the right thing to do. Sometimes we can believe a certain way, be set in a way of thinking, then we might come across a situation which challenges us. It is as though someone is saying to us. “Hang on, there’s another way of looking at this. Are you sure you’re being fair?” In our church in recent years we’ve been challenged to re-think our attitudes to many things- about women and the language we use, about children, about homosexuals, about aboriginals- about many groups of people that in the past society has wanted to put in a box, with a label on, limiting their options, and even their access to the grace of God.
Jesus was prepared to listen, to be challenged, to change his mind, to respond to the voices of those in need.
Sometimes we need to be one of the voices raised in protest, we need to shout to the world, to the church, to those around us, “We won’t accept a system which says, these people are okay, and these are not. These are acceptable, and these are unacceptable.”
Ands sometimes, we might be one of those being challenged to face an even more unpalatable reality, that WE might be part of the problem. Like Jesus, we might be required to listen, to change our mind, to hear God’s voice saying, “Look at what I have created. They are mine. I dare you to love them all.”
God the creator of all things knows no boundaries, no restrictions, no boxes. Let us rejoice in the God who calls ALL creation to dignity, fullness and wholeness.
Written by Narelle Sellar
Narelle Sellar OAM, is a lay preacher from City Uniting with a long-term connection to Tuggeranong Uniting. For many years, Narelle was the Director of Salem Early Learning Centre under the management of Tuggeranong Uniting Church. Narelle was awarded an OAM in the 2005 Australia Day Honours for her service to child care.
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