Sermon for Sunday, September 8, 2024 || Proper 18B || Mark 7:24-37
I was in my twenties before I consciously decided to open myself up to trying new foods without any of my previous suspicion. I was a notoriously picky eater as a kid, and one of the supreme ironies of my life has been the advent of digestive health issues happening at the same time that I started wanting to try new foods. It all began at my first church in West Virginia when I realized that I loved every kind of soup. Shirley Schwork was a master soup maker, and I liked everything she made for a monthly soup and sandwich group, no matter if the individual ingredients included foods I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole – like squash and zucchini and spinach. If they tasted good in soup, it stood to reason, then maybe other foods I had never given a proper chance might taste good too.
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