Sermon For September 10, 2000
Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
HEBREW TESTAMENT: Bread for the Dogs ~ Mark 7:24-30
There is a wonderful preaching story. I don’t know if it ever happened, but I know that it is a true story. It goes like this…
There was a congregation, a large congregation, an important congregation that was waiting for a guest minister. This was a well-respected guest minister, everyone was eager for the visit. They had been looking forward to it for months and months. Well, the Sunday came and the church was full. They looked around and the guest minister was nowhere to be found. The ushers got more and more nervous. The deacons scurried around trying to take care of details. They tried to call his house and cell phone and they couldn’t get through to him at all. They just kept seating people and packing them in a little bit more. Just before the service a man walked in. He had no shoes on and kind of raggy clothes. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. The ushers looked at each other and they found a seat over in the corner of the sanctuary for him. Everybody that was seated there looked over their shoulders at him and scooched a little bit farther away. Finally, it was time for the service to start and the organist looked around, shrugged and started in. The choir sang the introit. The worship leader did the call to worship, hoping that in the last minute the preacher would come in ready for the sermon. The scripture was read, and as everyone waited to see what was going to happen this man without shoes, from the back, stood up and walked to the front to the pulpit. It was at that point that they realized that this was the preacher for the day.
Now we all have our assumptions. We have our assumptions about how people should dress when they come to church. About who is actually going to be interested in coming to church. And often our assumptions are a little bit different than what our head would say if someone was interviewing us. We say that everyone is welcome here in our worship service. But, if this special preacher of the day walked into our congregation, I imagine there are some heads that would turn. Some people that would be a little bit uncomfortable, because this man doesn’t look like he belongs here in worship with us.
This morning, in the adult Sunday school class we had a videotape that was on the topic of Faithfulness or Extremism. It was discussing the issue of exclusivity, inclusively, who is part of the group, who is outside of the group. One of the speakers said that he was unabashedly a Christian. That he felt that he was white hot with his faith. That he loved God, that he loved Jesus, but that at the same time he was open to discussing faith with a Jewish Rabbi, who was his friend, with neighbors and acquaintances from other world religions. Others in the panel discussion pushed him on the issue. They said, “Well, would you say that since you are white hot for Christianity, that you have to believe in Jesus in order to have salvation?” He though for a moment and he said, “Well, yes, I would say that for myself, for me, that is the way.” They said, “You’re not answering the question here. Would you say that for everyone else?” He never could quite come to those words. He always wanted to say, “I’m a Christian, but I am open to everyone else.” We discussed in the Sunday school class this morning, whether it was really possible to be opening and welcoming to everyone if you disagreed with them. If you thought they were wrong. Are you really welcoming them, are you really open to them if you think they are wrong? Or are you tolerating them, tolerating them for good faith, for right behavior? Of course, they are all welcome here, but I don’t want to sit too close to him. Of course, they are welcome, but I don’t approve of what he does. Of course, he is welcome; of course she is welcome.
We have five other congregations either worshiping in this building now, or soon to begin worshiping. A Reformed Baptist congregation downstairs, an Eastern Orthodox congregation in the chapel right now while we are here, Eastern Orthodox, complete with bells and smells of incense, with chimes, with chanting. This afternoon a Korean Presbyterian congregation worshiping here in the sanctuary, with Korean language hymns. In a couple of weeks, on Saturdays, there will be a Korean Seventh Day Adventist congregation. On Wednesday mornings, St. John’s Episcopal Church, waiting for the remodel of their building, worships here for their weekday Eucharist and then gathers in the lounge for Bible study, and on Tuesday nights their choir rehearses here in our building. Do we welcome all these people to our building? Or do we tolerate them in the name of “Christian Faith?” Are we saying we really don’t like their faith, or like the way they worship, but we will let them use our building? It is the Christian thing to do and we like the rent money?
To stretch your boundaries a little bit more, on two occasions we have hosted an Indian Hindu congregation. They come together to celebrate their cultural heritage, to celebrate a high holiday in India, but also to celebrate a high Holy day. I think it was Indian Independence and Krishna’s birthday. They talked about worshiping here and asked about the Sanctuary. I pointed out that we have a cross on the wall that isn’t removable, and I said if it was all right with them to worship in this space, that it was certainly all right with me. So on two occasions we have had a Hindu worship service here in this sanctuary. Are we humoring the minister? Are we looking for more subsidies for our general budget? Or are we welcoming brothers and sisters created by the same God that created us?
We have assumptions about God, assumptions about who is acceptable and who is not acceptable. There are some who would claim that the Bible is the final definer about who is in, who is out, who is loved, who is not, who is going to be rewarded and who is going to be punished. Many of those same people would say that all you have to do is read the Bible and the answers are clear. I contend that is often not the case. We bring our own assumptions to the Bible and we interpret the Bible according to what we would like it to say about who is in and who is out. If the truth be told, we are not the only ones that come to God with assumptions. Jesus of Nazareth, that confusing part of what we call the trinity, the Godhead, is usually understood along with God the Creator, to know all things, to understand all things. In general, this Jesus in the scriptures includes everybody, draws the circle wide, tax collectors, and prostitutes, those who are on the outside of the faith.
Even Jesus had his assumptions as this morning’s scripture passage makes so clear to us. It is easy to read through this passage and read it with a lightness of voice to understand it to be just another story about a faithful response to Jesus. And it most certainly is a faithful response to Jesus, but not one that he expected. Not one that he thought was even appropriate. Jesus is coming to a community to preach. A woman, a non-Jew, a Gentile, a Syrophoenician, one of the hated “others” of the Jewish people, has a sick daughter. Her daughter is going to die. Like any mother, she will do anything she can to find renewed health for her daughter. So, she comes to this man Jesus because she has heard that he is a healer. She comes to him and says, “Please, I need your help. My daughter...” What is his response? “Yup (snap), take care of it right away.”? Uh-uh. Jesus has his own assumptions. Jesus says, “Sorry, it’s not in my job description. You’re talkin’ to the wrong person. I was sent to the Jews, I’m a Jew. God’s chosen people. I am God’s messenger to my people.” It would have been nice if he would have said it that directly, but he didn’t. Instead, it was even more of a slap. Like many tribal groups he referred to his own group as being “the people,” the humans. Everybody else is “less than.” So he said, “It’s not right to take the bread that is supposed to belong to the children and give it to the dogs. My healing is for the Jews, not for the gentiles.” This is the Jesus you know and remember from Sunday school, isn’t it? The all knowing Jesus, the one that loves everybody, the one that understands and accepts? Jesus had assumptions about God and God’s love. In this particular piece of scripture, someone outside the circle said, “Hey, wait a minute, you are drawing this circle of God’s love a little bit too tight.” She said, using his imagery, “But even the dogs get to eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. Jesus, I want to tell you, God’s love is big enough for everybody.” What was Jesus’ response? If he was like most of us he would have folded his arms. He would have dug in his heals and said, “I’m sorry, but that’s just not me.” If there is one thing that is consistent about Jesus, it is that he knew how to be human, knew how to live with humility. So, he stopped for a moment, when she responded. He said, “Oh, I guess you’re right, forgive me I was wrong. Go your way now, your daughter is healed, your faith has made her well.”
We have to be careful when we make assumptions about God.