I grew up in a pretty conservative church environment that highly valued the teachings of Jesus. There was always a lot of emphasis on the parables and sayings of Jesus, and all that was good and essential. Later in life, as I looked back on those years I was grateful. But I also realised that a lot of the preaching and teaching focused on a better morality than the world’s idea of morality. And, of course, anything Jesus taught is surely going to improve any person’s outlook on life and their general character. But what Jesus was doing was explaining how people could be in tune with God and His kingdom priorities. And this is much more than mere morality.
God is not interested in morality. He never has been. In fact, in heaven morality doesn’t exist, it would be a strange concept because holiness is the standard. Holiness is what makes the glory of God, glorious. It is a magnificent, astonishing, breathtaking thing that cannot be attained by keeping to some moral standard. Any moral standard is automatically flawed simply because it is not holy. (Hope you got that!). God has called His people to holiness from time immemorial in both Old and New Testaments. It’s the standard by which relationship with God is conducted at its absolute best. God’s concern for His people is holiness. Israel was called to be a holy nation. This was their sole purpose in order to be a blessing to the world – a living manifestation of God and His glory.
Exodus 19:6 (NIV)
“… ‘you will be for Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.' These are the words you are to speak to the Israelites."
In the New Testament God renewed that call for all the people of God – Jews and Gentiles saved by the work of Christ.
1 Peter 1:15-16 (NIV)
“But just as He who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; 16 for it is written: ‘Be holy, because I am holy.’”
Same call. Renewed and passionate. Now, I grew up with teachings from Jesus that I valued, but which were, as I reflect decades later, much more about being a nice, cultured, religious, moral person that didn’t do naughty things. But that’s not discipleship at all – that’s religion and “churchianity”. I grew up on this stuff. But, every now and then, as I read the gospel accounts as a boy, I saw a Jesus who was more than a rabbi-teacher person. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the teacher Jesus and the miracle-working Jesus, but I saw more in the gospels than was often preached. Let me explain …
I clearly remember one cold winter night in my room. I was alone and it was well after lights out. I was reading by candlelight (yes, we did have electricity!). It was a very cold, wet and windy night. I shivered in that spartan bungalow, that never did get finished off, whenever a blast of icy wind forced its way through the cracks of the plasterboard. I was reading in Mark’s gospel; below is that very passage:
Mark 7:24-30 (NIV)
Jesus left that place and went to the vicinity of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet He could not keep His presence secret. 25 In fact, as soon as she heard about Him, a woman whose little daughter was possessed by an impure spirit came and fell at His feet. 26 The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter. 27 "First let the children eat all they want," He told her, "for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs." 28 "Lord," she replied, "even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." 29 Then he told her, "For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter." 30 She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
I remember this night so well. I was 11 years old. I was so used to the teacher Jesus, but this night I had an encounter with the heart of Jesus. In later years I understood this scripture passage so much more and what was really going on. But this night I suddenly saw the heart of my Saviour. Jesus, for reasons not explained in the text, had ventured beyond Israel’s northern most border with Lebanon. You’ve read the text. A woman, a Syro-Phoenician Greek, discovers Jesus is there and, clearly aware of His reputation, hunts Him down. Her daughter is demonically afflicted. She is desperate. She bursts in on Jesus. (There is no stopping a mother desperate for her child!). She begs Jesus to cast out the demon. At first He seems to have refused – this seems puzzling. I didn’t understand this at first.
Jesus explains that His mission right now is to Israel – the ‘called out’ people of God. That was His singular focus. He put it like this: "First let the children eat all they want," he told her, "for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs." To my young mind that sounded harsh. I understood this better when I became more educated in the ancient texts. But, I read this over and over that night. I kind of understood Jesus’ mission priority was not yet fulfilled, hence His response, which I later learned was Jewish idiom. I read the woman’s desperate plea for Jesus to reconsider - "even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." Were Jesus and this women arguing with each other? Joking a bit? I didn’t think so, a mother as desperate would not waste time joking around. I meditated some more and suddenly saw a picture in my mind’s eye (not sure if it was prophetic or not, doesn’t matter) of this poor woman begging Jesus for some of the crumbs that might be left over from His mission to Israel. She doesn’t realise it, but she is asking the King of kings for any crumbs that just might fall from His table, for her afflicted child.
I have always, for some reason, pictured Jesus replying to her in that moment – I still do: "For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter." I remember seeing a busy, on-mission kind of Jesus after a long day on the road, tired and hungry and not wanting another interruption to His down time. He wanted alone time. His initial response to the woman did not settle the matter. She begs. She pleads. It’s almost as if she is saying, “OK, Jesus, I get it. You’re on a very important mission. I cannot begin to understand how important it is. I realise that Israel needs your full attention right now. I hear you when you say, ‘it’s not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to us dogs’, but, if you can spare just a few crumbs from the table, I’ll settle for that.” In my mind I saw the countenance of Jesus soften in great compassion and mercy and, tired as He was, His heart is deeply moved. And despite His vital mission, He finds grace and mercy for her. I have always imagined that Jesus was moved to tears and so wanted to help her. We are not given all the details of this encounter. But even a brief study and meditation of this passage in the ancient language does not suggest the slightest harshness in Jesus’ words to this mother. This scene does not feature a contemptuous Messiah who plays games with human beings. No. It portrays a willing God, a very willing one, who delights in a sincere seeker – whatever their background, gender or culture.
Aren’t you glad of that?
In all His busyness and single-minded focus on the mission, His heart was moved in the moment to set the mission aside to deliver this woman’s child from Satan’s grasp. This woman, a foreigner looked down upon by the Jews, had no resume, no respectable heritage, no pedigree, no education, no rights and no resources. She had nothing - and she knew it. She just knows her daughter is weak, but that Jesus is strong. That’s all she knows. She begged for kingdom crumbs, but Jesus unleashed kingdom power.
That cold night, back in 1967, I read that story over and over. And, as far as I can recall, that was when I first sensed very deeply the heart of Jesus towards ‘unworthy’ people. This Jesus became my Saviour a year later when a desperate kid cried out to Him for rescue in the darkest night of his soul.
Think on these things.
Ps Milton