"Outward Bound"
 
"Travel through the back door." This is the invitation of Rick Steves, a well-known travel writer and producer of PBS travelogues, to travel more thoughtfully, to risk becoming 'temporary locals' in seeking out the pleasures and insights, the joys of conversation and discovery, in the small villages and neighborhood restaurants and watering holes far from popular tourist routes. (Was Pope Francis channeling his inner Rick Steves when he encouraged us in Fratelli Tutti to engage in the culture of encounter?!!)
 
In today's Gospel from Mark, Jesus has a back door encounter of his own. Traveling in the borderlands, the geographic frontier of his ministry and the northernmost point of his journey of discipleship, he is far from the comforts of Bethany, Nazareth, and Capernaum. (This is the only incident recorded by the Gospel writers in what would be a 100 mile trek by foot.) We can only imagine Jesus' surprise when it is a woman who dares interrupt his solitude, who engages him in some education on local norms and customs -- Gentiles, unlike the Jewish people, loved their house-pet dogs and kept them close -- and who in persistency and praise addresses him as 'Lord.' Who would have thought it possible? But, risking deep listening, Jesus is now open to a new vision of his identity as Beloved. He who in so many of his parables encouraged others to shed old prejudices and circumscribed world views changes his mind. The Syrophoenician woman is already 'in the house.' Healing and mercy are allowed to flow, and her daughter is set free from her infirmity.
 
Questions for pondering and prayer as we marvel at this expression of Jesus' humanity: Where are the borderlands in our own ongoing maturing in the life of faith? Where is the growing edge of our identity as Beloved? What do we know now in a deeper way than we knew before?..... How easy it is to stick close to home. How tempting it is to 'nest,' to avoid confronting the pride, smugness, judgement, and narrowness of heart that can be lurking there. What will we be willing to risk on our outward-bound journey?
 
Today is also the Memorial of Saint Scholastica, the twin sister of St. Benedict, founder of Western monasticism. The story of what would be the last encounter of the two siblings is well known: Benedict, citing the undeviating rules of his monastery, insisting that he must leave their meeting before dusk; Scholastica receiving an answer to her prayer in the surprising packaging of a violent thunderstorm that made his return impossible. Rules, impossible to violate, are overcome by love. What border will love compel us to cross today? Let's keep out our passports.