Have you ever had the experience of shaking hands with someone and they
were already looking for someone else before they let your hand drop,
as if you were obstructing their view? I remember visiting a
church on a vacation and as soon as the pastor found out that we were
not prospective new members, he began to glance around the room as if
there were shiny apples to pick, while we stood there like a tree whose
fruit had already dropped. I was tempted to stand there and ask a
question that would require a long answer, “Tell me the history of your church,” or “How do you
organize your committees?” but instead I let go of the dead-fish
handshake and shook the dust off my feet on the way out.
No one likes to be overlooked. Imagine being overlooked all the
time because of what you look like. You are passed over for a job
interview because of the color of your skin, you don’t get the
promotion you deserve because you are a woman, no one will give you a
chance because you are too old or too young. If you have been
written off or overlooked when someone doesn’t even know you or the
content of your character, you can understand the plight of the
Canaanite woman in the Gospel of Matthew. I imagine being
overlooked is a way of life for her. Even in the Gospel lesson
she does not get a name. In Mark's Gospel her origins are
hyphenated as a Syro-Phoenician. If you have to say you are
Native American or African American or Italian American, then you
already know you are feeling out of the mainstream. People who
feel in the mainstream don’t feel the need to say they are a British
American or White American.
For this woman to even approach Jesus, she has broken several social
taboos. She is a Gentile approaching a Jew. If you grew up
Protestant like I have, do you remember the first time you went into a
Catholic church? The strange smells of incense, the sudden moves
from standing and sitting, the awkwardness of having to kneel, feeling
the painful exclusion of not being able to participate in communion,
all these symbols of feeling like you don’t belong. You may have
grown up in a Catholic or Protestant home where attending the other
church or inter-marriage would lead to being disowned, out of the will
or even eternal damnation. The boundaries between Jew and Gentile
in Jesus day were pronounced, possibly like the boundaries between
Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland or the mutual suspicion
between the two faiths in 19th Century America as leading Protestant
preachers stoked the fear of the Pope in their sermons.
(Hopefully we have made a little progress now.)
This Canaanite was also a woman approaching a group of men. We
are far removed from the male-female boundaries of Jesus's day.
But we do know some about how rigid male and female boundaries are in
much of the Middle East and Islamic nations today. As we read
stories in Newsweek of women in birkas, constricted to the home, we may
get some idea of what the Canaanite woman risked to talk to Jesus in
public. She was the first of many woman to break that taboo and
seek Jesus out of desperation. Remember the woman that touched
the hem of Jesus garment? She didn't dare call out to Jesus and
was fearful when he came back to see her. Normally, the husband
of the family would go out and make such requests. Where was this
woman's husband?
Race, nation and socio-economics also intrude. Jews were wary of
the residents of the Phoenician cities of Tyre and Sidon. The
inhabitants are described by the Jewish historian Josephus as
"notoriously our bitterest enemies." In that day the poor rural
Jewish peasants of Galilee grew food for the rich Gentile cities like
Tyre and Sidon. We do not know the social class of this Canaanite
woman, but she would have been seen as coming from the culture of
Jewish oppressors. Imagine a white, Anglo Saxon Protestant
American going and begging an Imam at a Mosque for help with their
situation.
Everything seems to be working against this woman-gender, race,
religion, class and nationalism-to find help for her daughter. It
must have been quite the spectacle to have her throw herself at the
feet of Jesus. Disciples and spectators alike must have been
embarrassed to have her there. She must have been driven by
desperation. Maybe now we can better understand Christ’s original
negative response, when he says, “Let the children be fed first
(referring to Jews) for it is not fair to give the children’s bread to
the dogs.” There is no getting around the fact that Jesus has
just “dissed” her. Jews considered dogs to be scavengers and
unclean animals. Every reference to dogs in the Bible is negative
(much to the despair of dog lovers like me!).
For a moment she is turned away by a great spiritual leader, which to
many would feel like they were being turned away by God. That’s
why it is so hard when our feelings get hurt in church. We expect
to experience the sacred grace of God when we come to church or
approach a minister, and if we are hurt or overlooked for the moment,
then it effects our core spirit. Where else will we find the
sacred in our lives? This is what disturbs us in this Gospel
Lesson. How could Jesus compare anyone to a dog or say a thing
like that? This story hits us in a place of fear that maybe God
finds us to be really annoying. We don’t belong, we don’t deserve
the bread, others are more important.
The great thing about this woman is that she seems unfazed by
everything working against her and quips back at Jesus, “Yes, but even
the dogs under the table deserve the crumbs.” This is a woman who
understood the power of God’s grace, a woman who believed so much that
she knew a crumb from Jesus would suffice. And imagine, she
wasn’t even on the church membership rolls! This is the only
place I can find in the Gospels where someone won a theological
argument with Jesus. He tied the wisest biblical scholars in
knots, but not this woman. Maybe that’s what Jesus wanted her to
do all along. If he had just healed her daughter at her request,
the disciples would have been appalled and probably missed the point,
but how much more dramatic to lose a theological argument to a Gentile
and then heal her daughter. This unnamed woman gives us a
wonderful example of how to approach God with both humility and
confidence, deference and boldness, a grounded trust in God’s grace
despite all the human obstacles that stand in the way of relationship.
This text prepares us to come to the communion table. How do you
come to this table? Do you come as a confident insider like the
disciples and simply assume God's favor? Or do you come wondering
where you stand with God, longing for the divine presence, yet feeling
like an outsider?
We come to the table as God’s children. We are getting the bread
on top of the table, not crumbs off the floor. When you receive
this morsel of bread handed to you on a silver platter, do you know the
power of what you hold in your hand? This bread is a gift of
grace that says God has not overlooked you. No matter what your
gender, race, political affiliation, ethnic background, sexual
orientation or any other human boundary that divides, God still
searches your innermost thoughts and loves you. Eating of this
bread is accepting this wondrous gift of God’s love and believing that
it will heal your life just as surely as the Canaanite's daughter was
healed.
And if this bread heals your life, who else might it feed? Does
God’s grace stop when we overlook someone else? Do we give other
people crumbs when we should be inviting them to the same table where
we get our spiritual sustenance? This bread of life is not a
scarce commodity to be jealously guarded or eaten only in times of
crisis. God's banquet table is abundant, there is enough for you
and more than enough left over to invite others. Come to the
table now, receive this bread and be reconnected with God, receive this
cup and be reconciled and whole with one another.
Matthew 15: 21-28 "Overlooked and Under-Considered" for Sunday, August 14, 2005
November 21, 2005
Posted to: |
Comments
Re: Matthew 15: 21-28 "Overlooked and Under-Considered" for Sunday, August 14, 2005
by
Anonymous
at 06:49AM (EDT) on Aug 14, 2005 | Permanent Link
How often do people expect the clergy to "win"
theological arguments? (Answer: all the time!) It keeps the world set
right in the fantasyland of the parish. After all, that's why we hired
the professional, it is thought. We as clergy would do well to "lose" a
few more theological arguments for the sake of winning a better
collective understanding of God's heart.
Re: Re: Matthew 15: 21-28 "Overlooked and Under-Considered" for Sunday, August 14, 2005
by
bloomingcactus
at 10:27AM (EDT) on Aug 15, 2005 | Permanent Link
I think my congregation liked hearing that my theology and my relationship with God is always a work in progress.
At times, the most faithful thing to do is to preach the paradoxes of life. William Sloan Coffin often said, "Theology is
the signpost, but love is the hitching post."
At times, the most faithful thing to do is to preach the paradoxes of life. William Sloan Coffin often said, "Theology is
the signpost, but love is the hitching post."
Re: Matthew 15: 21-28 "Overlooked and Under-Considered" for Sunday, August 14, 2005
by
Anonymous
at 07:16AM (EDT) on Aug 14, 2005 | Permanent Link
I am reminded of a film (which I unfortunately
did not see) called John Q (Denzel Washington, 2002) where a father who
cannot afford a heart transplant for his dying son takes the emergency
room of a hospital hostage in hopes of getting his son on the donor
list. I saw the trailer at www.iamjohnq.com. Whoah! Maybe this will
help some folks get in touch with how desperate the Canaanite woman was
in trying to find healing for her child.
Allen
Allen
Re: Re: Matthew 15: 21-28 "Overlooked and Under-Considered" for Sunday, August 14, 2005
by
bloomingcactus
at 10:32AM (EDT) on Aug 15, 2005 | Permanent Link
Allen,
I remember how powerful that movie was. I agree, "John Q" really can bring home the desperation a parent can feel
for a sick child. Feeling the scripture at that level brings the message home. Thanks for the illistration.
I remember how powerful that movie was. I agree, "John Q" really can bring home the desperation a parent can feel
for a sick child. Feeling the scripture at that level brings the message home. Thanks for the illistration.