Jesus as Learner

Matt 15:21-28, Zech 8:20-23

In Matthew’s gospel as we’ve already seen a number of times the disciples are not viewed in a good light. Much of the time they just don’t get it – remember how I mentioned that Jesus got quite exasperated with them on more than one occasion. They often didn’t share Jesus’ compassion for the needy. They didn’t understand about the bread and how it symbolised God’s gracious blessing. They had to be told again and again that those who were in God’s family extended beyond their tight circle. That the inclusive Kingdom of God included even weeds.

The story that we’ve come to today is a fascinating one: the story of the Canaanite woman, one of the “line of women” that John Bell’s song spoke of, “women who took on powerful men, defying laws and scruples to let life live again”. I’m not sure that John Bell did have the Canaanite woman in mind but she DID take on powerful men, defied laws and scruples for the sake of the life of her child, and as she did so she let us see that on this occasion it was Jesus who didn’t get it, Jesus whose prejudices were exposed, Jesus who had to learn from the encounter.

Actually it is not just a fascinating story, it is quite a shocking one. Last week in our services we reminded ourselves of the Share An Opportunity program of Baptist World Aid, and we heard about the love and care shown to children and communities in the Philippines in the name of Jesus who had said “let the children come to me”. But in today’s reading we hear of Jesus ignoring a desperate mother! We hear of him dismissing her on the basis of her race. We hear him referring to her as a dog – surely an insult in any language. What is going on?

Some feminist commentaries insist on using a name for this woman – the name she received in the ongoing tradition, because they say it perpetuates the prejudice against women when they are left nameless in their stories. But if we really read this story honestly and compare the woman with Jesus you can rest assured she will stick in your mind.

As she kneels before him saying “Lord, help me” he says “it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs”. Yes, Jesus really did say that. Now there is one interpretation that allows us to view this answer with some degree of sympathy. In Mark’s version of the story the woman is called a Greek woman of Syro-phonecian origin – in other words a member of the small upper class in that area of the Roman Empire. The Galilean people Jesus belonged to were exploited by the elite of the Roman empire. They had to provide bread for the rich cities, even when they didn’t have enough for themselves and their families. Why would they be willing to take bread from their own children and give it to strangers? This woman might be asking for help, but she’s one of those rich foreigners who had already plundered the land of the Galileans and made them helpless. There is a history of bitterness in the background and perhaps Jesus who grew up against that background was unconsciously motivated by this history. But even so, it doesn’t fit with the Jesus we usually see in the gospel – he usually bends over backwards to include “the other” – often at the risk of disapproval and misunderstanding.

But the woman won’t take no for an answer. As the story goes on we hear her persistence and her quick and clever replies.

And her continued use of the metaphor of bread to the dogs continues to shock the careful reader, especially in light of the stories about bread throughout the gospel as we talked about recently. The crumbs she refers to - literally bits of bread - were used to wipe the hands at the end of the meal – so not only is she asking for the spare food from the Israelite table but pre-used food fit only for animals. She turns the metaphor back on herself showing she was willing to accept even an insult if it meant getting what she desired – the health of her daughter.

So finally Jesus turns to her, acknowledges her, and says to her “O woman, great is your faith. Let what you wish for happen for you.” Similar words were used when Jesus addressed the centurion (8:13) and again when he addressed the woman with the flow of blood (9:22). All three are stories of people who crossed boundaries to ask for Jesus help. And we should also notice that since this story comes soon after the story of Peter walking on the water, Jesus’ words to the woman are in contrast to his words to Peter – “you of little faith, why did you doubt?” The story once again contrasts the insiders to the outsiders. Who gets it? Who best understands the grace of God? This woman does not accept the boundaries of laws and scruples but creates new space for herself; new possibilities beyond the boundaries. And isn’t that a fair definition of God’s grace?

In this gospel story the Canaanite woman has a prophetic role! We read a passage from Zechariah earlier. This prophet was at work in the post-exilic period, the time when Jerusalem was being re-established and the temple rebuilt. We know from the books of Ezra and Nehemiah that this new Jerusalem community had the tendency to be very exclusive. Foreign wives were to be put away. Strangers were not tolerated. Those of mixed race background were not allowed in the temple. Only the pure descendents of King David were welcome. But Zechariah brought a new word to this community in Jerusalem – a word about creating new space for the nations. “Many peoples and strong nations will come to seek the Lord of hosts in Jerusalem, and to entreat the favour of the Lord.” And when Zechariah talks of “ten men from nations of every language” he is consciously creating a worshipping community from these foreigners – ten Israelite men were needed to constitute a synagogue. And here we have a Canaanite woman representing these peoples and nations, seeking the Lord, entreating his favour. And as she did so, not giving up in the face of rebuff, she became “a prophetic teacher who brought Jesus himself to a new understanding of his mission.” She reminded him of his offer recorded earlier in the gospel “come to me all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens” (Matt 11:28). She challenged him to allow her to benefit from the crumbs of his ministry, even if he wouldn’t see her as one of his own children. And I think he was probably brought up short. It is a risky story for the gospels to preserve, because it doesn’t show Jesus in a good light. It achieves its point at the expense of Jesus' perhaps unconscious prejudices. And yet its redeeming feature is its redeeming feature. If we read the story from its end, from its acclamation of the woman’s great faith, we understand its message. At the beginning there is discrimination. At the end the despised is affirmed. In fact at the end it fits in with the theme of the whole of Matthew’s Gospel - Women and Gentiles are affirmed already in the genealogy of Chapter 1. What a message – that Jesus is ready to learn from women and Gentiles and include them in the realms of God’s grace!

I came across an imaginative letter written to this Canaanite woman and reflecting on the story. Let me read it to you:

Dear Canaanite Sister,

You go girl! I’ve never seen anyone talk to Jesus like that.

I heard you first, before I saw you. You were screaming, crying, crying out, wailing in that Emergency Room of yours that doubles as a road through Tyre and Sidon. So foreign it all is. What were you doing there? What was Jesus doing there? You would tell him. "Have mercy on me, Son of David," you said. "My daughter… my daughter is tormented by a demon."

The disciples wondered if the demon didn't have hold of you, too. You kept shouting. They asked Jesus to dismiss you. He ignored them. But he ignored you too, and some of us who know him found his silence even more disturbing than your cries.

Then he spoke, and things got worse. "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel," he said. At that point, I would have gotten angry. "Sent only to Israel, huh? Then what the hell are you doing in Tyre? Need a map, Mister Omniscient Son of God?"

Did you teach the Teacher? "Lord, help me," you said, instead of fussing about who was out of place. To which you heard, "It is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs."

You were kneeling when he said this, kneeling in a posture of worship, praying when he said you were a dog.

Was it that place below the action that told you what to say next? "Yes Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." I'm down here looking for just a little. "My daughter…. Have mercy…. Crumbs."

Did you teach the Teacher? Yes, I'm sure you did. Because of you and your fierce need, Jesus himself came to see his life’s work as bigger than before. What he had not thought to look for in anyone like you, he saw: faith. He saw your tenacious conviction that he could help, and amazed, he did.

I have thought that fear makes it impossible to imagine things. "Perfect fear casts out all imagination," I have thought. But you were afraid—you must have been afraid of the demon and of your daughter’s suffering. You could be afraid and see a new thing—healing—at the same time. You saw it and you showed it to Jesus and the rest of us.

What else will you help us see? Will you help us see the work of God going on for us in places where we don’t belong? Will you help us see a stranger on the road, out of place himself, who certainly can help? Will you help us see the loaf that is enough for children and for dogs? Will you help us see these things when we are terrified? You taught the Teacher. What will you teach us? (Mary Hinkle, www.textweek.com)

The Victorian professor of religion and writer on spirituality David Tacey suggests in one of his books that we meet ‘possibilities we have never dared to dream of when we allow God to speak to us through strangers.’ This is one of the great gifts we have when we welcome and assist refugees who come amongst us. Last night a number of us met with the Afghan families and had a great night of wonderful food and fun together. And as church communities in Canberra we have the chance again in a fortnight to celebrate Refugee Sunday by joining together with over a meal and a time of sharing.

But there is something else for us to notice in this story of the Canaanite woman. We sometimes fall into the trap of letting our friendship have strings attached when we are interacting with others. In this and the parallel stories I’ve already mentioned – the centurion whose servant was healed (8:6) and the woman with the flow of blood (9:22) their faith was affirmed but we were not told they became followers of Jesus. Like Jesus, we need to learn to be willing to share our stories of God’s grace with strangers, to break down the boundaries and create new space for healing and friendship. But our encounters may not result in conversion to our viewpoint. A couple of weeks ago our church’s OHP was repaired by a contact of Ross Gurney who works in Fyshwick. The gentleman refused to accept full payment as he saw it as a service to our church community that he was happy to do. Ross and I wrote a letter of thanks on behalf of the church and during the week I had a phone call from the man – to say there was no need to thank him as he was very happy to do this work for Jesus. He said, “I am a Muslim but I have much respect for Jesus”. I felt humbled by his kindness and his insistence that I understood his motives.

Two final things to notice from this story.

One is the focus on households. We often speak of the Kingdom of God but an image I have long been drawn to is the “Household of God” – a place where all are welcomed as family, where all belong, where food and shelter and affirmation are offered. A house which is constantly being expanded to welcome in new members.

There are different households spoken of in this passage. There is the household of the Canaanite woman and her daughter – a foreign household characterised by dire need, the illness of demon possession. The woman comes OUT of this house and shouts after Jesus. He seems to be committed to a different household – “I was sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel”. In this household - a hierarchical, monarchical establishment - there are definite insiders and outsiders: children may eat but the dogs are left outside. But the woman reminds Jesus with her words of another house in the biblical tradition, the House of wisdom that we read of a few weeks ago – where the owner offers an inclusive invitation: “come and eat of my bread” (Prov 9), “fill yourselves with rich things” (Is 55) In this household children and strangers can eat together, both at the master’s table. In this household God’s desire for humanity is life in all its fullness, and so what the woman asks for is done – her daughter is healed. In this household, the crumbs are important.

And this is the last thing to notice. Crumbs and scraps are important. This story offers an image of humility, and it calls for humility on our part as we read it. The woman kneels and accepts insults for the sake of the love of her daughter. Jesus learns from her faith and commends it, and willingly offers God’s grace beyond the house of Israel. We need to be challenged by the humility both of the Canaanite woman and of Jesus, and be reminded to be faithful people in little things.

I’ve been sharing some poetry with you over the past few weeks, and I want to leave another two poems with you now.

The first is a poem of Michael Leunig that I heard at a recent ecumenical service. I wrote it down as I heard it so it may not be entirely accurate but you will get the sense of it.

We must make do with scraps

Little scraps of peace and quiet

hope, conversations, handshakes

all in dribs and drabs.

A few crumbs of fun

a tiny flake of beauty

one teaspoon of courage

a snippet of eye contact

a snippet of hospitality

a snippet of patience.

Off cuts of each other

A skerrick of community

a bit of a kiss

a shred of honour

a wisp of good humour

a sample of compassion

Leftovers.

Remnants of the glorious situation.

A fragment of God.

And the last is a poem by Gunilla Norris – who has written a whole litany on the process of preparing and celebrating bread in the communion meal. This part comes after the distribution, it is called “Crumbs”.

Be careful with the crumbs.

Do not overlook them.

Be careful with the crumbs:

the tiny chances to love,

the tiny gestures, the morsels

that feed, the minims.

Take care of the crumbs:

a look, a laugh, a smile,

a teardrop, an open hand. Take care

of the crumbs. They are food also.

Do not let them fall.

Gather them. Cherish them.