It’s August 16, 2020, and today, we hear an uncomfortable story that becomes a turning point in Matthew’s Gospel as the vision of God’s Kingdom is expanded beyond assumed boundaries. Today’s Gospel text is Matthew 15:10-28.
I found helpful Marilyn Salmon’s 2008 commentary on this text at Working Preacher, as well as this week’s episode of the Sermon Brainwave podcast.
Here’s the podcast recording and the sermon video for the week.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
Some of you may have come today because church is a comforting, safe place, where you get to feel good about hearing nice stories about Jesus. If that’s you, you may want to tune out now and wait for the outdoor service next week in the community center parking lot. That’s a much nicer reading than this one.
You see, one of the valuable things about the three year lectionary we follow is that I as the pastor don’t get to just pick the readings I like, which is good, because this story of Jesus and this Canaanite woman is not a reading I’d ever pick.
So here’s your warning: This sermon will probably make you uncomfortable. This gospel reading makes me uncomfortable. Maybe that’s good.
As this story begins, some of the Pharisees and other religious leaders have challenged Jesus on why his disciples aren’t following the religious law correctly by going through the whole traditional hand-washing ritual every time they eat.
In response, Jesus accuses them of being hypocrites who care more about the letter of the law than God’s intent in the law, and in the first part we just read, he tells the crowd that what comes out of a person’s heart is more important than following all the traditional rituals correctly.
Not surprisingly, the Pharisees get offended and they start putting more pressure on Jesus.
After that exchange, Jesus leaves that region and goes to the district of Tyre and Sidon, in modern-day Lebanon, north of Israel, and there he meets a local Canaanite woman.
As uncomfortable as it is to read, this encounter is a turning point in Matthew’s gospel.
Earlier, Jesus had sent out his disciples to go from place to place healing diseases and driving out demons. He talked about the harvest being plentiful, but the workers being few, and he sent them out all over Israel, but only to Israel. There was plenty to do in Israel without worrying about the rest of the world beyond their borders.
By the end of Matthew, though, Jesus will be telling his followers in the Great Commission to go and make disciples of “all nations.” There’s definitely a change there, and this story is one of the places we see the vision of God’s kingdom expanding.
By the way, in today’s reading from Romans, we hear another fragment of this debate over whether salvation is for everyone or only for the Jewish people. For most of his letter to the Christians in Rome, Paul has been arguing that God’s salvation comes through faith rather than through the law.
If God saves only through following the law—which was given to the Jewish people—then anyone who isn’t Jewish and therefore doesn’t follow the Jewish law is in big trouble. But, Paul says, salvation comes from God’s grace received through faith, and salvation by grace through faith includes everyone.
The part of the debate we hear today is Paul’s response to one of the counter-arguments to this idea of being saved by grace through faith: If God saves by grace, does that mean God is rejecting the Jewish people who were given the law to follow?
No, says Paul, it’s not that God has abandoned one group of people in order to include the other group—“The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable”—instead, now everyone is in the same boat.
All are disobedient, but God is merciful to all. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus proves the power of the law has been defeated and God’s grace is more than enough for everyone. The first followers of Jesus—who, remember, were all Jewish—don’t get a monopoly on God’s grace.
Back in the Gospel story, the disciples’ position is clear. They’re annoyed by this shrill, demanding, foreign woman. Their response to her reeks of sexist ethnocentrism. They see her as outside the boundaries, insignificant, a nuisance rather than a human being created in God’s image.
And you know what? She probably was annoying. She probably was obnoxious. But the disciples’ response is—dare I say—un-Christian. “Send her away, Jesus, she’s annoying. She’s beyond help. We’ve got better things to do. She’s not our problem.” It’s not a good look.
Jesus’ own position is less obvious. First, he chose to go to this foreign region, literally outside the boundaries of Israel. And then when this woman comes to him asking for help, he refuses to send her away, despite the disciples’ request.
On the other hand, when Jesus does engage with her, there’s no question his response is rude. First, although he does eventually answer her, it’s only after he’s ignored her for a while. She shouts at him for help, and he remains silent until the disciples directly ask him to do something.
When he does talk to her, he first says her needs aren’t his problem, because she’s not one of the acceptable group, the lost sheep of Israel to whom he was sent. Then when she persists, he starts into this metaphor about throwing the children’s food to the dogs, meaning her and her kind of people.
How would you react if you heard me calling someone a female dog? How do we react when we hear Jesus using this kind of language? It sure makes me uncomfortable!
We expect the disciples to not understand what’s going on. We expect them to say stupid things, and get reprimanded, and then to learn and grow. But what do we do when Jesus is the one who seems to not understand his own mission? What do we do with this story where Jesus doesn’t seem to be acting like a loving savior?
One option is to try to defend Jesus, to treat this whole thing as some kind of a test set up for the woman, or maybe for the disciples, in which case the disciples fail miserably and the woman passes with flying colors.
But if you start trying to defend Jesus that way, you run into some other uncomfortable problems, like if this is all a test of the woman’s faith, then what if she’d failed?
Would Jesus have just let her daughter stay possessed by a demon? And if Jesus’ healing is all dependent on how much faith someone has (as if faith is measurable), then it’s awfully easy for us to blame the people on our prayer list for being sick. That’s a dangerous place to go.
So rather than trying to defend Jesus in this uncomfortable story, let’s just take it as we have it and wrestle with it.
As Christians, we believe Jesus is at the same time 100% God and 100% human, and we can’t separate his divine nature from his human nature. But there are some stories where one nature seems more clear.
Last week, we heard about Jesus walking on water, demonstrating divine power by doing something no other human could do.
This week, Jesus looks awfully human. He looks a lot like us. We know how easy it can be to ignore people who aren’t like us, to define people as other.
The woman in the story isn’t just a called a Gentile woman, meaning someone who’s not Jewish; Matthew calls her a Canaanite woman. That’s important, because Canaanites aren’t really a thing anymore.
They were the historical enemies of Israel, the people who lived in the promised land before the Israelites showed up. They were the tempters who drew God’s people away from God, until they were eventually wiped out. Choosing to label this woman as a Canaanite makes her a very clear “other,” an enemy.
It’s not too hard to think of people like her today, is it? People who aren’t like us, whether it’s because of where they’re from, or what they look like, or the kind of work they do or don’t do, or what they believe, people who are just different? People who aren’t the ones we need to worry about?
We all know we should be better than to have that kind of thought, but we still do, because we’re all vulnerable to stereotypes and prejudices. We all want to take care of our own people, right?
And when “those other people” start demanding something from us, when they start insisting that they matter, and their children’s lives matter, and they keep shouting and demanding attention, when they persist beyond where we’re comfortable, I can imagine us reacting like the disciples and asking Jesus to send them away, maybe even responding with insults and racial slurs. I’d rather not see it, but I think Jesus’ initial reaction reflects a human nature that’s all too present in the world around us today and even within us.
Look how heroic the woman is in this story, by the way. Look at how she persists in seeking healing for her child. Rejected by the disciples, challenged by Jesus, nevertheless, she persisted. Gentile or not, foreigner or not, social inferior from the wrong side of the river or not, she insists that her child’s life matters.
She’s heard of how Jesus fed a huge crowd and demonstrated the abundance of God’s kingdom, and she demands she be included. She knows who Jesus is, and she insists that he help her.
And then, whether this was a test for her, or a lesson for the disciples, or simply Jesus being persuaded by her persistence and her clever comeback, Jesus yields to her demands. Not only does he do what she wanted and heal her daughter, he openly admires her faith.
His mission expands to include people beyond the boundaries of heritage, nationality, and tradition. As he said earlier to the crowds and the disciples, faith in a person’s heart is what’s important, not following purity laws or traditions. Now he lives out that teaching; and he treats her as a beloved child of God.
Despite all the human obstacles and prejudices set against her, the woman recognizes Jesus as Lord, as the Messiah, and she recognizes God’s grace as greater than anyone expected.
And for you and me, who are not Jewish, who are not part of the original boundaries of God’s chosen people, who rely not on the law but on God’s grace, this inclusion, this expansion is really good news.
May we follow Jesus’ example of growing to where we truly see God’s love is for all people, for the marginalized, the poor, and those whom we see as “other.”
May the Holy Spirit move us to long for and work towards the day when Isaiah’s vision comes to completion and the house of the Lord is truly a house of prayer for all peoples.
May we love as we have been loved. Amen