[ p. 189 ]
THE THIRD YEAR OF HIS MINISTRY
A RETREAT TO PHCENICIA
Jo. vii. i. Mt. xv. 21-28 ; Mk. vii. 24-31 a.
That year (28 A.D.) the Passover fell on March 29. It was already, as St. John observes, drawing near when our Lord made His retreat to the eastern side of the Lake;(Jo. vi. 4) and according to the custom which He had followed ever since He was twelve years of age, He should now have set out on the annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem. But this year He would not attend the Feast. The risk was too great. Last year He had narrowly escaped arrest and arraignment before the Sanhedrin on the capital charge of blasphemy, and the hostility of the rulers had meanwhile been exasperated by the reports which had reached them of His doings in Galilee. They were bent on putting Him to death. Nor was this His sole apprehension. There was also the likelihood that, despite the temporary cooling of their ardour in the synagogue of Capernaum, the Galilean enthusiasts would carry out their wild project of acclaiming Him King in the Sacred Capital. This would have been disastrous. It would surely have fanned the ever smouldering embers of Messianic fanaticism and kindled another of those desperate insurrections so frequent in that unhappy period.
And therefore He would not attend the Feast. Neither would He remain at Capernaum. He desired a season of quiet communion with the Twelve. It [ p. 190 ] was for this that He had crossed over to the eastern side of the Lake, and His purpose had been frustrated by the pursuit of the multitude. So now He would seek some other and more distant retreat. Whither should He turn ? Beyond the northern frontier of Galilee lay the country of Phoenicia, belonging in those days to the Roman Province of Syria. It was an heathen land, and there surely, far from the malignant rulers and the clamorous multitude, He would find seclusion. He betook Plimself with the Twelve to the neighbourhood of the ancient city of Tyre, and there in some quiet village they procured a lodging.
It quickly appeared that not even in Phoenicia was He secure from interruption. The Phoenicians were a race of traders, and merchants who visited the Holy Land had brought home tidings of the wonderful Healer (Mk. iii. 7,8); and it is written that there were people from the neighbourhood of Tyre and Sidon among the numerous strangers who had crowded to Capernaum at the beginning of His second year’s ministry. His arrival excited lively interest. It was good news to the afflicted, and it soon brought a suppliant to His feet—a woman, a widow according to the Syriac Version of St. Mark’s Gospel, who had an epileptic daughter—possessed, as the phrase was, by “an unclean spirit.” Tradition has it that her name was Justa and her daughter’s Bernice.
He had been abroad with the Twelve, conversing with them amid the pleasant solitude of hillside and woodland, and now at eventide they were returning to their lodging when the woman approached. “Have pity on me,” she cried, “O Lord, Son of David ! My daughter is sorely possessed.” He paid no heed, Not [ p. 191 ] that He did not care, but He had come thither seeking seclusion, and if He healed this sufferer He would presently find Himself beset by an importunate crowd, and His long journey would be in vain. She followed after Him urging her entreaty, but still He paid no heed. It was an embarrassing situation, and the Twelve, resenting the annoyance, suggested that He should grant her petition and so be rid of her. He answered with unwonted severity: “I was not sent but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” That was the commission which He had lately given them when He sent them forth to preach in southern Galilee (cf. Mt. x. 6), and now as then the limitation was but temporary. He was the Saviour of the world, but the task of winning the world was reserved for them, and He had not come to Phoenicia to proclaim His salvation there but to prepare them for their high vocation. This meanwhile was His concern, and He was loath to be diverted from it.
They held on their way till they reached their lodging, and the woman pressed in after them [1] and knelt down before Him. “Lord,” she implored, “help me !” Then at last He took notice of her. “It is not allowable,” said He, “to take the children’s bread and cast it to the dogs.” This seems at the first blush a heartless insult, breathing the very spirit of Jewish intolerance. For in their bitter contempt of the Gentiles the Jews reviled them as “dogs” (Cf. Ps. lviii. 6,14) —“uncircumcised dogs,” “dogs outside the Holy City,” those unclean pariahs which prowled the streets by night in quest of garbage, howling and [ p. 192 ] snarling. On the lips of a Rabbi this would have been the meaning of the phrase, but it was not its meaning on our Lord’s lips. He was quoting a familiar proverb suggested by His surroundings. The word He uses is a kindly diminutive, the proper designation of the little house-dogs which attended at meal-times begging for scraps. It was only scraps that they got, and there was a homely proverb : “First the children, then the doggies. , The table was spread for the evening meal when the Lord and His disciples entered their lodging, and the family pet was there expectant. This suggested His reply to the poor suppliant: “It is not allowable to take the children’s bread and cast it to the doggies.” It was humorously and kindly spoken. Her sorrow had touched His heart and her importunity was conquering His reluctance; and, reading His compassion in His look and tone, she capped His proverb with another in the same strain— a thrifty proverb forbidding waste. “Yes, Lord,” she said, “even the doggies beneath the table eat of the children’s scraps.” It was a clever retort, and it won its reward. “My woman,” said He, “great is your faith ! Have it as you wish.” She went home and found her daughter well.
What happened thereafter is barely outlined by St. Mark in a brief yet significant sentence : “And again He quitted the bounds of Tyre and went through Sidon.” (Mk. vii. 31) Evidently it happened as He had anticipated. He had come to Phoenicia that for a season He might sojourn there unknown and hold converse with the Twelve on the things of His Kingdom; but His healing of that poor girl brought around Him an eager throng, and His purpose was [ p. 193 ] once more frustrated. He recognised here the working of His Father’s will which was His constant guide, and He obeyed its dictate. He did not turn away in quest of another retreat but, following the path so unexpectedly opened before Him, devoted Himself for a while to an active ministry in that strange environment. It may seem surprising that a Jewish teacher should have been able to discourse intelligibly to an alien people, but in truth there is no marvel here. For ever since the days of Alexander the Great, Greek had been the common language of the countries surrounding the Mediterranean, and thus He could preach as freely in Tyre and Sidon as in Capernaum or Jerusalem.
It was a truly momentous occasion—the only occasion when our Lord preached beyond the confines of the Holy Land, attesting the universality of His grace. And here doubtless lies the reason why it is so scantily recorded. Prejudice dies slowly, and even as the Jewish Christians in after days disliked St. Paul’s Gentile apostleship, so they loved not to remember how the Lord had visited those heathen, and left the story untold. It is a grave omission. Had the story been written, it would have been not the least precious or least moving chapter of the Gospel narrative. For there is express evidence that His Phoenician ministry was singularly fruitful. By and by, in His farewell to Galilee, when He was setting out on His last journey to Jerusalem (Mt. xi. 20-22; Lk. x. 12-15), He upbraided her cities, so peculiarly favoured, and contrasted their obduracy with the reception accorded Him in Tyre and Sidon.
Is there no memorial, no lingering echo of that unique ministry ? On the pages of the early Christian [ p. 194 ] literature ancKn other often surprising quarters occur “unwritten sayings” of our Lord—sayings which no sacred writer recorded but which lived on in devout remembrance; and here is one of these: “The world is merely a bridge: you are to pass over it and not to build your dwellings upon it.” [2] If this be indeed, as it surely is, an authentic saying of our Lord, then it was not spok,en in the Holy Land; for it is remarkable that there were no bridges there. The Jordan was the only river, and it was crossed by fords like that at Bethabara, and the lesser streams when in flood were crossed on stilts. The saying was not spoken in the Holy Land; and since our Lord taught nowhere else beyond its borders, He must have spoken it in Phoenicia, probably at Tyre, that city of ancient renown, “the crowning city,” as the prophet styles her, “whose merchants were princes, whose traffickers were the honourable of the earth.” (Is. xiii. 8.) She was set on an island three quarters of a mile off the mainland and connected therewith in our Lord’s day by a famous mole built by Alexander the Great. As our Lord passed over that farnous’bridge, traversed continually by caravans bringing to the harbour the silks and spices of the gorgeous East and carrying thence the rich cargoes from the western seaports—Ephesus, Corinth, and Tarshish, He saw there a parable; and discoursing in the market-place to those eager traffickers so busy with their peris’hing merchandise and oblivious of Eternity, The world, said He, “is merely a bridge: you are to pass over it and not to build your dwellings upon it.”
From Tyre He travelled northward, and He would [ p. 195 ] preach as He went. On his route lay Sarepta, the ancient Zarephath, where of old the prophet Elijah had succoured and blessed the poor widow ; and surely He would linger there. His goal was Tyre’s commercial rival, ztw great seaport of Sidon, and there He closed His Phoenician ministry.