Kibbles, Bits and Blessing
DATE: September 6, 2009
SCRIPTURE: Mark 7:24-30
A few years back church members Doreen Birdsell and Lisa Feistel bought an inn out on the tip of Cape Cod in the wonderful and sometimes wacky place called Provincetown. Their inn, on Cook Street, is right in the gallery district of town where artists from all across the country, and even around the world, display their works. Ever since they opened, Lisa and Doreen have encouraged Linda and me to come for a visit, and this summer we managed to find time to drive the length of Route Six and spend a night there.
They've done a wonderful job of restoring and decorating the inn. Each of the eight rooms has a different flavor. Our room featured a beautiful four-poster bed, lovely wing back chairs and some exquisite art work on the walls. No $39 motel paintings for the Inn at Cook Street, rather wonderful works by local artists, including Doreen herself, who is a fabulous photographer.
We planned to have dinner with Lisa and Doreen that night, but we arrived early in the afternoon, and had some time to go out exploring for ourselves. If you've never been to Provincetown let me assure you, it is well worth the trip! Its location assures a real measure of natural beauty—and the village itself is filled with colorful characters!
While we were out on our walk through town we were passed not once, but twice, by a gentleman caring a dog. Clearly, this was a well-loved dog, for he was cradled in his owner's arms like a baby. The dog may have been a beagle mix, I'm not sure. He was mostly white in coloring, with a few patches of brown. But what made for a rather amusing picture was the manner in which he was dressed. The dog, that is, not the owner. He (or she, I'm not sure) had pink coat on, covered in bright sequins, and rimmed around the collar with a miniature feather boa. Then, capping the whole outfit, the dog was wearing a top hat—also bright pink, also covered with sequins.
I suspect this puppy didn't get kibble and bits at supper, but rather was fed from the table—or maybe enjoyed fresh boiled chicken parts. He probably had a whole wardrobe at home, and was treated to doggy spa treatments with some regularity. Who knows, he may, a la Leona Helmsley, even have a spot in his master's will! Whatever the case, the dog was clearly more than just a dog! He was a friend, a companion . . . a cherished member of the family!
While the dog in Provincetown may have been an extreme example, the reality is here in America we love our pets. Dogs and cats are often treated with tremendous love and respect. And it's not unusual to hear of a dog that shares its owner's bed, or a cat that sleeps on the kitchen counter!
Such was not the case in ancient Palestine. While dogs may have been kept as pets, it's a safe bet that you'd never have seen one dressed in pink sequins! No one would have ever thought of setting apart a whole section of land as a "dog park"! By and large they were a bit wild, and often underfoot. They were viewed as having voracious appetites and bad manners. They were (for good reason) considered to be dirty. To call someone a dog, then, would be a real insult!
So it is that this story comes as such a shock. How is it possible that gentle Jesus, kind Jesus, loving Jesus, could possibly refer to this woman who comes seeking his help, as a dog? It must be a mistake, right? The collectors of stories about Jesus must have gotten this one wrong. Indeed, scholars have long tried to explain it away. The Greek word used here is the diminutive form of the word dog. Something akin to "doggy"—so, some have said, Jesus must have meant it as a term of endearment. But that says more about the discomfort of modern interpreters, and less about how the word was actually used. As one scholar writes: "[T] term was usually an insult intended to degrade those of whom it was used." (NIB: 610)
So what does Jesus mean? Why does he use such an insulting word?
It's important to back up a minute and note the context of the story. Jesus, we are told, has wandered into the region of Tyre and Sidon. It is Gentile territory. While historically it was understood to be part of Israel, in Jesus' day it was not only under the control of the Romans, but also, in the cities at least, occupied by non-Jews. Nonetheless, in the surrounding countryside, most of the farmers were Jews. The crops they grew fed the city dwellers who were by and large Gentiles. Like sharecroppers in the old South, these Jewish farmers were often very poor, and sometimes underfed. While their labors kept the rich Gentile city dwellers well fed they themselves went without. Elsewhere, Jesus expresses his belief that his first and primary mission is to bring healing and hope to his own people, to the Jews. Perhaps, then Jesus' comment addressed to the Syro-Phoenician woman, this urban-dwelling Gentile, is not only a comment on his lack of willingness to step outside of that core mission, but also a comment on the socio-economic situation in the region. "Let the children," meaning children of Israel, the Jewish farmers who worked hard to produce their crops, "be fed first for it is not fair to take the children's food and give it to the dogs," to the Gentiles.
But this woman is tenacious. She loves her daughter as much as, if not far more than, that fellow with the pink-clad puppy in Provincetown. She's not about to be put off by insults. She's not interested in socio-economic commentary. Her kid is sick, possessed by a demon—and she's heard Jesus has the power to heal. So she comes back with a brilliant response.
In that day, folks usually ate with their hands. They'd tear off a piece of bread from the loaf, and crumbs would fall to the floor. They'd eat some lamb or mutton, and then drop the bones beneath the table. And the dogs would swoop in and eat their fill.
"Sir," she says, "even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." –OK, she says, I understand, your first task is to tend to the needs of the Israelites. But what harm would it be if you gave a little of yourself to a Gentile? It's like a crumb—but even a crumb can be nourishing! And Jesus is convinced—convinced and perhaps even convicted. For suddenly he sees that she is not just a Gentile, but a mother. A real live mother—a human being, not a stereotype. And not only that, she is a woman of real faith—tenacious faith. "For saying that," he says, "you may go—the demon has left your daughter." (7:29)
So what are we to make of this? How do we reconcile our view of Jesus, the gentle healer, with this rather harsh exchange? Do we write it off as a misunderstanding of the original event—even as a false story? Or do we recognize that perhaps it is a reflection of the fact that Jesus, like all human beings, was a product of his times? Do we recognize that often part of what it means to be human is to be caught up in our own little world, sometimes to the exclusion of others, sometimes to the point of prejudice? Maybe Jesus was simply being human.
I leave that for you to decide. But that's the way I lean. I think Jesus, who we say was fully human, as well as fully divine, was displaying some of his humanness here. He naturally sided with his fellow Jews, who he felt were getting the short end of the economic stick. And this Gentile woman was a reminder of that. And his first response came out of a preformed idea—out of a stereotype. But here's the good news—Jesus in the end, rises above his prejudice! In the end, he sees through the stereotypes and recognizes the humanity of the Syro-Phoenician woman. And so he is able to treat her in a new way, one that addresses her need.
Like Jesus himself, each of us here may have to continue to deal with our own prejudices and stereotypes--but collectively we have committed ourselves to accepting all people, and to offering the healing and nourishment of the gospel to all who seek it. We have an open table, where anyone can come and share in the Communion meal. No one needs feed off the crumbs! We have declared ourselves open and affirming. We have stated our intent to be welcoming of all people, regardless of race, ethnicity, disability, or sexual orientation. Its not so much no dogs allowed, rather, it is no one here will be considered a dog, but rather a wonderfully blessed child of God.
Amen.
John H. Danner