Good News For All

Jesus could be such a puzzling and enigmatic person. If you read or hear enough new testament stories, you discover that not everything he said and did was meant to make life comfortable or easy, was it? Sometimes he said or did things that left people feeling uncomfortable, perhaps even a little confused. There are elements of the passage we shared from Mark's gospel this morning which I surely characterize that way. Let's briefly look back at it.

Mark tells us that Jesus has retired to the area of Tyre and Sidon, a predominantly gentile territory. He is not there to preach or teach, mind you. He just wants to rest. Almost immediately a gentile woman who has a daughter who is possessed by some evil spirit comes seeking him out. Falling on her knees before him, she begs Jesus for a healing for her daughter. For reasons that are not immediately clear, Jesus appears to rebuff her. "First let the children eat all they want," Jesus says to the woman, "for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to their dogs." (7:27) well, what on earth does that mean? This poor woman has come to Jesus on her daughter's behalf. What do dogs have to do with all this? And why does Jesus come off sounding so harsh? Many, many biblical scholars have gone over this passage, trying to find some meaning or purpose for his words. It seems so out of character for Jesus. In the course of their studies, many of the writers and scholars focused on the question of whether Jesus really was saying that his saving message was to be shared first with the Jews, the children he speaks about, and then with the rest of the world, seemingly characterized here as dogs. As I said, puzzling…

Perhaps a few words of explanation are in order.

We have to first remember that this story is the account of one man, Mark, and how he understood Jesus' mission and ministry in the world. Mark wrote his gospel almost forty years after Christ. He did not know Jesus personally. He gathered accounts of Jesus' life based on someone else's memories, or upon the stories that others passed on to him. Over time, an entire movement had grown up around this Jesus of Galilee. To some extent, well-in-grained traditions and stories, whether factual or elaborated upon, provided the basis of faith for a number of succeeding generations of believers. Mark was the first of the four evangelists to actually begin to write a narrative about Jesus, but it was not man-on-the-scene account. He didn't actually witness anything. He just shared the stories as he understood them. Taken in that light, are we supposed to believe that Jesus actually rebuffed the woman in need? Or was this the way in which mark and the faith community at that time interpreted this event? Did they, by chance, really believe that the gospel should come first to their Jewish brothers and sisters? Was the first Christian community really that exclusive? By itself, it's an intriguing question.

In the end, the woman did not go home disappointed, did she? Jesus healed the little girl because her mother had the courage and conviction to speak back to Jesus. "whether they get the meal or the crumbs, even dogs need to eat," she said to him. That was the turning point in this little exchange. Because she was determined in her cause, because she had this faith in Jesus, this expectant faith, she received what she asked for from him. And, while it is true that some people have the courage of their convictions to seek out justice and peace and healing, even when circumstances would not offer then much hope, there are others who do not or cannot, and therein lies the lesson.

There are many people in this world who have been made to feel different, as if they are outsiders or unacceptable, not unlike the Syro-phonecian woman in the gospel story. In one way or another, they are seeking their own kind of acceptance, healing or hope. Whether by experience or expectation, they know that the church is often the place to find these things. Churches are supposed to be like a home, aren't they? A place of refuge and comfort. As I say that, I am reminded of the concluding line from a favorite Robert frost poem, "the death of the hired hand."

'home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in.' (pg. 160 enlarged anthology of Robert frost poems.)

For people who are searching, the hope is not that the church feels like it has take them in, but that the church will want to take them in by graciously offering them a warm welcome.

I know how much we love our church. Because we are so comfortable with each other, we are almost like family to each other. I think the challenge is not to become so familiar that we set up informal boundaries around ourselves. It's a very delicate balance to appreciate the warmth of our fellowship and still not come across as a special club.

I received a thought-provoking e-mail story from a friend some time ago. It's the story about a cowboy who was passing through a town and decided to attend a worship service. He came upon what we might call an up-scale church, a big beautiful building in an exclusive neighborhood. Although he was not dressed as nicely as most of the worshipers, he was wearing the best clothes he had: a clean, if somewhat faded, flannel shirt, his best jeans, and some fairly presentable boots. He held a well-worn hat in one hand, and an equally worn Bible in the other. With a five-dollar billed tucked in his pocket, he came in that Sunday morning and sat himself down in a pew along the side aisle. For some reason, worshipers around him sort of gave him plenty of room.

At the end of the service, the pastor came over to the cowboy, to not only welcome him to worship but to also ask him for a favor. "I’m glad you're here," the preacher said, "but before you come here again, perhaps you'll ask God what sort of nice clothes you might wear in his house." the cowboy assured the preacher that he would.

The following Sunday, the cowboy was back in worship, wearing the clothes he'd worn the week before. Once again he was shunned or ignored. And once again, the preacher came over to speak to him, but this time the preacher wanted to remind him of the conversation they had had the previous week. "did you ask God about what sort of clothes you might wear in his house?" the preacher asked. "Well, yes I did," the cowboy said. "God told me he didn't have a clue what to wear. He also said he'd never been in this church."

That story is a cautionary tale for churches and worshipers who become so comfortable with themselves that they exclude anyone who is strange or different or who doesn't measure up.

There are people all around us who are searching for some sort of hope in their life. They may be poor or underprivileged or poorly educated or challenged in ways which set them apart from others around them. They may look different from you and me, or they may not. Yet, in one way or another, it's quite possible that they are searching for something which will make a difference in their life. They may not realize what it is they need, or how to ask for help because not everyone has the courage or the faith or the determination of the Syro-phonecian woman in the scripture or the cowboy in the story. Yet, there is something stirring within them, and they might wonder if the church is the place to find some answers. They are here in Wells as surely as they are a part of every community. What that means is that you and I have to be all the more sensitive to those around us.

It should go without saying that the Gospel is and always has been an all-inclusive message, meant for all people, no matter their class or station in life. In our hearts we know what that means. Living it out is another matter, isn't it? If this sounds like just another "God loves us so we should love others" story, then so be it. Is that not what we are supposed to be all about? Are we not called to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and comfort those who mourn? Are we not supposed to share the same love of Christ which gives us comfort and hope? At one time or another, we have all been in need of grace, forgiveness and acceptance. As the church of Jesus Christ, we are not only called but commanded to love others even as we have been loved.

The good news of Jesus Christ really is the gift that keeps on giving. If we believe that, then we have to ask ourselves: what would a seeker receive here in this church?