Scripture: Mark 7:24-30
From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre.He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." But she answered him, "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." Then he said to her, "For saying that, you may go — the demon has left your daughter." So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
Reflection Questions:
Have you ever experienced being an outsider? How did that feel? Were others kind to you? Mean? Where was God in that encounter? Was God with you or with them?
Five-minute Story:
Each Friday, they line up down De Haro Street in San Francisco. By the time that St. Gregory of Nyssa opens the doors of its fresh food pantry, there are hundreds of people that are waiting. They come with an assortment of shopping carts, bags, and rolling suitcases. Some have traveled by bus - all have walked up the steep hills.
Reaching back into the forgotten past, the founding priests of St. Gregory of Nyssa created a liturgy that involves dancing, singing, chanting, without organ or piano. The entire worshiping community moves within the space of the small sanctuary. Larger than life-sized icons ‘dance’ above and decorate the octagonal chancel area. Jesus leads the dance among the saints (painted with gold-leaf halos) above and the living saints who bring their worship below. The only furniture in the room is the Eucharistic table in the center.
On Friday, tarps, crates, and tables cover the liturgical dance floor. The food pantry uses this sacred space for a dance of its own. Once the doors open, hundreds of people will circle the room and load fresh vegetables into the carts, bags, and rolling suitcases. The church’s welcoming theology proclaims that Jesus dances with them as they receive their groceries without a price. Within this space, you can hear an echo of Isaiah’s heavenly dream, “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!”
If in my excitement about this fantastic place, I have made it sound idyllic - it is not. As unusual and groundbreaking as this ministry is, it remains temporal. Like humanity itself, it is beautiful and broken. Before opening the doors, the food pantry director reminded volunteers that they would receive their portion of food at the end of the day, but they couldn’t take more than what everybody else got. Evidently, this was an issue the previous week. One woman stormed out of the meeting in a huff, speaking her displeasure in her native Russian tongue.
At the start of the food pantry, my station was at a stack of crates filled with red potatoes fresh from the California growing fields. I was told by the food pantry director to start with giving three potatoes to every person. By the end of the day, he increased the portion to four.
As I began to distribute the potatoes, I learned a little about the culture. The majority of people who came through the line were Asian. With a smile on my face, I greeted the food pantry guests and offered potatoes. In most cases, folks smiled back at me and opened their bags. It wasn’t true for everyone though. “No potatoes!” One aged Mandarin lady barked back to me in broken English.
As appealing as they were to my eyes, the red potatoes are not all that welcomed. First, they are heavy. When you have to travel across the terrain of a hilly city by foot, weight is a concern. What is more, potatoes may be a staple food in Western cuisines but not so in Asian diets. Rice grains, not tuber vegetables, is the central starch.
“NO potatoes!” The abrupt phrase interrupted without apology. I don’t want or need what you think I need. Even in her struggle and adversity, this child of God exercised the freedom to say, “no.” There was a dignity in her dance step as she moved on down the line. I was left speechless with the potatoes in my hand.