Sermon Seeds: Inclusion
Sunday, September 8, 2024
Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost | Year B
(Liturgical Color: Green)
Lectionary Citations
Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23 and Psalm 125 OR Isaiah 35:4-7a and Psalm 146 • James 2:1-10, (11-13), 14-17 • Mark 7:24-37
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts/?z=p&d=72&y=382
Focus Scripture: Mark 7:24-37
Focus Theme: Inclusion
Series: Here I Am…Deconstructing (Click here for the series overview.)
Reflection
By Cheryl A. Lindsay
What do we do when Jesus seems to be as bad as everyone else…when the words he speaks cause us great discomfort and seem to be at odds with the God that we know and love? The passage in Mark is not the first time that someone—or even an entire group of people—gets othered by the one we expect to do and be better. But, this is Jesus doing that work, and his language seems particularly harsh. Readers and listeners surely ask the question, “Did Jesus just call that woman and her child and the people in their community…dogs?” Even after reading, studying, and even preaching this passage, I am still asking. It’s that jarring.
The natural tendency is to gravitate toward the positive act of the story. The woman becomes the lead, sympathetic, and commendable character. Her persistence, faith, and boldness in demanding to be seen and heard presents a story worth telling. Jesus’ words do not dampen her advocacy for her child. Her determination matches his dismissal, and we can root for her as she deftly counters his pathetic argument. How can the Creator of abundance make a claim based on a scarcity mindset?
At the heart of “othering,” whether manifested as racism, misogyny, transphobia, ageism, ableism, or classism, lies misplaced fear of scarcity and misplaced entitlement. That is not the only dynamic involved, but it should not be discounted. When one believes there is not enough for everyone to be satisfied, it becomes easier to attach blame toward the other and consider them undeserving of what one wants to hoard for themselves. When we fear there are not enough jobs, we accuse another group of taking them. When we fear there’s not enough time to reach our accomplishments, we insist that an older generation prematurely step aside.
In the text, Jesus is asked to do something that he routinely does—an act of deliverance. The gospel narrative teems with instances of an encounter with Jesus leading to healing, liberation, and restoration. At times, it occurs without his expressed permission or active participation. His presence serves as a sufficient agent. What makes this encounter different? The one needing help is from outside the faith community.
Jesus again journeys into gentile territory. This trip reveals the receptivity of the gentiles to Jesus’ ministry and proves that there is room for them to be included. Mark, then, uses the receptivity of the gentiles to highlight the growing lack of perceptivity of the Jews whom Jesus encounters throughout this section. Jesus’ first stop is in the region of Tyre. There, he meets a Syrophoenician woman who begs him to cast a demon out of her daughter (7:26). Initially, Jesus seems disinclined to help her. He dismisses her by insisting that “the children” (Israel) are to be fed first (7:27). To do otherwise is tantamount to giving their food to dogs (7:28). Although Jesus calls her a dog (7:27), the woman is not dissuaded. She insists that even the dogs get crumbs (7:28). Jesus validates her statement by casting the demon out of her daughter (7:29–30). However, the veracity of her statement has farther-reaching implications than the fulfillment of an individual request.
Racquel S. Lettsome
Too many Christian communities follow the example found in the first part of this story. The resulting gatekeeping manifests in exclusionary rather than inclusive practices. When access to the food pantry requires attendance at church activities, when the Ten Commandments are prominently displayed in public spaces that would never allow the tenets of other faith traditions to be highlighted, when Christians are considered more valuable or to have better character than others, followers of Jesus call non-followers dogs.
In my state, there is a Christian-owned company that is infiltrating local, public school districts offering an optional faith-based curriculum that would take students out of their classrooms each week for Christian classes held at their location. They target mostly rural or semi-rural communities. This has caused charged debate found in school board meetings, online community-based groups, and other community gatherings. There are numerous reasons why this is a terrible idea from an education perspective, and many have lifted up the importance of separation of church and state, the lack of transparency from the company, and the disruptive nature of routinely shifting a portion of the student body from their assigned classes.
Notably, the concept is inherently exclusionary. Classrooms would be segmented by those who attend and those who do not. How many students will face peer pressure, directly and indirectly, to participate in these classes regardless of their personal faith tradition, commitments, and beliefs? And, what would be the response if a similar company serving Hindu, Muslim, or Atheist communities wanted a similar arrangement? Many Christians who support the current proposal would protest another religious tradition receiving equal treatment. Unfortunately, Christians have become known more for wanting exclusive and exceptional consideration than for loving our neighbor.
The Markan text reminds us that Jesus was born into a particular culture and impacted by the norms associated with cross-cultural relationships.
Jesus’s use of the epithet “dogs” to describe the woman and her daughter is insulting; in biblical terms, dogs are regarded as unclean scavengers (cf. 1 Sam. 17:43; Ps. 22:16; Prov. 26:11; Isa. 56:10–11; however, cf. Tob. 6:2; 11:4). Since Jesus has already healed non-Jews (Mark 5:1–13; cf. 3:7–8), it is surprising that he initially rejects the woman’s request because of her ethnicity: she and her daughter are gentile “dogs,” in contrast with the “children”, referring to Israel, who merit the “bread” of salvation. Faced with the pleading woman at his feet, Jesus asserts his ethnic and religious privilege as a Jew, whose fellow Israelites have priority in salvation history (although ultimately all nations would acknowledge the true God)…. The woman’s reply acknowledges Jesus’s dominant status as a reputed exorcist; she is the only character in the Gospel who unequivocally addresses him as Kyrie (“sir,” “master,” or “lord”). At the same time, she undermines his rather unsympathetic, theologically loaded refusal with an observation from everyday life: children drop crumbs at mealtime, and the household pets under the table snap them up. This retort causes Jesus to change his mind: “For this saying, go, the demon has gone out of your daughter” (v. 29). The woman is thus the only Gospel character who wins an argument with Jesus.
Mary Ann Beavis
Again, her portrayal engenders sympathy and admiration. Some theorize that Jesus was testing her or publicly demonstrating the expansiveness of the kindom in a subversive way. Those theories attempt to soften the difficulty in reconciling the Jesus who charges disciples to love their enemies with the person overheard calling this woman and her daughter dogs.
Some of the earliest commentators on the story of the Syrophoenician woman (7:24–30) focus on the woman as model of faithful persistence. Bede describes her reply to Jesus’ initial refusal of her request as both “humble and faithful.” He asserts that these are the qualities that garnered her request. Calvin observes, “she adhered firmly to … [her] sentiment of faith” despite the fact that Jesus “[makes] trial of her faith” (Calvin 1845, 2:266–68). Although he describes her actions as “presumptuous,” most early commentators downplay her transgression of social boundaries by finding qualities such as humility and service in her behavior. Pseudo-Chrysostom goes so far as to say her reverence was demonstrated by placing herself at the level of a dog. Feminist and womanist scholars broke from this tradition by highlighting her disregard of social convention and applauding her bold behavior. They point to her “sass” (womanists) and her wit (feminists), rather than traditional female virtues of passivity and submission, as the reason she got what she needed from Jesus.
Racquel S. Lettsome
At a time when many prominent and prosperous corporations are pulling back from their efforts to address Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI), it is disheartening to accept theological claims that marginalized people should be commended for being satisfied with the scraps that fall from the tables of the privileged and powerful.
And yet, this is not the end of the passage. Jesus continues on the journey into Gentile territory. Presumably, the miracles that follow involve those from the margins and outside of his native culture. He heals, redeems, delivers, and restores. In the second miracle of the pericope, Jesus heals privately where before he shamed publicly. Yet, the recipient of the gift and those who hear about it will not be kept silent. In their own way, they demonstrate their boldness in response to Jesus’ words just as the Syrophoenician before them.
Even Jesus struggled with inclusion. Yet, when confronted with his embedded bias, Jesus changes his mind and his actions. Perhaps the good news from this story is that once again, Jesus empathizes with our struggles and demonstrates a new and better path for the future where all are well, whole, and included.
Here we are…deconstructing inclusion.
Reflection from Voices of People of African Descent
The 33rd General Synod adopted a Resolution to Recognize the United Nations International Decade for People of African Descent (2015-2024). As part of its implementation, Sermon and Weekly Seeds offers Reflection from Voices of People of African Descent related to the season or overall theme for additional consideration in sermon preparation and for individual and congregational study.
While Michael Brown’s killing justifiably sparked a wave of nationwide protests over lethal police shootings of Black men, the killing of Black women like Michelle had yet to be memorialized in widespread activations and denunciations. Fran offered a powerful and moving witness to the fact that Black women were also losing their lives in circumstances that spoke to the disregard of Black life and family bonds. There was no sound reason for their stories to be banished to the shadows of our collective consciousness, mere afterthoughts in the litany of savagery that has come to constitute anti-Black state violence. Fran’s act reminded us all of the obvious fact that slain women’s mothers don’t grieve for them any less, and we should not protest their killings any less than we do the killings of their brothers, fathers, and sons.
Six months later, as I look out at the audience, I wonder who among them will know Michelle Cusseaux’s name. Would they know of any other daughters who were stolen like Fran’s was? Or was the erasure of these horrific losses difficult to interrupt because of the reflective ways that the very notion of anti-Black police violence defaults almost exclusively to our endangered sons? To make the patterns of erasure visible—and audible—I invite the audience to join me in doing something new. I ask those audience members who were able to do so to stand. I tell them, “When you hear a name you don’t recognize, take a seat and remain seated.” I promise to invite the last person standing to tell the seated audience what they know about the person whose name no one else recognized. Then I call out the names, slowly, deliberately, and loud enough for even those seated at the very back of the auditorium to hear Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, and Freddie Gray. I’m always a bit surprised when one or two people don’t recognize even those first few names, but fewer than a handful have taken their seats by the time I lift up Freddie Gray. The vast majority of people recognize these men and know the common risks that link their fates: they are Black and did not survive an encounter with the police. I pause for a moment and ask the audience to look around. The room is quiet and still. People take in what they have demonstrated: group literacy about the vulnerability of Black people to police violence. At the moment, it seems a completely obvious reading of social knowledge that is minimally necessary to ground any conceivable collective action.I continue. I say, “Michelle Cusseaux.” And then comes that whoosh of dozens, sometimes hundreds, and sometimes thousands, of people taking their seats. It is the sound of silence.
—Kimberlé Crenshaw, #SayHerName: Black Women’s Stories of Police Violence and Public Silence
For Further Reflection
“I always thought I wanted to be one of them
when really all I needed was to be fully me.” ― Richard Silvia
“As a boldly inclusive leader, you will need to counteract the natural human tendency to hear only the voices you most easily connect with.” ― Minette Norman
“The antidote to feel-good history is not feel-bad history but honest and inclusive history.” ― James W. Loewen
Works Cited
Beavis, Mary Ann. Mark (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament). Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011.
Lettsome, Racquel S. “Mark.” Gale A. Yee, Ed. Fortress Commentary on the Bible: Two Volume Set. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014
Suggested Congregational Response to the Reflection
This sermon series invites us to explore the call to Christian discipleship and to examine our response. Initiate a conversation about DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) in your faith community facilitated by someone with formal training or resources created by an expert in the field.
Worship Ways Liturgical Resources
![](https://www.ucc.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/Cheryl-A-Lindsay.jpg)
The Rev. Dr. Cheryl A. Lindsay, Minister for Worship and Theology (lindsayc@ucc.org), also serves a local church pastor, public theologian, and worship scholar-practitioner with a particular interest in the proclamation of the word in gathered communities. You’re invited to share your reflections on this text in the comments on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SermonSeeds.
A Bible study version of this reflection is at Weekly Seeds.