Erasing the Lines

Sunday, September 8 – Mark 7:24-37 also Isaiah 35: 4-7a, Psalm 146, James 2:1-10 [11-13] 14-17

You may have seen one of my favorite cartoons. It’s just a black and white sketch created by David Hayward (who goes by “Naked Pastor”) that shows a bunch of people with big pencils drawing the lines of a grid as far as the eye can see. But in the foreground is Jesus. He’s got his pencil flipped around, erasing all the lines that the other people are drawing.

And you can tell by the scowls on their faces that the busy line-drawing people around Jesus are not at all happy with what he’s doing.

In fact, when we think of Jesus, we mostly think of him as erasing lines and breaking down barriers between people. The overall picture we get of Jesus from the gospel narratives is of someone who overturns our assumptions about who is “in” and who is “out” in terms of the love of God.

Let me give you the spoiler alert right now – whether you’re a rich young ruler, an impoverished woman, or a tax collector, you’re “in”! You are loved by God.

But then we get to today’s gospel reading and – cue the car brakes sound effect – it looks like Jesus is the one who’s drawing lines! What the heck is that about? I have to admit, I’m not completely sure. But let’s take a closer look and see where it takes us.

First, this story appears in Mark after a period where Jesus has been pressed upon by both the hordes of followers who are after him for healing and feeding, and by the religious leaders who want to question him about his actions and choices. He’s under a lot of pressure. After these confrontations, Jesus goes off to Tyre and Sidon.

Now this is very curious to me, because these two cities were about 50 miles away from Galilee, and they’re not places of the Jewish people. Is it possible that Jesus went there specifically to get away from the people who would know him? Maybe he just felt he needed a break. A quick vacation in a coastal town. Mark says that “he entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there.” Whose house was this and why did he go there? We don’t know. Mark doesn’t tell us.

When I put myself in the story, I can imagine Jesus just looking for some peace and quiet. Popping over to a little seaside B&B. Sitting on the balcony overlooking the water with a cup of wine, resting his weary bones. Closing his eyes and listening to the waves.

But even here, in this place far away from Galilee, he “could not escape notice.” His tranquility is broken by a Syrophoenician woman, a local Gentile or non-Jew, who drops down at his feet and begs him to heal her daughter who’s suffering at home under the oppression of an unclean spirit.

What happens next is not what we might expect.

Jesus is dismissive, saying, “Let the children [meaning the Israelites] be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs [the Gentiles].” Ouch.

Now there are some who interpret this response from the perspective of the divinity of Jesus, as if he never really meant to call her a dog but was only testing her faith. When I first read this story, I was tempted to lean toward the perspective of the humanity of Jesus, imagining him as tired and pressed upon by both those who wanted his help and those who wanted to get rid of him. In that scenario, we can imagine Jesus as reacting out of his human weariness and frustration and then being shown something that expands his own thinking.

But maybe Jesus didn’t go to a place populated by Gentiles, outside of his own community, just to get away. What if he went there specifically to make a point about God’s relationship to people outside the Jewish fold?

I wonder if, in his interaction with this woman, Jesus wasn’t first expressing what she and her fellow Gentiles would have expected from their religious neighbors. Maybe that’s the way they felt they were typically treated. Like they were the “out” group. Like they were the dogs not welcome at the table of God. After all, many religions’ beliefs and practices focus on purity, separation, and exclusion from other groups.

But this brave woman, desperate for her daughter’s healing, crosses the lines drawn by religious custom, and pleads for Jesus’ help, for God’s notice, and love. Not only that, but she cleverly outwits the argument against her, saying, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

I can just imagine Jesus smiling when he tells her that for saying what she said – for pushing back against the lines that all the “religious” people around her kept drawing with their big pencils – she could go home in the faith that her daughter had been healed from a distance. And we see from our first reading and from the psalm that when God is present, healing and flourishing are too.

Right after this encounter, Jesus heals the deaf and mute man – another Gentile. Again, Jesus shows these Gentile people through the healing he brings that God is present with them. He opens their ears to the truth that God’s love goes beyond the boundaries of the Israelites.

Can you imagine how radical that would have been for his time and place?

Unfortunately, the communities of faith that James was writing to were still drawing lines. They were favoring the rich and powerful while dishonoring the poor. I think James is tapping into a nasty side of us humans where, when we feel smacked down by someone “above” us, we have to go find someone else who we can think of as “beneath” us to make ourselves feel better.

We love drawing those big-pencil lines. We think we get to decide who God can love.

But God and Jesus keep erasing our lines.

One of the early church fathers wrote that “God is a circle whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.” Meaning there is no outer boundary to God’s love. Bruce Epperly also says it well, when he writes that

All of God’s children deserve our reverence and respect, and this is revealed in our political advocacy and personal relationships. Following God’s way challenges us to question our cultural values, sense of propriety, and ethnic and religious boundaries. Ultimately, there is no ‘other” for persons of faith. Despite our differences, we are one as God’s beloved children – our calling is to be boundary breakers and spiritual and political unifiers. Status and wealth mean nothing in God’s realm, and all deserve equality.”

Now we get to ask ourselves who we want to be. Do we want to be the ones drawing the lines, or the ones erasing them? Who beyond our fold can we invite to the table of God’s love today? Who can we embrace in love to bring God’s healing presence?