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Century Christian
Church 1301 Tamarack Road, Owensboro, KY 42301, (270) 684-0286, Pastor: Rev. Jim Westmoreland |
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I May Stop By To Get My Blessing An aging mother had three sons. Her oldest son who was a builder wanted to do something special for his mother. So, he built her a very large house. Her second son had an auto business. So, he decided he would provide his mother with a limousine and driver. Her youngest son, who was a successful businessman, did not want to be out done by his brothers so he bought his mother what he thought was the perfect gift. He paid thousands of dollars for a parakeet that had been trained over a twelve-year period to quote scripture. All one had to do was call out a book of the bible and verse and the parakeet would quote it. He was sure his devoted mother would like his gift best of all. The mother was grateful for the gifts she had received from her sons. To her oldest son, she said that she loved her new home, but she could easily live in one room of it and she seldom had the strength any more to keep such a big house clean. To her middle son, she said she appreciated his thoughtfulness, and it was nice to be able to go places, but she no longer had the energy to go very often. To her youngest son, she said his gift was so wonderful, and she was so grateful to have a son who thought so much of his mother. And, she just wanted to thank him and let him know that she thought that was the best chicken she had ever eaten! It is possible to have received blessings and opportunities in our lives and still not be a blessed person. Why is that? How is it that we can benefit from so much and yet take things for granted? Who has not received a letter in the past that begins, "You may be the lucky WINNER!" Then we find out that we are supposed to call a telephone number or tear out some stick-on squares and circles and stick them on a card to be mailed back in. We may feel that the chances of our winning are not very good. We may feel that it is too much work or hassle to find out if we won. We may also feel that to respond is to invite future intrusions by others and we choose to avoid that happening. And so, if there is a reward there, we minimize it, we explain it away, make light of it and dismiss it. At the very best, our attitude is that we may stop by or check into the promised reward. The account of the healing of the Gentile woman's daughter in our reading this morning is about a Syrophoenician woman. She is clearly identified as a "foreigner," a non Jew. Jesus has moved beyond the land of Israel to Tyre, a port city on the Mediterranean for some retreat time with his disciples.. No sooner has he gotten over the border when he is confronted by a very distressed mother. She is desperate. Her daughter has a severe mental illness, described in that day as having an unclean spirit. This must have been very troubling to the mother, because she seemed to be tormented on behalf of her daughter. The woman comes to Jesus, addressing him in a very formal manner. Such formality is not often used to address Jesus. How do we account for the woman saying, "Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David" (Matt 15:22). His own disciples call him "Master," less frequently "Lord," sometimes "Rabbi." But this woman, being an outsider, not knowing what to call Him, gives him the whole works. Remember, she is an outsider to the Jewish faith, and also to Jesus, and she knows it. She needs help in the worst kind of way, so she comes to Jesus begging. Have you ever had to appear in court for a speeding violation? We become very polite and deferential. We try hard to show respect as we plead our case and hope to sway the judge with our sincerity and appropriately spoken, "Your Honor, Your Grace or Your Royal Highness," as we stumble over unfamiliar words and titles. So the woman says, "Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David" (Matt 15:22). And he does not respond at all! I know the usual interpretation: Jesus is testing this woman's faith. But I don't really find that a very satisfying explanation. I can't think of a time in the New Testament when Jesus puts people's faith to some sort of test. Jesus doesn't play with people in need, testing them to see how far he can push them until they go over the edge. And yet, there it is: Jesus doesn't acknowledge or answer her. Not only does Jesus not answer her, but when she pesters the disciples, Jesus finally comes back with an answer worse than silence. Matthew's version of this story records Jesus saying, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (Matt 15:24). In other words, "Sorry, you are excluded. You don't have the right skin color, national origin, education or job security. You are not a member of the right club. I am way out here, beyond the borders. You are not an Israelite. You are an outsider, a nonbeliever." But this woman is not to be put off too easily. And finally Jesus speaks to her, well not really to her, but speaks about her. Jesus says, "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to dogs" (Mk 7:27). That would probably be taken as an insult anywhere, but in that part of the world, it is particularly tough language. The metaphor is that the children are the house of Israel and that she, the Gentile outsider, is a dog. This woman will not to be put off so easily. She know that Jesus is a healer and her daughter needs healing. She will not be put down and stay there. She comes right back at Jesus. She is resilient, pushy, and determined to get a hearing. She says, "In our houses, even the little puppies that scramble around on the beaten floors, even they can have the crumbs that fall off the family table." And now Jesus marvels, as he said to those about him, "I have not seen such faith no, not in Israel." He doesn't say, "I haven't seen such desperation or neediness." He says, "I haven't seen this kind of faith, even in Israel." He says, "Faith." The problem with this woman is that she is not of the faith. She is an outsider. She knows nothing of the beliefs and traditions of Israel. Yet Jesus says that she is a paragon of virtue. How does she move from no faith, outside of faith, to be recognized by Jesus as full of faith? We say so casually, "I follow the Christian faith," or "I have faith in Jesus." By that we usually mean something like we adhere to Christian beliefs, that we model our lives on certain Christ-like precepts. But this woman has done none of that. She has simply been desperate, at the end of her rope, utterly without hope unless Jesus reaches out to her. We have the feeling that in that moment when she presses in upon Jesus, and he turns toward her, this is the center of faith. When human need becomes desperate, heated, white-hot and frantic, when human need and divine compassion meet, this is faith. We church type people usually don't think of faith in that way. We say things like, "In order to have faith, you must believe '1, 2, 3.'" We have all kinds of hurdles and requirements: intellectual, historical, ecclesiological, sometimes even aesthetic and sociological. Though we Disciples of Christ resist having any creeds, other churches do have creeds that a believer must confess and believe in. Theology is fine. Biblical knowledge is essential, but faith is also a matter of somebody knowing they are not God and that they are not self-sufficient. Faith is being needy and desperate enough to reach out beyond ourselves, and it is perceptive enough to reach toward Jesus. Some of you know that deep faith because you have come to Jesus, not for a pleasant discussion of spiritual matters, but rather because you needed a miracle in the worst sort of way. Maybe the problem with too many of us is that we are fairly well fixed. We are not miserable, and we are certainly not desperate. Our attitude can be too casual, too arms-length, too suspicious, or we may just not believe that he can do anything for us, and we say, "I may stop by to get my blessing." That is like saying that we don't really believe there is a blessing for us, or that it just isn't worth my time and attention. But there is something about Jesus that keeps close company with the desperate. This Syrophoenician woman doesn't know much about religion. All she can say is, "please, help." And then it happens. This woman moves from stilted, formal address to being shoved forward by the tough words of Jesus. She blurts out, "please, help." And then it happens. She makes a leap of faith, leaping out of her desperation, into the embrace of Jesus. It is a desperately hopeful, faithful leap. Her will and her actions demonstrated her faith. Her daughter is saved. We may not be desperate enough right now to hear this story. If we're not too desperate right now, we need to file this away until later. Today, we may see stopping by to get our blessing as something to do if it is not inconvenient. But, someday, life being what it is, we'll be needy and we will be in the place of this gutsy, faithful woman. Remember this story. And someday, maybe this Sunday, there are people who are in church, with Jesus, because they need a miracle in the worst sort of way. They may not have all our answers, know all that we know, but today's gospel suggests that they are close to the heart of Jesus. Their presence here is a reminder of the seriousness, the resourcefulness, the riskiness of the love of Jesus. The woman says, "Lord, never mind that I am looked down on, or the fact that I am a heathen. My daughter is sick, please help." And Jesus says, "this is the beginning place for you, this is why I have come into the world." This may not be the end of a journey with Jesus, but this is where the journey can begin.(1) And so, If this is your day, won't you stop and receive your blessing? Amen. Century Christian Church, September 10, 2006 - Sermon by Jim Westmoreland
1. This message is based on a sermon by William H. Willimon, "Good News for the Desperate," Pulpit Resource, July - September, 2006, Vol. 34, No. 3, p. 47-48. |
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