Sermon by the Rev. Dr Yazid Said

Many years ago, when I lived and worked at the Anglican Cathedral in Jerusalem, at the end of a long day of work, of too much administrative stuff, the daily celebration of the Eucharist, morning and evening prayer, meeting visitors and looking after guests at the Cathedral Guest House, I went home, kicked off the shoes, prepared a bath, found a glass of Gin and Tonic, switched on the music, in the hope of switching myself off. Unfortunately, my doorbell was ringing as I started to calm down. And so I went to answer the door, not knowing what awaits me. There was a lady standing at the door, and she had come from Bethlehem; she crossed to Jerusalem via side routes for she did not have the right permit that allowed her to cross through the normal checkpoint. She carried Christmas cards made in Bethlehem, and she was hoping to sell them so that she can earn some money for her family. She took the risk of crossing the military checkpoint, and came all the way to me. I stood there and, as priests normally do, said to her: “I cannot take this now; I am tired, and have not the time”. She did not want to leave the door, and kept standing in her place. I was not sure what to do; I was angry with the Gateman who allowed her in, and I wanted to rest, but could not. She stood there and said: “I need you to help me”. In response, I said: “everybody wants me to help them, nobody wants to help me”. She kept standing there. I said to her then: “if I help you, what can you do to help me?” She said: “I will come next time, and bring some woodwork from Bethlehem made by my own family”. I said: “Good, what about a nice wooden cross, which we can use in the Cathedral”. I took the cards, paid her money, and she left. I thought that like most others, she probably will not return.

Two weeks later, she did. She came again, and she brought me a wooden cross, made from the olive wood of Bethlehem. However, the wood was so bloody looking. It had too much red on it. I said: “why is it too bloody looking?” Surely, we cannot use a dirty one in the Church. She said to me in her rather crying face: “I have made something which expresses a little bit of my own pain and of my own suffering. You did not want to help me, but I have done this to try and find consolation, through him who was born in Bethlehem, and was killed in Jerusalem”. I stood listening to her, as if having some moments to reflect on her answer, but the truth of the matter is that I felt so stupid, so foolish. I was too worried about myself. I was too much part of the Church’s anxiety to guarantee our own judgments. I was someone who thought had acquired wisdom in my dealing with things. In the book of Proverbs today we heard that ‘those who are generous are blessed as they share their bread with the poor’. But, there in that encounter with the lady from Bethlehem, I was the poor man with whom she shared the bread of life in God’s freedom and generosity made manifest in his weakness, vulnerability and silence by facing Jesus on the cross.

We need to ask ourselves if things have become far too familiar and whether it is time to listen to strangers. As the second letter to James points in the clearest possible terms, ‘has God not chosen the poor to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom? The challenge for us in such moments is to ask whether we address what is most real and alive in people? Can they recognize that we have truly come to stand for what the Body of Christ is about, or are we like the disciples of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark often missing the point. Sometimes it is said that Christian pastors spend their time constructing perfect answers to questions that nobody is asking! It is hard for us to see that we are in fact poor. This is our loss; for it is those who know their need who can truly know God as an immediate reality – not an idea to study, nor an object somewhere out there. For them, God is life, food for the oppressed and hungry body. And, the ones who know God in that way are the ones who do not try to protect themselves at a safe distance, like I did.

So where does this take us with the Gospel then where we see that Jesus grants the healing to the daughter of the Syro-Phoenician woman with reluctance. The most startling aspect of the story for the modern reader is his answer to the woman’s request: ‘Let the children be fed first; it is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs’, a standard insult against a Gentile woman. Jesus would have read the Hebrew Bible where like in Isaiah 19, we read that there is ultimately hope for the Gentiles, but through the call of Israel. The distinction between Jew and Gentile would have been just as real for him as for others of his day. But, the interesting thing is that the Syro-Phoenician woman recognizes this pattern of salvation herself and points persistently to Jesus as the source of grace. She acknowledges what Jesus tells her; she recognizes whom she is addressing and calls him Lord. Here the point being made is similar to that of the punchline in the healing of the centurion’s servant: ‘Not even in Israel have I found such faith’. The irony is that these Gentiles already show a degree of faith, which proves lacking in Israel itself.

We are often reminded in the Gospel of Mark of these marginal figures who see the point when the disciples don’t see the point. And the people who see the point, the Syro-Phoenician woman, the Blind Bartimaius, and the centurion at the cross, are the people who the disciples don’t expect them to see the point. So here is the other point about today’s Gospel. What we know from the gospel is that when Jesus speaks, people know that they are recognized for what they are and he speaks their language. It doesn’t mean that he didn’t challenge them as he does today. But, he begins by speaking in such a way that we know he understands us from inside. Here is perhaps a clue for us: to engage with those who are different than us, first we need to listen to Jesus and try to recognize how he speaks to our confusions. Then, we listen to others. The Gospel of Mark is bad news for Christian elites. Like Jesus, we need to learn the language of those we meet.

This leads to the second aspect of today’s Gospel. Jesus goes on to do another healing of a deaf mute man and then orders them to tell no one. He often does that in Mark’s Gospel. It’s as if he knows that there were all sorts of healers and wonderworkers in the Jewish and classical cultures. But, he does not want to heighten the sense of drama for it’s not what is most important about him. He knows what is coming and he will tell them in their face about the impending death. He knows all the temptations and troubles his disciples, and we by implication, know. We think that Messiahs are all about this sort of easy fixing of problems. But, this is not what he is there for. In his incarnate life, in his pushing the boundaries as to who belongs and who does not belong to the people of Israel, he exposes himself to the full weight of human violence and rejection, to the cost and the effect of all that is wrong in the world. He takes the consequence of their failure and the risk of living alongside them.

The message for us is clear. Our authority comes not from being at a safe distance but from being there with those who need our ministry. In today’s world, our engagement with other faiths, whether it’s with Jews, Muslims, or others, is best done when it’s done with this Christian generosity and hospitality as well as clear Christian confidence, when faced with questions or challenge that speaks to the heart and needs of others, confidence that reflects our trust in the one who called us to be members of His Body.

When it comes to the Holy Land, what I have said so far suggests that in the Holy Land as elsewhere in the world, there can be no lasting justice without sacrificial and selfless political leadership. We can’t find this at the moment. Those who are called to lead in the Christian community, especially in Jerusalem, will not be in a position to make great political decisions; but they, like all of us, must seek to model a leadership that is self-giving, humble and yet clear and authoritative, rooted in our identification with the people and never looking for private advantage. The clarity of Christian witness against corruption in political leadership can often be the only hope for many; our prayer is that that witness will flourish with the same force and integrity, always underpinned by this personal integrity in Christian leadership, as we seek to show the face of Christ who stands with all and never seeks safety or ease at their expense. God knows, all our churches throughout the world need this witness.

In many ways, so much of the tragedy that surrounds the Holy Land is about stable functional citizenship. What is needed is not only the refusal of violence, important as that maybe, but efforts to create citizenship, especially among the disadvantaged Palestinians. This means a great deal of prosaic and un-dramatic work in building civic institutions, good policing, public services, facilities for business, security for good education and health services. If the two communities of the Holy Land can become truly civil societies in which law and human dignity are truly taken seriously, there is a chance of growth towards a fellowship where God is praised.

So, let us hold firmly before us the vision of the scriptures we have heard this morning, summed up by James’ letter today: ‘My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favouritism believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ?’ We are called to open the door that is Jesus himself into the fullness of life in a world full of selfishness and insensitivity to pain and poverty. We are called to do this, not for some purely humanitarian reason but because of God’s passionate longing for mercy, joy and reconciliation in the world he has made. We are called to follow this imperative by the transformation of our own lives - by recognizing our own humanity and seeking grace every hour of every day; by labouring without interruption to find ways of speaking to the depths and the true heart of all those we seek to serve so that our voice can be recognized as a voice of hope and renewal; by standing alongside our people in life and death, as so many of the saints and heroes before us have done.

And to that life eternal and joyful, which we come to receive here at the Eucharist in this sacrament, a life in vision of the Father, in fellowship with Jesus Christ, in the joy and communion of the Holy Spirit may God through his Grace bring us all. Amen.