When Jesus left there, he withdrew to the area of Tyre
and Sidon. Just then a Canaanite woman from that region
came and kept crying out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! My
daughter is severely tormented by a demon.” Jesus did not say a word
to her. His disciples approached him and urged him, “Send her away because
she’s crying out after us.” He
replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But she came, knelt before him, and
said, “Lord, help me!” He answered, “It isn’t right to take the
children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” “Yes, Lord,” she said, “yet even the
dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus replied to her, “Woman,
your faith is great. Let it be done for you as you want.” And from that
moment her daughter was healed. Matthew
15:21-28(CSB)
I know what it’s like to be an outsider, looking in. As a young man I dated a beautiful girl in my
high school class. Her family was of
Italian descent, and it was large. Her
mother was the oldest of 13 children!
THIRTEEN! My family was miniscule
by comparison. Even I the 1960’s ethnic
lines were important. I later compounded
my crossing of those lines by marrying that beautiful girl…in a Methodist
church! I eventually confirmed every
doubt and fear held by her family that an outsider had stolen an Italian
princess by moving our little “mixed” family a thousand miles away to the
strange land of rural Florida, and joining a Baptist Church…light years removed
from the religious tradition of my bride’s heritage, which was connected to the
Vatican in Rome.
I can identify closely with the Gentile woman who approached the Jewish
rabbi, Jesus; it was more than awkward; in Jewish culture it was an affront to
every accepted and deeply held rule of propriety. Likewise, in 1965, New York Italian girls did
not bring non-Italian boys home to meet the family! If they did, there was that risk of being
branded with a Scarlet Letter. (There
was also some not so tongue-in-cheek tales told of non-Italian boys
disappearing…something about trunks of big black cars and cement shoes).
Needless to say, I always felt like something of an oddity on display
at Elizabeth’s family gatherings; kind of Ripley’s Believe-it-or-Not non-Roman freak
show. Elizabeth’s cousins were like
Jesus’ disciples encouraging Him to send the Gentile woman away; she just didn’t
belong!
What is an Outsider to do?
Well, like the woman Matthew (the tax-collecting Jew/outsider extreme)
wrote about this Gentile woman…keep the faith and press-on!
For You Today
So,
are you living the “outsider life”?
Maybe this postscript of my experience with outsider-ship will
help. My move wasn’t just a thousand
miles away, it brought me to a calling, into the pulpit. Twenty years later, as Elizabeth’s mother,
Sofie, lay dying, it was the outsider she called to her bedside. She wanted me to read Scripture to her and
pray for her…and share comforting words of faith and hope.
You
chew on that as you hit the Rocky Road; have a blessed day!
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