Daily Reflection Thursday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time

As we first meet the woman in today's miracle story, she is unnamed but already laden with labels that will both set the stage and then be completely turned upside down after her encounter with Jesus. Our Gospel writer Mark tells us she is 'Greek,' she is 'Syrophoenician', she is 'Gentile.' (In Matthew's telling of the same episode, the adjective is 'Canaanite'.) Labels -- shorthand for all the history of stereotypes and hatred that had marked the boundaries between inside Chosen People and outside Others.  

 

Jesus is brushing against these boundaries as his ministry has taken him to the coastal city of Tyre, the most northern outpost of his travels throughout Galilee. We have little background on why this destination was in Jesus’ GPS, but when he moves we are well advised to take notice. Entering boldly into the private home where Jesus is resting comes this woman with labels ablaze. Tradition would say that she has no claim on Jesus, but she risks the consequences of violating social norms and religious codes to plead for the healing of her daughter.



At first, there is confusion, even rejection. Sharp dialogue, not playful banter. These conversation partners are not even speaking the same language! 'Dogs' -- mongrels roaming in neighborhood packs, or inside-the-house beloved pets? The woman doesn't take offense at what seems to us Jesus' insulting rebuff but clings to her insistence that Jesus is indeed Good News that cannot be contained by any barrier. Her faith has compelled her to move across the confines of old understandings. She is a bearer of truth to Jesus. The Savior of the World blesses her with the restored health of her daughter. We are the blessed beneficiaries of the courage and tenacity of this woman. New labels: 'Woman of Faith;' 'Foremother of the Gentile Church.'



This healing story is all that is recorded for us as an entry in Jesus’ travelogue of a journey of more than one hundred miles. It must represent for the Gospel writers the distillation of a message quite profound. And what might that message be for us? The daily news brings an immediate connection, for we hear in the turmoil of our contemporary political landscape those 'barbed-wire labels' of our own day. ‘Borders,’ ‘Illegal,’ ‘Alien,’ ‘Criminal:’ explosive labels that can block us from seeing the individual human person that God loves impacted by decisions in faraway Washington. (The recent press release announcing the layoff of one half of the staff at Catholic Relief Services whose mission was to cross borders, always ‘charging into the breach to help’ over 200 million people at risk broke my heart.) While we look for ways to make known our concern to our political leaders, we take solace in knowing that nothing can stop us from being kind. There was no boundary to Jesus’ mercy. There is no limit to our kindness, our love. 



Borders can be open… or shut. Perhaps a better metaphor for us might be ‘frontier’ – the frontier a cutting-edge place for moving beyond fear, a place to explore new possibilities and to grow, like Jesus did, in the vision of our calling. May our hearts of compassion be a frontier for God’s grace today.