Preached by the Rev. Deborah Dresser on September 8, 2024
The Saturday Evening Post was a staple of the mid-1900’s. While the magazine is now defunct, the covers of the magazine by Norman Rockwell continue to be cherished Americana. Rockwell had a knack of telling the American story through his illustrations catching ordinary middle-class people in the dentist’s office, the grocery store, or coming home from a summer vacation. I particularly resonated to his depiction of the Thanksgiving dinner—the family gathered around the turkey with all their idiosyncrasies. That could have been my family. And, while appreciating Rockwell’s way of capturing with humor everyday life in small town America, I wonder if his American portrait truly captures the complexity of our country. Seems that some people are missing in his illustrations.
Sometime in my mid-teens I saw a different Saturday Evening Post cover by Rockwell. It made such an impression on me, so much so that I want to share the painting The Golden Rule with you. When I first gazed on this painting – it is quite enormous—it was kind of an epiphany for me. Here is a thanksgiving gathering but vastly expanded. He had brought together a whole panoply of faces, of all sorts and conditions and religions and ages and genders-- black, white, old, young, Christian, Jewish, Hindu, Asian, African. All of God’s people together, belonging to one another. With the inscription of The Golden Rule embossed on the painting; this diverse gathering is bonded in prayer–and an affirmation that God’s love binds all human creation together.
In the face of the truth of this painting, I find myself asking the question: “Do all these faces belong to me? To whom do I belong?” Perhaps you ask this of yourself as well. On the one hand there are easy answers. The most obvious response is that I belong to a particular family- a family since my birth. We are bound to our family of origin—parent and grandparents and siblings—for our entire life. But from there you might say that you belong to a formal group that is voluntarily chosen, such a church, St. Simon’s, or a fraternity or club in which there are certain codes and behaviors that are accepted as the rule. Or perhaps you belong to a less formal group such as a group of artists or a book club. All belongings come with engagement that give purpose to our lives and bring a sense of identity. This is who I am, not as an island unto myself but something bigger than myself.
On the other hand, and this might be the rub, this belonging to particular groups comes with knowing that there are others who not a part of my group, outside my community—people who don’t speak my language, or who practice customs and traditions that seem peculiar to me, people whose values are at odds with mine…don’t share the same code of ethics. The Epistle of James puts it squarely to us. We are a people who value partiality. We who profess our bond with God, at the same time recognize ties that bind and create circles of inclusion and exclusion. Often the boundaries that we live within are deeply internalized from the time of our birth by the families we are born into.
We are hearing a great deal of buzz in this political atmosphere about who belongs and who does not. The buzz is laced with LGBTQ condemnation, migrants, the homeless, disabled or addicts…people pushed to the outside, people who may threaten our way of living. The question of belonging for many, many here in our faith community, is experienced in and through our love for God and the assurance that God loves us. Scripture, our prayers, the preaching affirm that there are no boundaries to God’s love, and we are called to embrace the expansiveness of God’s community, right here on terra firma. Ah, does that mean I need to step out of my comfort zone and question to whom do I belong? And then what to do with all of that?
This brings us to the Gospel and the encounter that Jesus has with a Syrophoenician woman. The back story of this encounter we heard read and preached from last Sunday’s gospel reading. To recap: Jesus has had a harangue with the Pharisees about what is clean and unclean. The Pharisees were upholding the tradition of washing hands before eating. Jesus argued that the practice of a clean heart is more essential than traditions of soap and water. Practices that served to maintain the Jewish person’s exclusive identity. Jesus gets rather testy at the end of that debate, and clearly, he is ready to take time off. Undoubtably the Pharisees are happy to see him go.
So, he leaves the area around the Sea of Galilee and travels to the outskirts of Tyre. Tyre, a part of what is now Lebanon, is not an easy trip, and going by the biblical GPS, it is about 48.6 miles on the Mediterranean coast. This was the land of Gentiles, not a part of Israel. The text is clear that Jesus went alone and intended to hide out. But the problem with fame is that he was found out and by a Syrophoenician woman, a Gentile, living in the neighborhood. Jesus was undoubtably uncomfortable in her presence. All along he has been clear that his messianic mission is to correct, even criticize, his own people, the Jews, and not to engage with Gentiles. If he were to draw a circle around himself, the woman would certainly be on the outside of that perimeter, and she knew it. It didn’t help her situation that she is, of course, a she – a woman with little to recommend her in this society be it Gentile or Jew. Crossing the line risked rejection, but she had urgent business on her mind—a desperately sick daughter. In some sixth sense she knew Jesus would heal her. In amazing forcefulness, the mother throws herself on the mercy and power of this Jew. His response is rather shocking.
The exchange between the two about bread and who deserves it is all about who the Jews accept as worthy of God’s attention. He calls her a dog. Astonishing! And just as astonishingly, his insult is met by her quick wit. Arguing that even on his own terms, there should be something from him—some scrap of grace for someone like her. (Ah, this has the ring of the debate that Jesus and the Pharisees had previously.) And, she says, “Even the dogs get the crumbs under the table.” This is the moment that two opposites meet in unity. In something of a cosmic cultural shift, these strangers meet. Her faith crosses over the traditional barriers. His compassion crosses over the barriers of tradition. Compassion rules the hour and the child is healed. This is a moment of transition… a sign that Jesus gives to the woman and thereafter. God is moving all people beyond the old taboos, and structures that define who belongs and who does not. The dogs of world cease to be outcasts in the resurrected Jesus. All God’s people, including women, are valued equal in God’s kingdom.
In light of the Gospel and our consideration of belonging, I am put in mind of a place in Israel, where people have lived for decades within a divided society that is fraught distrust and alienation. Several years back, I visited that village called Neve Shalom or in Arabic Wāħat as-Salām, which means, Oasis of Peace. In 1972 Dominican Priest, Bruno Hassur, envisioned the manifestation of the Old Testament prophecy “My people shall dwell in an oasis of peace.” For over 50 years, the people of Neve Shalom/ Wāħat as-Salām has been home to Palestinian and Jewish families who have chosen to live together in Israel. Not forswearing their ties with their family of origin they educate their children together, learn and speak each other’s language, govern, and worship cooperatively. The only village of its kind in Israel, it is a beacon of light not only in Israel but in many places in the world that are marked by hostility, divided by religion and ideology and often torn by distrust and acts of terror.
These people have chosen to live on another path. They live by the word of God from the Torah and Koran and the Christian Bible actively seeking to live out God’s desire for a blessed community that embraces differences while living compatibly with each other…continually softening all boundaries, reaching deeply in the soul of their community and growing more profoundly in both directions, within and without, loving God and neighbor. In its 50 years of practice the spirituality of Neve Shalom/ Wāħat as-Salām has been tested. While a high value is placed on dialogue, continually engaging in issues that could easily divide the community, listening to diverse opinions, sitting with each other’s pain and grievances. Here among Jews and Muslims and Christians, Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians, no one is a dog. All who choose to live in this village seek the fullness of humanity in each other.
Brene Brown, writes in The Gifts of Imperfection, “We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection.”
Jesus set in motion the Kingdom of God that was/is for all God’s people, and we witness that turning point in his encounter with the Syrophoenician woman. His resurrection ushered in the new creation in which God’s love is empowering all to work to bring God’s dream of peace to reality.
Belonging to Jesus opens us to a deep spiritual relationship in which we belong alongside all of God’s people regardless of their family lineage, their language, their customs, and yes, even their opinions. God shows no partiality. Knowing this affirms that we ourselves are loved and accepted by God. Open to God’s love we are able to expand our field of belonging and engage in helping others belong. Our work is to find ways to break down walls of separation whenever and wherever they are experienced and allow ourselves to be agents of healing. This work is not often easy, doesn’t always feel successful, but we lean on the truth—the word of the risen Christ and the Spirit who opens our ears to hear God’s truth – called to love our neighbors expansively as God loves each of us.
Let us conclude with a prayer by Ted Loder, author of Gorillas of Grace:
Lord, I believe my life is touched by you. That you want something for me and of me. Give me ears to hear you eyes to see the tracing of your finger
and a heart quickened by the motions of your Spirit.
Amen.
コメント