Gospel: Mark 7:24-37
Even now, roughly two millennia removed from the moment of Jesus’ encounter with the Syrophoenician woman in this reading from Mark, what we find in the scene must be just as jarring to many of us as it was to listeners in the first century.
On the surface it seems rather straightforward: Jesus travels away from the crowds to find solitude and rest; a Gentile woman seeks him out and asks for help for her daughter; Jesus responds in a way that seems – shockingly – rude and degrading; the woman persists; her daughter is healed. But to fully understand the significance of the passage, it’s important to spend time beneath the surface – and one thing you’ll notice is the significance of borders and boundaries.
First, let’s consider the location. Tyre was well outside the borders of the region of Galilee, located northwest of the Sea of Galilee on the shore of the Mediterranean. It was an area historically held in low regard by the Jewish population, something seen reflected in passages from the Old Testament books Isaiah and Jeremiah. It was an area inhabited by people considered pagans.
Next, it’s important to understand the first century societal structure in place. The culture of Jesus’ time was one rooted in patriarchy, an “honor culture” that – in the words of Chad Myers – “determined to whom and how one could speak and interact, regulated social roles and transactions, and circumscribed mobility within the system.” There were established boundaries on how men and women could interact; there were role expectations; there were divisions between those who were part of the culture and those who weren’t.
From there we now consider the Syrophoenician woman who approached Jesus, one who – based on those cultural expectations of the time – carried a three-fold burden into the encounter: her gender; her ethnicity; and her daughter, considered unclean because of demon possession. The very fact that she, a Gentile woman, even approached Jesus would have been a shocking occurrence, one that ran up against Jesus’ standing in the honor culture and her lack of standing.
We have a scene built upon borders and boundaries, and in their own ways both this woman and Jesus dared to cross them.
Even knowing the lack of regard in which she would have been held, this woman still came to Jesus. As we heard in the passage, she bowed at Jesus’ feet and called him sir. But our translation doesn’t fully capture what happens. This is a woman willing to risk crossing those boundaries because of her deep concern for her daughter. If you look at the original Greek, she didn’t calmly come forward and bow; she fell at his feet. She doesn’t just call him sir; she goes to a title demonstrating respect for his status and reputation and calls him Lord. Another interesting note is that in our translation she begs Jesus, but in the Greek the phrase is “kept asking him.”
In her desperation she came to Jesus and asked him for help over and over and over again.
Now we come to Jesus’ response. For one we think of as being so welcoming and compassionate, it’s a shock to see him seemingly belittle her and refer to the Gentiles as dogs (an insult sometimes used in that period to describe them). There are two ways to consider what he said. On the one hand he was responding as was expected in the honor culture of the day, demonstrating the patriarchal trend. On the other hand he said this to challenge her, to find out how far she was willing to go. How deep was her request for his help? How persistent would she be?
We of course see the answer to that question. When it came to her daughter, she was willing to keep going and directly challenge both Jesus’ words and the culture of the day – and regardless of why Jesus responded to her approach the way he did (culture or test), it was in her response that he found the reason to cure her daughter. It wasn’t her faith that led to the outcome; faith is one word we don’t find anywhere in this passage. We heard it four times in the reading from James but here, in a moment when we expect to hear it – even based on other instances where Jesus says that one’s faith has led to a healing – there’s nothing.
Instead, it was her words – and to me, it was her persistence and willingness to not be bound by social convention. Borders and boundaries mean absolutely nothing when confronted by deep, abiding love – and it’s not just the love of a child that holds the power to break those barriers. Parents; siblings; children; extended family; friends; even strangers. Borders and boundaries lose all power when love is extended to all.
So for me, this scene with Jesus is about love. But it’s also about far more, something that Jesus did often in his time and which by putting our faith into action we can accomplish today. It’s about turning established order and social conventions on their heads. It’s about eliminating borders and boundaries that lead people into living and operating with an “us” and “them” mentality. It’s about recognizing that when one member of God’s family is hurt or suffering, all the family hurts and suffers. It’s about expanding the kingdom perhaps from what we think it should be to what God knows it should be.
Recognize as well that crossing borders isn’t a one-way street. In this passage both Jesus and the woman have crossed borders – the borders of geography, ethnicity, gender, and theology. He went to Tyre, an area beyond his norm, seeking something. She came to him, despite the limitations placed on her in that time, seeking something. Both achieved something remarkable: her daughter was healed, and he expanded the reach – the population – of the kingdom.
Don’t wait for people to cross the borders in their lives to come to us. When we see someone in need, go to them. When we see something in place – a system or circumstance – weighing someone down, don’t wait to see if they’re crushed by the burden; cross the border and help ease that burden. When you see someone who’s been excluded from the table – excluded from the kingdom – slide over, extend your hand across the border, and welcome them.
Like the Syrophoenician woman, show courage and persistence – and like Jesus, show love.
Amen.