SERMON FOR AUGUST 16, 2020     TEXT: MATTHEW 15:[10-20], 21-28
    The placement of today’s Gospel story in Matthew’s narrative is significant. Last Sunday we heard about Jesus walking across the water in the midst of a storm. Peter tries to do the same and, distracted by the strong wind, starts to sink beneath the waves. He cries out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately stretches out his hand to rescue him, saying, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” Jesus and the disciples then land at Gennesaret, where once again they are mobbed by needy crowds. Matthew writes, “. . . they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed” (14:35-6). 
     The next scene is a confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees and scribes. They are offended by the disciples’ failure to wash their hands before eating, which breaks with established religious tradition. Jesus turns the tables on them, pointing out their willingness to violate God’s commandment in favor of their human traditions. He denounces them as hypocrites and then publicly puts them in their place. This is the passage immediately preceding today’s Gospel: “Then [Jesus] called the crowd to him and said to them, ‘Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.’ Then the disciples approached and said to him, ‘Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what you said?’ He answered, ‘Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted. Let them alone; they are blind guides of the blind. And if one blind person guides another, both will fall into a pit.’ But Peter said to him, ‘Explain this parable to us.’ Then he said, ‘Are you also still without understanding? Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth enters the stomach, and goes out into the sewer? But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile’” (15:10-20). Immediately afterwards Jesus departs for the district of Tyre and Sidon, where he is accosted by the Canaanite woman. 
     And what a scene ensues! A consummate outsider in Jesus’ culture — a woman and a Gentile — starts shouting at him. And she is not just any Gentile. The specification of her ethnicity is important. As historians point out, in Jesus’ day the land of Canaan no longer existed as a political entity; it had been claimed by the Israelites as the Promised Land centuries earlier. The term “Canaanite” identifies the woman as an indigenous person. The label taps into memories of bitter historical conflicts and deeply-held prejudice. If you have been sent specifically to serve the house of Israel, a Canaanite woman would be at the very bottom of the list of those for whom you might make an exception. 
     Loud though the woman may be, Jesus at first renders her invisible. “‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.’ But he did not answer her at all.” The disciples clamor for Jesus to send her away. His first statement, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” is directed to them and implies that he is taking their side. Indeed, he does them one better. Jesus does not even acknowledge her presence. He refuses to engage and dismisses her by his silence. A friend of mine observed that is is “[n]ot surprising that the resulting picture of Jesus and his response is so troubling that many interpreters have sought to soften or explain away the clear and direct language of the text.” 
     Here is one example of that kind of interpretive move: “Cold print does not allow us to detect a quizzical eyebrow or a tongue in cheek, and it may be that Jesus’ demeanor already hinted that his discouraging reply was not to be his last word on the subject. Need we assume that when eventually the woman won the argument Jesus was either dismayed or displeased? May this not rather have been the outcome he intended from the start? A good teacher may sometimes aim to draw out a pupil’s best insight by a deliberate challenge which does not necessarily represent the teacher’s own view.” 
     I once allowed for such an interpretation but no longer, and for two very personal reasons. First, I was for several decades a teacher. If the Canaanite woman is the student in this drama, she hardly needed to be put through her paces in a verbal fencing match to be brought to her “best insight”. From the get-go she knows who she is dealing with; she calls Jesus “Lord” and “Son of David.” She kneels before him in an act of reverence and submission. She pleads with him for mercy because she believes in his power to heal and trusts in his generosity to care. What more does she have to get right to pass the test? And if the real students in need of instruction are the disciples, it is pedagogical abuse to turn the encounter into a teachable moment for them at her expense.  And secondly, I am the mother of a daughter who suffered; I have followed in this woman’s footsteps of desperation, hope and persistence. That was life lesson enough.
     So we have this hue and cry — the woman beseeching Jesus, kyrie eleison, “Lord, have mercy,” and the disciples responding with their demand to him, “send her away.” Then at her second approach, down on her knees pleading, “Lord, help me,” Jesus responds to her directly. In the exchange about dogs and crumbs he reiterates the exclusive priority of his ministry, the children of Israel. Remember the story of the feeding of the five thousand, just one chapter earlier in Matthew’s Gospel. After Jesus had cured their sick, he blessed five loaves and two fish. The disciples distributed them, and all ate and were filled, with twelve baskets of leftovers. The children were fed with plenty to spare. The woman is not trying to deflect Jesus from his mission. She asks for just crumbs, not even missed by those who have abundance, and yet enough to restore her daughter and her life. Jesus has healed multitudes; why so stingy now?
     When my daughter Lucy was little, I reminded her daily to pick her things up. The floor was the dogs’ territory, and whatever of interest they found there, they claimed for themselves. Those of you who have dogs know how carefully they patrol the dining area, on the lookout for the soft touch who will slip them a treat or the messy eater who drops stuff. Well-trained ones will keep their distance while you are eating, but when the meal is over, the canines are sure to find what hit the deck. Our Beagle Cher was not particularly responsive to her mistress’ commands, and Lucy was convinced that Cher was a stupid dog. But I pointed out that Cher was a discerning, if willful, dog, who generally got what she wanted. She was observant and not to be distracted; when the goal mattered to her, she was, well, “dogged.” I don’t know what exactly Jesus had in mind when he compared the Canaanite woman to a dog, but she was quick to turn it to her advantage. Dogs are persistent, and their persistence is rewarded. They do indeed eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table. 
     At this point the intolerant disciples have faded from view. Jesus now fixes his attention on the woman he initially discounted. Up until now the boys’ performance has never rated better than a “you of little faith.” But she moves the Lord to exclaim, “Woman, great is your faith!” Just before the encounter Jesus told the disciples, “[W]hat comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions . . . .”  She shouts, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David, my daughter is tormented by a demon,” and their response is, “Get rid of her.” There is definitely work to be done among these lost sheep of the House of Israel. 
     Remember the words of Simeon to Mary, when the infant Jesus was presented in the temple: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the thoughts of many will be revealed . . . .” (Luke 2:34-5). Perhaps Jesus was caught unawares by what was revealed in this encounter. Perhaps he had the human experience of confronting his community’s inherited prejudice and moving beyond it. Certainly the boundaries have shifted. The One who claimed to be “sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” has moved beyond those confines because of this outsider, who by her faith is now one of His own. What begins with the House of Israel cannot remain there. The circle is destined to expand  beyond every division of race, gender, nationality or class. When the risen Jesus entrusts his ministry to his disciples, he charges them to make disciples of all nations.  This Canaanite mother is a sign of the great things to come. Amen.