It was time to draw a line. Four times in the past three weeks I received a call asking for help. First it was the Police Benevolent Association, and then the Fireman's Widows and Orphans Fund, and then it was the Westchester Troopers Association, then March of Dimes. Wonderful organizations - all of them. And I'm sure you have had the same experiences with them and with other worthwhile charities. Somebody coined the term Compassion Fatigue to explain why people want to draw the line that I want to draw. "No more! Officer, I gave at the office!" That type of thing. I don't feel bad, either, at wanting to draw the line. I can lay claim to the words of Jesus from this morning's text, when the mother begged Jesus to cure her daughter. WDJS? What Did Jesus Say? "I was sent only to save the lost sheep of the house of Israel." And so when I draw my line and tell the Police or Firefighter's organizations, "Officers, I gave at the office" (and for me, that means supporting my church), well, it appears as if Jesus is saying somewhat the same thing to the Canaanite woman, "I was sent only to save the lost sheep of the house of Israel."

Here's how Barbara Brown Taylor puts it, "You have to draw a line somewhere. You have to decide what you can do and what you cannot do, whom you can help and whom you cannot help, or you will be eaten alive. You will be swallowed whole and you may never even be missed, because everything you have is not enough to feed the hunger of the world. That is a point most of us reach, anyhow, and often we decide to draw the line around our own families and friends, around our own churches and communities and concerns. We draw the line and, like Jesus, we may lose our tempers when outsiders try to cross it, because they are challenging the limits we have placed on ourselves to protect ourselves. Strangers show up saying, "Help me," and we invoke the line, the line that separates insiders from outsiders, clean from unclean, family from the wolves that howl outside our doors. "It is not fair to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs," we say, or something to that effect. It sounds harsh, but what are you going to do? You have to draw the line somewhere."

And in our text we see where it is that Jesus draws his line. The region of Tyre and Sidon, Gentile territory, outsider territory on the Mediterranean coast of what is now Lebanon. That is alien, foreign territory to most of us ... but very quickly we discover a commonality between us and the situation of our text. A mother and an ailing daughter. To this we can relate. It is no accident that the recipient of God's love and tender mercy is not a religious fanatic but rather a mother who's frantic. Sure, she is a Gentile "outsider," who knows nothing about rituals, rules and regulations. She does, however, have recognition. Not rituals, rules and regulations - but, recognition. She recognizes Jesus as a man who possesses the power of God, and as she grasps at Jesus she recognizes she is doing more than grasping at straws.

Although not a Jew, she is familiar with the lingo: "Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon." She is an outsider but somehow possesses insider information. Nevertheless, Jesus does not say a word. Perhaps he is sizing up the situation; perhaps he is overcome with emotion and pity. Though I said earlier he may appear to be ignoring her ... all the sketches we have in scripture which add up to the portrait of Jesus, convince us that Jesus is concerned. As are the disciples: "Get this noisy lady out of here!" And Jesus replies, perhaps to his disciples, perhaps more to himself, "I have been sent only to the lost sheep, the people of Israel." Now that's fair enough. He could only spread himself so thin; concentrate on the Jewish people and let THEM take God's love into the world. But still ... this is Jesus we are talking about. When family or friends disappoint us ... well, they are only human. But this is Jesus we are talking about.

Now the woman is not concerned with the way Jesus defines his mission and ministry to the house of Israel. She could not care less about the finer points of theology. She has a sick daughter on her hands and even though her hands are not the properly clean hands of Judaism, still she clasps them in prayer and grasps the robe of Jesus, "Help me, sir." Father Abraham is not her spiritual father; she has no claims on Jesus; but she does have a sick daughter and that is enough. "Help me, sir!"

Jesus again responds rather strangely, with a little saying about not taking food from the children and giving it to the dogs. The "children" are no doubt the Jewish people, but ... is Jesus calling the Canaanites canines? If so, most scholars would agree that he is talking gently about puppies, family pets, rather than scavenger dogs in the street. And the woman responds, "Sir, even the dogs get some leftovers."

As a result of her stick-to-it-tiveness AND her faith, Jesus opens his hands and gives to her, not leftovers, but the full love of God. And speaking of Abraham, it does not matter who her father is, but what her faith is. And her faith is ... enough! Then again, faith in Jesus Christ, no matter how small, is always enough! The miracle happens; her daughter is cured. Jesus drew a line and then he crossed it. Jesus drew a line and then he erased it.

Just as an aside, if Jesus were running for office, his opponent would say he flip-flopped. But we all know that a mark of maturity is the ability to keep an open mind about issues and people. On some issues and matters of faith ... we are firm. On other issues we are open to new insights. At least that is what Jesus seems to be modeling for us in this text.

We all have lines we have drawn in order to protect ourselves and those closest to us. I have a grandchild on the way. No - two on the way. I can't be giving to every charity or needy person on the street. Or can I? You have obligations to family also. And to friends. And like me, you want to be generous to your church ... this community where your faith is strengthened and where new friendships are formed. You can't be giving to every charity or needy person on the street. Or can you?

Let me quote again from Barbara Brown Taylor, who has a wonderful way of making a difficult concept more understandable. I paraphrase a bit as I borrow: "Reach out! Look a Canaanite in the eye, knock on a strange door..., trespass an old boundary, enter a new relationship, push a limit, take a risk, give up playing safe! You have nothing to lose but your life the way it has been, and there's lots more life where that came from. And if you get scared ... remember today's story. With Jesus as our model and our Lord, we are called to step over the lines we have drawn for ourselves, not because we have to, ought to, or even want to ... but because we know it is Jesus himself who is waiting on the far side of that line."

We have no claim on God, and yet, we have Jesus and that is enough. Jesus, who hears our cries of pain. Jesus, who understands us. Jesus, who saves us, with dirty and bloodstained hands stretched out to the world. And this morning, we dine. Not on leftovers from the master's table ... but in bread and wine, we receive Jesus himself. Jesus, who crossed the line on behalf of we lost sheep of the house of Grace - receiving this morning: grace at the household of Grace.