A text on being “of-fence-ive”

The Rev. George C. Wong Sermon for the 5th of September, 2021 - Mark 7:24-37
‘Good fences make good neighbors.’
 ‘Why do they make good neighbors?
 Isn't it Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
 
“Mending Wall” by Robert Frost.
 
I don’t know where Mr. Sutton, my 7th grade English teacher is today , but I am sure he would be happy that I remembered the Robert Frost poem.
 
The poem came to mind because the notion of fences and boundaries have loomed large in my head of late.
 
This past week, the water that surged across town did not know it had boundaries.
 
The downpour meant that lines we construct were breached in many places, sadly sometimes with disastrous consequences for those who lives on or near these boundaries and borders.
 
Something in nature doesn’t love a wall or a boundary imposed on it.  Nature doesn’t always recognize flood plains or river beds in a way we desire.
Today’s gospel invites us to reflect upon boundaries and borders we impose and put so much faith in.
 
Crossing the border into Gentile territory, Jesus has left for Tyre.  He would not have been particularly welcome there as a poor, itinerant rabbi.  He had crossed the border and was a long way from home.  You could imagine some folks saying: “Son, you aren’t from these parts are you?”
 
 
Jesus encounters a woman from the area who crosses a number of physical, religious and cultural boundaries.  A woman, a gentile and the mother of a daughter believed to be possessed by demons, she had no business speaking to a foreign holy man directly.
 
Both Jesus and the woman are both breaking all the rules and crossing very marked off boundaries of the day.  They met in a sort of no man’s land, where both were out of place by the standards of the day.
The woman begs Jesus to cast out the demons from her daughter.
 
Jesus curtly, perhaps even rudely, refuses by telling her that it is not fair to take food meant for children and to waste it on someone like her daughter.
 
But the woman did not hesitate to push the envelope further. She responds sharply to Jesus that even dogs gather up the crumbs from under the table.
 
Many of you know that this passage is the basis of the Prayer for Humble access.
 
I know some cringe at the prayer.  Some say it paints humanity as unworthy, no better than dogs.  But I believe the reservations about the prayer are based on a misconception about the intent and meaning of the original passage.
 
In the gospel text, Jesus engages in this exchange and initially challenges her worthiness in order to allow the woman to make her claim as one who is worthy.
 
And Jesus also wanted to make a point to everyone else who judged the woman and others hewing to the conventional wisdom who would have judged many as having little worth—the poor, the sick, the foreign, the widow, and those of dubious lineage.
 
The woman stood up for herself and her daughter.   She drew up her courage and dared to contend with God.
 
Her actions spoke of her both her courage and humility because she knows she and her daughter deserve help and she knows that she needs help from God.  Reversing his initial course, Jesus applauds her faith and heals the daughter.
 
In this light, we might read the Prayer of Humble access in a completely different, more hopeful way, which is to say that we can come to the table, that is to God, with all our flaws and hurts AND claim our space there with confidence.  We seek out Jesus with humility knowing we are in need of God in our lives; and as people who are worthy of God’s care.
 
God constructs no walls between the divine and his people regardless of gender, race, wealth, physical and mental disabilities.
 
If God has not devised such walls. Then are we being faithful when we construct walls to hold out others, to separate us from those we deem less worthy or unworthy.  You might read the passage from James if you want more on the consequences of doing so.
 
Sometimes our own brush with challenges softens our heart and increases our awareness of how foolish and prideful it is to elevate ourselves above others and how dangerous it is to judge harshly.  I had an encounter many years ago, which made a lasting impression me.
 
I worked at a litigation consulting firm part time while in graduate school.
 
There was an invisible but nonetheless real line between two groups at this firm.  The professionals were upstairs while the hourly legal data processors were downstairs. I met Irv at the food truck, a.k.a. affectionately as the roach coach. The truck was a kind of neutral zone where the professionals and the coders mostly ignored each other but sometimes mingled.  I didn’t know any better so I starting talking to Irv, a data entry clerk.
 
Irv was well spoken and dressed professionally as if he was going to a board meeting. Long story short, Irv told me that he had been diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease years ago.  He was hospitalized and needed very costly treatment.  He ended losing his job. His wife left. His savings gone, his large suburban home was foreclosed on.
 
He told me that for years he lived and slept under the freeway overpass not too far from the office.  For those of you not familiar with LA freeways, they are often elevated and have ramps under which people sometimes find shelter.  In such a space, he lived day by day out of a shopping cart and a cardboard house.
 
Somehow after many years, he connected with my boss and was hired as a data entry clerk. The job didn’t pay that well, but he had a small apartment and was rebuilding his life bit by bit.
 
To my surprise, he was not bitter and he also admitted that he wasn’t always his best self during those years.  He said he didn’t always exhibit the clearest or best judgment as his former life crumbled before his eyes.
 
What I remember most is that he said he always felt like the same person and tried to maintain his dignity, even at his lowest point.  He did not say but, sadly,  I am sure that others did not treat him so kindly.  As far as society was concerned, Irv ceased to exist in those margins, the hinterlands.  His experience, changed the way he viewed others—he was much less prone to judge others so quickly and easily.
 
In today’s gospel, Jesus is crystal clear about his feeling about the walls we construct to hide and separate people from ourselves, to denigrate people and to make ourselves feel safe or superior, which goes against the grain of the gospel and on top is not effective or viable anyway.
 
I think Jesus would say that Robert Frost was spot on:
 
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.