sermons — Page 35 — Andy James

An Eternity of Difference

October 14, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on Mark 10:17-31
preached on October 14, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

Growing up in Mississippi, even as a Presbyterian, I heard more than my fair share of “altar calls.” For those who are not familiar with this tradition, an altar call is a moment in a worship service, brief talk, or even at a concert when the speaker invites the audience to make a commitment to Jesus, usually with a time of prayer where the leader guides those who wish to participate to offer a prayer in their hearts to admit their sins and commit themselves to Christ. Now let me be clear: there is absolutely a time and a place for these sorts of moments where we commit or recommit our lives to the journey of faith— our Presbyterian Book of Order even has a special section in its instructions for worship that outlines the purpose and structure of these services! But too often these altar calls made the Christian life seem so simple and easy. As a child, it seemed to me that all that was really required to be faithful was praying this brief prayer just once. After someone prayed it, God would almost magically rescue the pray-er from eternal damnation. You could go forward—the “altar” part of this “altar call”—but that was optional, really. The rest of the Christian life seemed to just happen and flow from that moment of decision, and all the specifics of what needed to follow did not really need to factor into that decision. I suspect that my memories now of those moments then are colored much by what I have experienced and learned and discovered about my faith in the years since, but as an impressionable boy, all I saw demanded of me in those moments was a brief moment of prayer to make an eternity of difference.

Our story from Mark’s gospel this morning paints a far more demanding picture of the Christian life. Another impressionable man approaches Jesus with a very specific question:

Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?

Jesus doesn’t give him a prayer to pray but instead asks him about his obedience to the commandments.

Have you loved your parents?
Have you treated everyone fairly?
Have you borne false witness?

The man responds well:

Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.

Then Jesus looked him over, through and through, and spoke to him with the deepest honesty and love:

You lack one thing: go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.

Jesus could tell from his dress, his presence, maybe even his speech that this man was not in need of anything, yet he lacked something far greater than a simple prayer or even more complete obedience to the commandments could offer. To make room for what he really wanted in the midst of all the other things of his life, this man had to give up everything that he had. In order to take up a new and different way of life, this rich man had to stop pretending that he could take care of himself and instead focus on taking care of others. To make an eternity of difference, this man had to radically change the course of his life in such a way that would not only deepen the lives of others but more importantly open him to a deeper and fuller trust in God that would come only when he gave up all hopes of saving himself by any action of his own. The man didn’t seem to like Jesus’ words—who would? Who welcomes being told that they need to give up everything that they have worked so hard for in order to get something that really mattered to them? So Mark tells us that he went away grieving.

After the rich man left, Jesus told his disciples that this challenge is the norm for those who are wealthy.

It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.

They were so deeply confused. “Then who can be saved?” they asked. His answer was simple:

For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.

If it wasn’t clear to the disciples by now, Jesus made it clear yet again that following him is not easy. Shortcuts just aren’t gonna cut it. Following Jesus means going all in, offering more than just a little prayer but in fact everything that we have, giving from our great abundance to care for others and to make us more ready to receive the gift that God is offering. There’s no way to argue your way out of this one with Jesus, and the rich man knew it and didn’t even try. Jesus isn’t going to tell us that we aren’t really rich enough to give up everything—he simply reminds us that until we are poor enough to depend only on God, we are still very rich. Jesus isn’t going to say that we can go and make a nice nest egg for ourselves and then start taking care of the poor—he demands that we change our ways now, once and for all. Jesus doesn’t accept our excuses for why we can’t follow him with all our hearts, all our minds, all our strength, and even all our money—he simply reminds us that all things are possible with God, and that our trust and hope should be nowhere else and in no one else other than God, for that is the only way to make an eternity of difference.

This text hits a bit close to home sometimes. As you might know, we as a congregation have come into a bit of cash lately! In selling the manse just some ten days ago, we cashed in an asset that had provided a home for our pastors for about fifteen years in hopes that it would now provide us with a cash reserve to support the ministry of a full-time pastor in this congregation for many years to come. This cash infusion certainly does not make us rich by any standard of this world, and the reality is that we have simply received cash for something that has been ours for a long time. But I wonder how Jesus would respond to us in our thinking about this wealth that is now ours in a new way. The $420,000 or so that we will have remaining after our bills are settled, transitional expenses paid, and obligations met is no small sum for us as a congregation—we could cover our entire budget with no other income for about three years! Comparatively, is it as much as the rich man had? Probably not—but I still think Jesus would challenge us to consider it as great wealth that can get in the way of our trust in God.

I don’t know if Jesus would call us to give it all away right away as he suggested the rich man do, but in light of this story, I must wonder if we are doing the right thing by simply trying to keep up what we’ve been doing and hoping that it might one day bring us the new life we desire. Is our call to discipleship really to preserve the life we have together in this place as long as possible? Does Jesus tell us that we should keep doing everything we’ve always been doing and receive the kind of life we long for? Or does Jesus demand more of us than we are willing to give and challenge us to give up everything that we hold dear so that we can have more than we ever imagined as we look to God alone to give us life?

These words are not easy to proclaim or to hear. As I consider these words for us together, I cannot miss that even my own way of life is challenged by Jesus here. It is tough enough to be good stewards of the wealth that is ours, but then Jesus comes along and demands that we give it all up so that our trust can be in God alone. It is not as easy to follow Jesus as it seemed to be when I first heard those altar calls as a boy. It takes more than praying a little prayer to make Jesus’ way of life our own. It takes more than showing up to a little building with a few other people for an hour on Sunday to be faithful followers of Christ. It takes more than giving up a few pennies a day to make an eternity of difference. Indeed, those who follow Jesus give up everything and so gain everything, by putting our trust not in ourselves or our own abilities but in God alone to transform our world and make us and all things new.

So may the Spirit strengthen us for this way of life in this time and place, to give up what we must so that we can follow Jesus in all that we say and do and to trust that the God who creates us has redeemed us and will sustain us forever as we seek to make an eternity of difference. May it be so for us, now and always. Amen.

Justice and Peace for All

October 7, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23 for World Communion Sunday
preached on October 7, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

Back when I was in college, I was attending a conference when a minister I knew pulled me aside. We had met in person earlier in the week, but we also knew each other from online conversations. I had been working on the website for the conference, and she was wondering if I might help with the website for another conference that she was helping to organize. Rather than just signing me up to work, she invited me to be on the conference planning team, working with a bunch of far more experienced people to plan an event in an area where I had little or no experience. Still, she felt like the conference would benefit from my presence and work by taking a different approach to promotion. We would have a vibrant website well in advance of the conference that would not only tell people about how to register and attend but would also be updated in real time during the event so that people could follow along rather than just waiting until it was all over to read an article about it. So that’s how I came to be a part of the planning teams for the 2000 and 2001 Presbyterian Peacemaking Conferences and had my first exposure to the work of peacemaking in the church.

Those experiences were formative for me. Through the planning process and the event, I met several of the people I now consider mentors and friends in ministry, including two colleagues who later became moderator and vice-moderator of the General Assembly, several of my colleagues here in New York City Presbytery, including Krystin Granberg, our guest preacher last week, and several others who are nothing short of legendary in many circles in the Presbyterian church. The people were great, but we had some fun times together as well, beginning with a memorable afternoon in a 15-passenger van circling the LAX airport to pick up members of the planning team and continuing through three years of work together to pull off two years of Peacemaking conferences.

But the most memorable and most important part of that formative time for me was learning more about what it means to be a peacemaker in the church. As I, a college student from a pretty conservative background in Mississippi, sat with these women and men who had marched for civil rights and campaigned against the Vietnam War, among other things, I learned so much about our call to be peacemakers. Every year on World Communion Sunday, the first Sunday in October, I think about these experiences, for this is the day when we collect the Peacemaking Offering to continue this work that I was a part of and the time when we celebrate and reaffirm our call to be peacemakers in the world.

The most difficult lesson of those days for me was one that I hear repeated in our reading from Proverbs this morning: there can be no peace without justice. These words from Proverbs talk about the responsibility of those who have—the “rich”—toward those who do not have—the “poor,” and ultimately that responsibility shows us that justice is required for there to be peace in our world. The first saying here calls us to take a first step in this direction:

A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold.

Money and power and wealth don’t matter as much as doing what is right, whether you are rich or poor, because in the end, God makes everyone and everything and will call everyone to account for their use of what has been given to them. But the second saying here makes the link between justice and peace very clear:

Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity.

Where there is injustice, there will be strife and pain and sorrow, and justice is required to set things right and make the way clear for peace. The proverb continues by reminding us what is required of us to make justice real:

Those who are generous are blessed, for they share their bread with the poor.

The way of peace does not come from others taking care of those in need, but instead it requires that we reach out to those who have been left behind by the ways of the world, whether they live around the corner or around the world. The third saying, then, pulls all this together into the great challenge for us:

Do not rob the poor because they are poor or crush the afflicted at the gate;
for the LORD pleads their cause and despoils the life of those who despoil them.

We are certainly not to take advantage of anyone, but here God goes beyond this to challenge us to join in God’s preferential treatment of those who are in greatest need, for God does not help those who help themselves but rather shows favor to those who have no way out other than God.

So on this Sunday when we remember our call to be peacemakers and gather around this table to remember how we share this feast with Christians all around the world, these warnings seem to be a good reminder to us that the way of peace requires us to work and act for justice in the world. This table of celebration is an empty promise for our sisters and brothers who long for something more if we are not working and acting and speaking up on their behalf, standing up for their humanity and insisting that all people are not only welcome at the table but should enjoy the fullness of life that is ours. Our prayers for peace in the world are empty if they are not accompanied by real and concrete action, not by putting the preferences of one nation or people above another, but by calling for justice to prevail for all so that peace can flourish. And even our action for justice is incomplete if our attempts to ease the immediate pain of our sisters and brothers in need are not accompanied by faithful challenges to the systems that allow injustice to prevail.

In 1984 and 1985, a terrible famine in Ethiopia brought a worldwide response, highlighted most by the prominent song “We Are the World” that brought together a number of famous artists to sing one song. While there was a tremendous outpouring of food aid and immediate support, those same areas in Africa have been faced with similar crises several times since because all we really offered in that moment was a band-aid rather than actually addressing the problematic systems that perpetuate violence, hunger, and injustice. A real and true response to injustice does not just fill in the temporary gap but steps up to demand change in the system so that justice might be made real and peace might take hold.

So on this day when we remember our connection to our sisters and brothers in faith around the world and offer extra gifts to support the work of peacemaking in our world and in our own backyard, may we remember God’s call to be peacemakers, not just papering over conflict or pretending that it doesn’t exist but confronting it honestly and recognizing what really separates us from God and one another, not just offering a tiny band-aid to cover up the gaping wounds of our world but working to join in God’s work of pouring out justice like mighty waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream, and not just trying to bring about peace for ourselves and in ourselves but stepping up to seek and offer peace to our community, our city, our nation, and our world so that all might be made whole and complete.

So may God strengthen us for this work of peace and justice each and every day until God’s new way of peace, justice, love, and freedom is real for every human being and for all creation through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Capable Wife and Strong Woman

September 23, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on Proverbs 31:10-31 for the 25th Sunday of Ordinary Time
preached on September 23, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

I suspect you might call it a unique occupational hazard: anytime I walk into a church service, whether it be for Sunday morning worship or for a special occasion like a wedding or a funeral, I immediately spend a few minutes analyzing the bulletin. This summer I did this a lot—during my sabbatical, I managed to make it to some sort of worship service every Sunday except for one! I read through the bulletin partly for practical reasons: I like to know what is ahead in the service and what to expect in this different context, because I feel more free to worship when I know what is coming up. But part of this could also be called “morbid curiosity.” What hymns have been chosen for the day? How are they related to the scripture reading? What are the scripture readings? Is the pastor following the lectionary? Will the pastor confront a difficult text, or will she stick to the easy way out?

Now whenever I walk into a wedding and see Proverbs 31, our text for this morning, listed as the text for the day, I start to get a bit worried. I begin by wondering who picked the text, the pastor or the couple. But then I start to ponder what the pastor might say or do with these words. Is he—and it is almost always a he when this text shows up at a wedding!—going to use this text to encourage the couple to embrace traditional gender roles in the marriage? Is he going to tell the woman that she needs to pay very close attention to these words as they begin life together? Or is he going to congratulate the man on choosing a woman who is so perfect in this regard because she can cook, clean, and sew as the Bible intends?

This may seem a bit unlikely, but trust me, all of this—and far worse!—has happened! Some readers of this passage suggest that it simply promotes a return to days of old, with women remaining at home to sew and knit, then take their wares to town to sell, among other practices. One Presbyterian minister, Matthew Henry, suggested in the eighteenth century,

This is the description of a virtuous woman of those days, but the general outlines equally suit every age and nation….
This description let all women daily study, who desire to be truly beloved and respected, useful and honourable.

But even more recently, a commentator suggests that a virtuous woman says to her husband through her actions,

Dear, I’m going to town but I don’t need any money because I’m taking some of the fine linen which I have made and will trade it in for some items of food which you will really enjoy.

Is the point of the Bible really to talk about how a woman is to please her husband with little or no regard for how he should treat her? I for one surely hope not!

When we who tend to think a bit differently about these things come upon a text like this, we so often prefer just to leave it alone. We pass off interpretation of these texts to these sorts of readers who promote what at best can be considered an old-fashioned perspective and at worst is an encouragement for women to be seen as second-class human beings entitled to far less than men. However, I think we sometimes need to confront these sorts of bad interpretations head-on and offer something else. We could spend hours dismantling the cultural gender stereotypes and historical concerns that are a part of so many readings of this text, but today I want to lift up three things that can help us see these words differently.

First, the opening line: “A capable wife,” our translation reads—but is that really the best translation? It’s a nice parallel with the husband in the next verse, but an equally good translation of the original Hebrew can be a “strong woman,” a “woman of worth,” a “warriorlike woman.” (Kathleen O’Connor, “Exegetical Perspective on Proverbs 31:10-31,” Feasting on the Word Year B Volume 4, 75) This strong, worthy, warriorlike woman is quite likely—but not necessarily—a capable wife, and she certainly does not exist solely to serve her husband’s every need, whim, and desire.

Once we start to see this “capable wife” a little more clearly as the “strong woman” that she is, we need to step back and put this text in its broader context. So the second thing we must recognize is that Proverbs 31 does not stand on its own—it serves as the conclusion of a book of wisdom sayings. Several times earlier in the book, Wisdom itself has been portrayed as a woman, and in the broader context of the book, it makes as much sense as anything that this concluding poem simply lifts up this woman Wisdom once again, pointing us to the way of life that emerges from the guidance of Wisdom. The poet is clearly out to make a poetic, not overly realistic, statement here—in the Hebrew, these twenty-two verses form an acrostic poem, with each line beginning with the next consecutive letter of the alphabet. The resulting poetry, then, seems to suggest a lot less about the behavior of a wife standing subordinate to her husband and fulfilling his every whim and desire and a lot more about the benefits for anyone who lives in the way of wisdom—anyone who makes a lifelong, “full-fledged commitment akin to the decision to choose a partner for life.” (O’Connor, 77) What a fitting conclusion to a book that has lifted up the ways of Wisdom from its very beginning—and what a wonderful change it is for even this ancient text to suggest that the model for this kind of Wisdom might actually be a woman!

Finally, this poem can serve as helpful instruction against the kind of attitudes that pervade those old-fashioned interpretations of this text that I read earlier. It can remind us of the countless faithful women who are lifted up throughout the Bible, like those we sang about in our last hymn, who stand with the strong woman Wisdom of Proverbs as examples of the kind of life all of us, male and female, are called and invited to live.

These women are far more than capable wives. They are brave in the face of violence that threatens them, their families, and their communities. They take decisive and hopeful action when there seems to be no way out. They stand up to bigoted men and oppressive systems—anyone who suggests that they are anything less than human. They show the kind of hospitality needed to make space for new and different things to take hold. And they share the kinds of good news that come from an empty tomb, even when no one else dares to speak up.

While there remain plenty of less-than favorable words about women in the Bible, these faithful women, marked especially by the strong woman Wisdom of Proverbs, open the way to a different way of thinking about women in the life of the church and our world, not living as second-class citizens or left only to be “capable wives” but rather to be welcomed as full embodiments of God’s justice, love, and grace for all humanity and full bearers of God’s image in their own lives each and every day. Those places in the Bible and in history where we see something different are quite likely to be reflections of the culture of the time rather than of God’s way of life with humanity, and we should be proud to keep working toward fully embodying the call of the apostle Paul:

There is no longer Jew or Greek,
there is no longer slave or free,
there is no longer male and female;
for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.

So may all of us, men and women alike, be like the capable wife and strong woman of Proverbs, enjoying the benefits of Wisdom in our lives and our world:

living in trustworthiness and hope,
doing good and not harm each and every day,
working fairly and productively for justice and peace for all creation,
making good investments of our time, talent, and labor,
strengthening ourselves for the sake of others,
keeping our lamps burning for safety through the night,
offering a hand to all who are in need so that all might be safe and fulfilled,
being a productive partner in life and work,
speaking wisdom and kindness in all our words,
and living in the happiness of God each and every day.

So may the Wisdom of God come to dwell more fully in us each and every day until she comes to dwell with us forever. Amen.

Wisdom for Our World

September 16, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on Proverbs 1:20-33 for the 24th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year B
preached on September 16, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

We know more about our world today than ever before. Scientists are discovering things about our universe that seemed unimaginable even a hundred years ago. The giant retailer Wal-Mart handles more than 1 million transactions every hour, and the resulting databases contain 167 times more information than the Library of Congress. In 2010, The Economist magazine reported that Google processed as much information in five hours as the US Postal Service handles in a year’s worth of letters, and I suspect that the information available on the Internet has only grown larger since then. With the right equipment and a bit of expertise, we can turn to a computer or smartphone and get an almost immediate answer to nearly any question. Knowledge is everywhere and more accessible than ever before—and as the old saying goes, knowledge is power.

Yet something seems a bit strange these days. While we know more than we have ever known before, our ability and capacity to process that information hasn’t changed quite so fast. So I think there is some sort of distinction between knowledge and wisdom, maybe that knowledge is all the “stuff” we know, and wisdom is how we sort out all that information to make our world a better and more faithful place. So in this day and age, when we have more knowledge than ever before, we don’t necessarily have any more wisdom than we did, partly just because we are reasonably struggling with how to process all this information but also because we ignore the incredible gift of wisdom that we need to understand it all.

Our reading from Proverbs this morning offers us a powerful description of this wisdom and challenges us to seek it in new and varied ways amidst all the knowledge of our world. Here, Wisdom is not just a tangible thing but a person, depicted as a woman who can cry out on the street and raise her voice in the square. Wisdom doesn’t just speak in the quiet corners of the believer’s heart or even in the beautiful sanctuary of the faithful, but she offers her challenge to the world at the busiest corner and at the entrance of the city so that everyone can hear her. Her words call out to everyone:

How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple?
How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge?

Wisdom demands to be heard. She alone can guide us through the challenges of sorting through our extensive knowledge amidst our quickly-changing world. She alone can offer us thoughts and words and actions that bring us transformation and possibility and hope.

Yet too often, Wisdom says, people have ignored her call to a different way. She has cried out, and so many have refused. She has offered a hand, and no one reached out. She has spoken generous advice and counsel, but it has been ignored. Instead, people have trusted themselves and missed the opportunities and possibilities that she offers.

Since people have stopped listening, Wisdom has nothing to do but simply sit back and wait and watch.

I will laugh at your calamity;
I will mock when panic strikes you…
They will call upon me, but I will not answer;
they will seek me diligently, but will not find me.

She hasn’t really turned against anyone but now simply leaves us to our own devices and lets us face the consequences of our actions instead of continuing the seemingly impossible battle to bring us back around.

These words from Proverbs are a stinging indictment of those who ignore Wisdom in all its forms, but we’re in church, so they surely don’t apply to us, right? Well, I’m not so sure. Amidst all the knowledge of our days, we so often think that we can sort out the best option for ourselves, without listening to the guidance of anyone or anything else. This is the core of the challenge Wisdom offers us here: she cries out in the streets, in the squares, at the busiest corner, at the city gate so that we might not just listen to ourselves but live in a different way and follow in a new path, recognizing that we don’t know everything and can’t figure it all out on our own. She longs for us to might make our relationships right and order our priorities as God intends. Her words set the tone for all that follows in the book of Proverbs—even the most quotable words offered here should impart this kind of knowledge and hope. She challenges us not to use our knowledge in the service of power but rather in the service of God and neighbor (Kenneth H. Carter, Jr., “Pastoral Perspective on Proverbs 1:20-33,” Feasting on the Word, Year B Volume 4).

Wisdom is less concerned about what we say than about how we live. She seems to care less about our words that directly acknowledge God and more about how we use the many gifts that God has given us. She cares less about the particulars of religious practice and more about how we relate to God and creation. She calls for “the fear of the Lord,” not because we should shake in our boots out of worry about what God might do to us but so that we can offer righteous living that shows awe, respect, and obedience. As commentator Kathleen O’Connor puts it,

People who fear the Lord have their feet planted on the ground, see around them truthfully, and live in harmony with God and world. (“Exegetical Perspective on Proverbs 1:20-33,” Feasting on the Word, Year B Volume 4)

And most of all, amidst this “fear of the Lord,” Wisdom says that we don’t—and can’t!—have all the answers! She says that we don’t need answers to the questions of life so much as we need guidance to find and live in this new way, and so she promises us exactly that if we will just listen to her.

So how can we follow in this way of Wisdom? How do we respond to her cries to listen and act? What might this new way look like in our world of information overload, where we so often struggle to make sense of even the most basic things as they become more complicated and wonder how we are to respond in the face of such changing ways?

First, I think we must listen for the guidance of Wisdom amidst all the words of our world. Sometimes Wisdom speaks loud and clear, making it impossible to miss where we should or should not go. But just as often, we are pulled in many different directions, and the best option is not so obvious. And so Wisdom demands that we listen for God’s voice amidst the din of the world, in the words of scripture, in the voices of others who walk this path of wisdom with us, even in the still, small voice of something new rising up with each one of us.

But Wisdom also demands that we not just leave things there. She says that we have to make that new way of life real and clear and here and now. She calls us to participate in her ways of listening and living that affirm anyone who will step up and join in. And so she calls us to set aside the power and comfort that we find in knowledge and instead trust in the confident gift of a new way of life from God. With this, she offers us the gifts of true security, trust, and freedom from fear. When we listen to and make Wisdom’s way of life real in our lives, the relationship that emerges opens us to a pathway of grace and hope. As Kathleen O’Connor puts it:

She will not merely lead [us], but will live with [us], reveal her thoughts to [us], be in kinship with [us]. She will accompany [us] and keep [us] secure.

And so Wisdom challenges us to walk in this new way and to trust in this new path, not by trusting ourselves or the knowledge that we can accumulate in this world but rather by trusting God and the possibilities of all that God gives us so that we can set aside all our fears and embrace our wildest dreams as we join in God’s work of making all things new.

Friends, may the Wisdom of God be real among us and show us the way to new life, now and always. Amen.

Doing What Jesus Did

September 9, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on Mark 7:24-37 for the 23rd Sunday of Ordinary Time
preached on September 9, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

In high school, many of my friends and classmates started wearing bracelets with four simple letters: WWJD. “What would Jesus do?” It was a pretty simple concept, an attempt to remind the wearer and anyone else who saw it that the difficult decisions in life could be addressed with this seemingly simple question and that the best response to any situation would just be to do what Jesus would do.

This is a great concept – and then comes today’s text. When I read this, I think this may be one of those rare moments when I think we ought to do what Jesus would do rather than what Jesus actually did! Now don’t get me wrong: Jesus started out actually trying to do something really smart here – he was trying to get away and rest and reconnect, and I can say from personal experience that that is a really wonderful and good thing to do sometimes. Jesus knew that he needed some time away from the pressures and stresses of his ministry in Galilee, time away from the draining work of teaching and healing that had occupied him for a year or more at this point, time apart from the difficult challenges of this work that his family just didn’t understand and his disciples kept misunderstanding. I can’t criticize Jesus’ time away one bit – my own sabbatical over the last two months was a very similar and very necessary moment for me, a time to step away from the stresses of this ministry and to recenter and reconnect with why I do what I do – so maybe we should do as he did and try to get away sometimes.

But then Mark tells us that Jesus “could not escape notice.” Word had spread about him well beyond his hometown, and even in a non-Jewish region people were seeking him out for his wise words and healing touch. One particularly persistent woman approached Jesus while he was trying to rest and get away and begged him to heal her daughter of an unclean spirit. This woman had little or no connection to Jesus or Judaism – Mark tells us that she was a Gentile of Syrophoenician origin, and I suspect she approached Jesus because she had heard of his healing powers that probably seemed more magical to her than anything else. I doubt that she came to him because she was convinced of his relationship to God or had been moved by his teaching. Whatever her reasons for seeking him out, Jesus was not happy to be bothered by her. He was trying to get away from the pressures of his healing ministry and rest and relax a bit, and the last thing he needed on his too-brief sabbatical was another controversy with the Jewish authorities brought on by an interaction with an impure Gentile woman.

So Jesus tried to get rid of her with some pretty strong words: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” This does not seem like the same Jesus that we think we know, the Jesus we see pictured in our stained glass back here, the good shepherd who loves children and invites them to come to him, the gentle savior who offers a quiet and restful place to those who are weary and tired, the light of the world who comes to transform all people. No, Jesus here seems to me at least to be a grumpy and tired man who needed a break from a very demanding call – and who just couldn’t get away from the stress of life no matter how hard he tried.

This sounds very familiar in our world, really. We too can’t disconnect from the stresses of life – we’re tied to our work day and night, with calls and texts and emails dinging constantly, and there are very few places where we can go and not be found by someone who wants our attention for our work or our family or something. An article in the Times last year reflected on this tendency, and one overconnected tech executive noted, “The good news about technology is that you can be anywhere and still work. The bad news is that anywhere you are, you have to work.”

In the midst of this kind of world, I think it is easy to do as Jesus did and snap back at those who call out to us for help when we’re trying to slow down – but even when we need some time to step aside and disengage, there are ways to do it without being mean and angry about it, as I think Jesus was here. So this is that rare moment when I think maybe we shouldn’t try to do as Jesus did!

Instead the real one to emulate here might actually be this Gentile woman, who did not let Jesus’ initial grumpy and insulting remark be the last word but instead showed an incredible and faithful and yet frustrated spark and spunk in interacting with him: “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Jesus was impressed and moved by her persistence and quick response. “For saying that,” he said, “you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” She left, probably a bit puzzled that he could pull all this off without actually seeing her daughter, but she found her child well when she got home, and that’s all she really wanted. After this strange healing, Jesus gave up on his sabbatical and headed back toward Galilee, where he continued his ministry by healing a man who could not hear nor speak by instructing him to be opened – perhaps just as he had been.

These two remarkable healing stories are wonderful statements of the power of Jesus’ ministry here on earth. Nonetheless, I think the most remarkable part of our reading today for us is more this example of what Jesus did when he was interrupted in the midst of his larger purposes. Interruptions are actually pretty common in the gospel of Mark. On several other occasions, Mark tells us about times when Jesus was trying to do something and ended up getting interrupted along the way. He tried to go heal the daughter of a local Jewish leader and got interrupted on the way by an unclean woman who touched his cloak to heal her constant bleeding, and in the end this interruption set up a situation where Jesus raised the little girl from the dead. Jesus was also interrupted one day as he was teaching by a man who was lowered down into the house through a hole in the roof so that Jesus could heal him. These are just two of the more familiar examples, but there are plenty more. On the whole, it is fair to say that a lot of Jesus’ ministry as recounted in Mark happened in the interruptions.

If we can learn anything from Jesus’ actions here, we can learn the importance of responding faithfully in the midst of interruptions. We can avoid graceless, insulting, and angry words like those he offered to the Gentile woman of Syrophoenician origin and instead try to be a little more gentle when we are interrupted. We can also remember that Jesus never ignored someone in need. He always took the time to stop and show them a glimpse of God’s healing mercy and grace, even if he was a little frustrated at first in doing so. And most of all, we can learn from Jesus’ particularly amazing ability to stay focused in the midst of all these distractions. While he certainly paid attention to these who needed his care, he did not let their very real needs distract from his broader ministry and mission.

This seems to be the challenge for us when we get distracted. How do we find this balance that Jesus found so well between paying attention to immediate concerns but also to the transformation of the world that will bring an end to all suffering? How can we be both gentle when we are interrupted and still stay focused on the bigger picture that is before us? And how do we lay the groundwork for a new and different future when we are consumed with much more immediate challenges? I think Jesus offers us a wonderful first step here when he steps away from it all, when he recognizes that he cannot do all that he is called to do without recharging and renewing.

I hope and pray that time away I’ve had on sabbatical over the last two months will be something like this for me and for us – a time for reconnecting and recharging that link with new experiences of amazing places and a good bit of rest to renew me for the service that we share. I also hope and pray that all of us can all find some time and space like this sometime, ways to balance the very real needs of the moment with the call to reflect and stay focused on our bigger call to join in God’s work of making the new creation real in the world here and now.

So may we remember what Jesus did well – and what Jesus could have done better – in his encounter with this woman, so that we might do as he did and find the rest we need along the journey, show the grace we are called to reflect toward others along the way, and stay focused on God’s call to us to join in the incredible work of making the new creation real in this world until Jesus comes to make all things new. Lord, come quickly! Alleluia! Amen.