In the local Yorktown paper, North County News, there is a conservative columnist I usually turn to first. A little truth in advertising here: I usually disagree with many of the things Anthony Bazzo has to say, but he is an engaging writer and has a good grasp of local issues. What I really like is he makes his point and always concludes, "This is my opinion, you may beg to differ." There's none of this, "If you disagree, you are not a good American." Or, "If you disagree, what are you, nuts?" Not at all; merely, "This is my opinion, you may beg to differ." And how refreshing is that?

Preaching weekly is a bit different from a writing a weekly political column. Especially preaching to Christians who have been steeped in the tradition that God's Word comes to us on Sunday morning, not only through the reading of Scripture, but also through the words of the preacher. You may have heard something like this in the past, "writing a sermon is 90% perspiration and 10% inspiration." The word "inspire" literally means, "breathe into," or inhale. Our Christian theology is bold to declare that the sermon is the Holy Spirit breathing into the very being of the preacher, and thus the preacher's words echo the Word of God. Now, you may beg to differ, but that's not my opinion ... it is the way Luther talked about preaching. It's the way Christians have acknowledged preaching all the way back to Peter's sermon on that first Pentecost. Actually, the concept goes way back into the Hebrew scriptures as the prophets proclaim, "Thus says the Lord...!" But again, you may beg to differ.

Now take, for example, our text for today - one of the most quirky and awkward accounts of the ministry of Jesus you'll ever run across. You can hear five different preachers interpret this text in six different ways. And which sermon would be the Word of God? The answer is, all of them. After all, if the preacher is inspired by the Holy Spirit, each interpretation is the Word of God. If we can see the hand of God through the words of the preacher, no matter how this text is interpreted ... well then, it was a worth-your-time experience to listen to any of those six interpretations in five sermons.

The Syrophoenician woman. Now there's a feisty woman of faith. This foreigner begging the Jewish Rabbi to come to the aid of her daughter. Of course, she's a foreigner in the eyes of Jesus, but it is Jesus who set foot into her land. The region of Tyre; so says our text. Modern day Lebanon. And it is Jesus who has the stamp in his passport; it is he who is the foreigner.

This story is the only reported instance of Jesus leaving the Holy Land. Then again, wherever Jesus is, the land is holy. Not in-and-of itself ... but it takes on the status of sacred space because Jesus chooses to walk there. Wherever it is that you find Jesus in your own life, that place and space is holy. That being said, Jesus denies the mother the health care she is seeking. For her daughter. Her little daughter.

Now this mother is not concerned with universal health care; her concern is very local - her daughter. Then again, it might be universal health care, because her daughter is her whole world. And this mother has to beg Jesus to heal her. You may beg to differ; she begged for deference, hoping against hope that Jesus would defer, give in, to her badgering. No matter how many times I've read this text, and how many times I've attempted to preach it, when I get to the apparent rudeness of Jesus toward a begging mother ... well this text is still shocking!

You don't get this from the written text, but the mother must have been as shocked as we might be. Stunned. You don't get this from the written text, but the color must have risen to her cheeks, along with a rising anger and bitterness. Not so much that Jesus called her daughter a dog ... but rather, the Rabbi with a reputation for healing and other assorted miracles, is not willing to exercise his power by exorcising her daughter's demons ... the disorder which afflicts her.

Finally she says, "Even the dogs ...." She pauses, biting her bottom lip, and tries again. "Even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." It was an indirect way of saying, "Go, Mister Rabbi, and deal with the children of Israel. But please, surely you have some leftovers in your bag of miracles ... enough at least for my daughter." And because of her faith, or due to her tenaciousness (one might say, doggedness), Jesus consents to heal her daughter ... and he does.

Did this persistent Gentile change the mind of Jesus? Did her persistent doggedness change the heart of Jesus? Did this woman help enlarge the mission of Jesus ... who perhaps saw his assignment of saving the Jews ... stretched to a new self-identity, a universal Savior? A Savior of the world? Whatever the reason Mark shares this somewhat unflattering look at Jesus, who is so unJesus-like in this story, the bottom line is that Jesus extends his health care and Jesus heals the daughter. The little daughter.

I had a conversation with good friends some months ago - the topic was health care. The conversation ended badly, and the fault was mine. The details don't matter, but you know the old admonition, "Don't talk politics or religion with your friends." Evidently that's extended to, "Don't talk politics, religion, or health care with your friends." Who would have thought health care would end up in the same caution with politics and religion?

Of course, religion, the Christian faith, is all about health care. Jesus was a healer and calls upon his followers to also be healers. In Matthew 10:1 we read, "Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness." I am a follower of Jesus. We are all disciples of Jesus. For whatever the reason we don't seem to be very good at this healing business though.

However, let's not be dismayed. You may beg to differ, but people are begging for adequate health care in this country - in this the most prosperous country, the most generous country on the face of the earth, people are begging for health care. And we can be healers. Not necessarily the way the disciples were, nor the healer Jesus is. We can be healers by advocating an adequate health care system for the people of our fair land!

Somebody sent me the gist of a speech by a man named Jim Rigby. Jim, a Presbyterian pastor, addressed a health care forum in Austin. In his remarks he said, "I cannot believe I am standing today (among Christians), defending the proposition that we should lessen the suffering of those who cannot afford health care.... I cannot believe there are Christians around this nation who are shouting that message down....The late Brazilian bishop Dom Hélder Câmara said it well: 'When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a Communist.'" And Jim concludes, "Too often today in the United States, if you talk about helping the poor, they call you Christian, but if you actually try to do something to help the poor, they call you a socialist."

Please do not view this through the lens of political partisanship. Pastor Rigby is not defending a particular health plan. He was stating a simple truth. Our health care system needs fixing. Christians, those who try to walk in the footsteps of the Great Physician, have an obligation to urge our elected leaders to turn down the volume of partisanship, stop the name calling, act like adults, and conspire (conspire means "breathe together," or "with the spirit"). It's not too much to suggest that our leaders conspire toward a workable, affordable plan to ensure that health care is available to all. That's not the Democratic agenda; it's not the Republican agenda. It's the Jesus Agenda.

The Jesus Agenda? Recall that Jesus, in Matthew 25, once told a story about the Last Judgment. "Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you...; for I was sick and you took care of me....' Then they will answer, 'Lord, when was it we saw you sick...? And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.'" The Jesus Agenda.

The Gospel story this morning is shocking ... but for those of us weaned on "Jesus loves me," the ending and the healing is predictable! Jesus is a Healer ... and by God, a Healer's got to heal. And by God, the Healer calls upon his disciples to be healers too. This is God's Word. Of course, you may beg to differ.