It’s interesting, looking at our readings today, that on the one hand James makes a point of counselling against members of the Church discriminating against one kind of person and another, while in our reading from Mark’s Gospel we find Jesus seeming to do exactly that, in not only refusing to hear the pleas of the Syrophoenician woman but also effectively calling her a dog.
Some people think that Jesus really did believe at that point that his mission was to his own people the Jews alone, and that the simple and profound faith of the woman changed his mind, opened his eyes. Others see Jesus is playing a part, doing and saying what those around him would have expected from a rabbi, while at the same time provoking a response of faith from the woman. That’s the reading I prefer, but the facts are simple and straightforward however you interpret them - Jesus turns the woman away, or seeks to; she refuses to be so turned, and in so doing she reveals a depth of faith that was inspirational in itself. Her daughter was healed, and healed because of the faith she showed.
Let me look at three things a little more closely. Firstly, the faith of the woman: she was not a Jew, and there’s nothing particular here to suggest she was even on the fringes, as some were, of the Jewish faith. This was a part of the land where Jews lived side by side with a majority gentile, or non-Jewish population. The Jews of that region were themselves rather looked down on by their compatriots in more homogenous areas like Judaea. Her faith was simple, profound, direct: and it was first and foremost formed from her devotion to her sick daughter, and her determination to do whatever she could to save her; added to that was an equal determination that if this man could help, if he had the power to help, her status as Jew or gentile should have no bearing on it. The dogs get their share of the family meal: God’s grace is not so limited that those on the outside can’t share in it.
Her answer was clever, but it was also challenging. Why should someone in need be ignored just because they don’t look like me, or don’t worship with me, or don’t speak the same language as me? Every person is made in the image of God; rich or poor, gentile of Jew, we share a common humanity. If God were to ignore that and be partial, he would be less than himself.
So secondly, our faith, and where it leads us. Paul makes great play of telling his readers that we are saved by grace and not by works. Charles Wesley’s great moment of conversion came about as the result of his coming to realise that his attempts to be good enough to please God were doomed to failure. We don’t need to be good enough, there is no points tally that qualifies us for admission to heaven. The Church is not a community of the perfect, but a school for sinners.
But the Epistle of James is a necessary antidote to that, or should I say, to a distorted understanding of what Paul says. Paul himself of course took issue with those who thought that being saved by grace meant that for us “anything goes”. That’s a heresy that does rear its head again and again in Christian history, and among some of the cults that distort the faith today - that within the community of those who are saved and therefore made perfect, anything is permissible.
Not so, says James. We may be saved by our faith and by God’s grace, rather than by the works we do, but any faith that does not lead to good works and does not reveal itself in good works is not real faith. Having just taken over as minister of a group of six churches, I am challenging all my churches to find one new way in which they can serve and be useful to the community in which they are set.
It’s good that we should be disturbed by the bad things that happen to those around us, our neighbour who is hungry, or living in poverty, or ill, or afraid, or lonely, or struggling with life in whatever way. It’s good that we pray for them.
But it isn’t good if we then sit back and do nothing other than hope that something good will come their way, or that maybe someone else somewhere will help them. We have to act on our faith and on our awareness of their need, or else that faith isn’t real. Our call is the imitation of Christ - to be as like him as we can be. Teresa of Avila famously said “Christ has no body on earth but yours - yours are the hands with which he is to bless.” The healings in that reading from Mark show how Jesus responded to need. I love the practical details in the story of the healing of a deaf man; we need to be practical too, in our response to our neighbour’s need, and in our understanding of who our neighbour actually is.
The third thing to mention is the response of Jesus to our faith. Whether he deliberately provoked her statement or not, the response of Jesus to the faith of the Syrophoenician woman was direct and complete; and she arrived home to find her daughter well. Jesus meets our faith with his, and when we commit ourselves to work for him - or I should better say to work with him - he will support and enable that work. “The Spirit of truth lead you into all truth, give you grace to confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, and to proclaim the word and works of God,” in the words of a prayer of blessing at Pentecost.
Ruth and Tom are neighbours of mine who, having been members of the Baptist Church have started what they call the family church in the town, joined by quite a number of other parents with young children. The other day Ruth was telling me that they’re running out of space in the hall they presently rent, and are looking for somewhere larger. “We think we’ve found somewhere,” she told me, “but we need to be sure it is what God wants for us.” I can understand that. We of all people should not rush hastily into doing things and deciding things when we haven’t spent time in prayer, for we do need to be sure that his will is at the heart of our deciding.
But nor should we ever allow that to become an excuse for inaction or for half-heartedness. The short cut to action is - as James tells us - the commandments, or in fact the summary of the Law. It’s clear that loving God is worked out in loving our neighbour; loving our neighbour as ourself. And what makes someone our neighbour? Not geographical proximity, not fellow feeling, not the fact that they dress or pray or vote the same way as us. What makes someone our neighbour is that they need our help, and we have the capacity to give it. My neighbour in this definition is the person in my power, by whatever tiny amount, because I can choose whether or not to respond to my neighbour’s need. And their welfare is influenced and affected by the choice I make.
When Jesus was asked, “Who is my neighbour?” he responded by telling a story, which I don’t need to tell today, because you all know the story of the Good Samaritan. But I will end with the words Jesus ended with: “Go, and do likewise.” Amen.
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