Thaddaeus stopped and turned around. He scanned the street, but all he saw were people moving fast and in every direction. "Nah," he said, turning back toward his friends who moving away from him fast.
Then he heard it again, this time louder.
"Jesus! Hey Jesus! Jeeee-suuuus!"
Click here to read part one of this story
The Smallest Person in All the World
Part Two: The Voice, the Eyes, and the Math of God
The Voice
This time they all heard it. Jesus stopped abruptly, and some of the disciples bumped into him. They turned around and looked down the street, trying to find the voice.
"Jesus, son of David. Have mercy on me. Jesus!"
All their heads snapped to the right a little, and then they saw her, back thirty paces or so, across the road. A ragged looking woman yelling loudly and waving her hand. She was working against the flow of human traffic, trying to cross the road at an angle to catch up with them. It was hard to tell, but it looked like she was dragging a child behind her.
"Keep walking," said Jesus, turning quickly and heading away. She saw them leaving, and her shouts grew louder and more frantic.
"Jesus, stop! Please, come back. Have mercy on me, son of David. Oh please! It's not for me, it's for my baby!"
People started paying attention. Following her gestures, a few even pointed at Jesus and the disciples who were obviously trying to get away from her.
Peter worked his way up to Jesus.
"Listen man, you gotta do something about this woman. She's starting to make a scene, which is exactly what you didn't want. How does she know you anyway? What does she want?"
Jesus looked pained. "I know what she wants, but I can't give it to her. We can't do our work here. I am only called to work among the children of Israel. I have to follow the rules on this one, Peter. I have to. Everything could be at risk."
"Hey man," said Peter. "You don't have to convince me. I never wanted to come to this God-forsaken place anyway."
The crowd thinned a little, and Jesus was able to walk more quickly. When she saw that she was losing them, she cried out one last time. She reached down into her soul and found the ancient sound of sorrow. This sound is the birthright of every mother, and it carries great power. It cannot be faked or easily ignored.
"No, Jesus. Stop!"
The sound of sorrow was her last move and her only hope. She hurled it at Jesus with all her might. Her voice hit him like a fist in the back, stiffening him and stopping him in his tracks. He was not able to walk, but he didn't turn around. He just stood there, facing away from her, head down, breathing hard. The disciples milled around him, wondering what happened.
She came a little closer, but tentatively, scared she might frighten him away. She spoke again, but softer. "Please, I call out to you in the name of God. Son of David, please, help my little girl."
Peter grabbed Jesus by the arm. "What are you doing? Why are you stopping?"
Jesus looked at Peter, amazed. "You heard the sound of her voice. How are YOU able to walk?”
He turned to face the woman, now only ten steps behind them. She stood still, panting and watching them. She seemed shocked that they had actually stopped.
Jesus spoke softly to the disciples. "I'm going to tell her the truth. She deserves that much."
"What do you mean, the truth?" asked James.
"I mean the truth. I'm going to tell her exactly why I cannot heal her daughter. I'm going to tell her what our people think of her people. And she's going to hate me. She will absolutely hate me, but hating me is better than her thinking that her daughter isn’t worth healing.”
The Eyes
The woman walked to Jesus with her little girl in front of her. Then she knelt before him. And there she was, the sum of all their fears. A gentile. Unclean. Needy. A distraction, a bother, a problem.
"Jesus of Nazareth, I know you. I saw you two years ago. I know that you have the power of God. Please, heal my little girl. We don't ask much. My husband is dead, and I am reduced to begging, but that's okay. I can live with that if only you will make her well. She's so little and she doesn't even know how hard her life will… Just please, make her well. I know you can."
She fell silent, then bowed her head and waited.
Jesus paused, and this moment seemed like an eternity. The crowd moved around them, but some curious onlookers stopped to see what was going on.
It was a hard call to make, but it was Jesus’ call, and he made it. He made the call back when he first heard her, and he wasn’t going to back away from his decision now.
"I'm sorry. I truly am sorry, but I cannot do this for you. I know you will not understand, but I cannot take what is meant for God's children, and give it to the dogs."
Jesus never took his eyes off the woman. He swallowed hard and waited for her anger.
But her anger never came. Not one hint of anger crossed her face. She was a mother with a sick child. She was beyond anger, beyond reason, and beyond desperation. You could insult her, strike her, spit in her face, and she would only be thinking about how she might get you to help her child.
She did not get angry; she got stronger. She rose to her feet with a dignity that surprised them all, even Jesus. She pulled her chin up with pride and looked right into his eyes. And then she had her say.
"I know how you feel about us. I've been to Galilee. That's where I saw you. 'Galilee of the Gentiles,' you call it, but I could tell that people despised me even there."
"You say that you are the chosen people of God. Maybe you are. Maybe compared to you we seem like dogs. I know life isn't exactly great in these parts, but let me tell YOU something. Around here, we save a few scraps to feed the puppies under the table, you know? We might not know that much about God, but we know something about compassion."
"See, there you stand, an important rabbi with a powerful history, but you don't even have scraps for someone like me. I think maybe you should ask yourself just what it means to BE God's chosen people."
Jesus was stunned by her words, and then wonder flooded his face. He bent closer and looked deeply into her eyes.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
And then he saw it. She had the Rabbi's eyes. Same color, same shape, same gentle honesty. She was not condemning him; she was seeing him and speaking the truth to him.
"Rebbi," he whispered.
The Math of God
At that instant, in a flash of enlightenment, Jesus understood the mathematics of God. In that moment it was given that he should stand outside of time and know a deeper truth. Sometimes it is right that everything should stop for the smallest person in all the world. Sometimes one person is worth as much as all the people. Sometimes the least is the greatest and the first is the last.
And maybe, in just the right moment, one person could carry the sin of the world on his shoulders.
"I understand," he said to no one in particular.
The math of God filled his soul, and the beauty of it, the unexplainable beauty, welled up inside of him, driving a shiver up his spine. A smile burst onto his face. He laughed out loud and put his palm on her cheek.
"Woman, I had no idea. I didn't know such faith existed outside of my own people. I did not know until now. Yes, absolutely. What you want will be done for you."
He bent and held the little girl's head between his hands. He kissed her forehead, holding his lips there for a moment. Her eyes closed, and then he drew back. When her eyes opened again, he saw that she had the eyes of the rabbi, just like her mother, full of intelligence and curiosity.
Jesus took one look at her, smiled, and walked away. The disciples were stunned and trailed after him. They did not know what they had seen.
The smallest woman in all the world held her child, looked into her eyes, and let out a shout. People parted around Jesus as he moved away, then melted back together as he passed through. By the time she looked up, Jesus was gone forever.
No one said anything for a few minutes. They walked in silence. The disciples could tell that something important had happened, but they weren't sure what it was, exactly.
It was Jesus who spoke first. "I think we have about a half an hour to get out of town before people start looking for me. Let's go home, whaddya say?"
Several nodded their agreement, but Thaddaeus spoke up. "What about the retreat? What about all those things you said you needed to teach us?"
Jesus laughed and put both hands on Judas’ shoulders from behind, leaning on him and letting Judas pull him along for a step or two. Then he let go and punched Peter on the shoulder.
"I think we’ve learned enough for one day."
RLPDV (A Real Live Preacher Dramatized Version)
rlp
Note: This story occurs in two places in the gospels. Mark's account gives us the clue that Jesus did not want to be recognized. Matthew's account shows Jesus searching his soul and the wonderful interaction with the disciples.
Mark 7:24-30
Matthew 15:21-28
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