The Rev. Margaret Watson
St. Margaret's Episcopal Church & School
Isaiah 56:1(2-5) 6-7 | Psalm 67 | Romans 11:13-15, 29-32 | Matthew 15:21-28
Does anything in the Gospel disturb you? Well, it certainly disturbs me! I’m glad my dog isn’t in church this morning. I think his feelings would be hurt; after all, he’s a pound puppy without pedigree. He is a good dog usually. And even when he is a bad dog (like 18 pounds of fluff can ever be bad), I don’t think he would ever have to imagine suffering the humiliation of gathering up the crumbs from under our table. What was Jesus thinking? All my pictures of a nice, welcoming, sensitive, comforting, compassionate Jesus go out the window with this Gospel. And what’s more, it seems as if Jesus is addressing this woman rather callously. He implies she is a dog! And not a dog like my dog, a pampered pet. He is comparing her to a scavenger, a nuisance, a dirty animal, a ferral dog, undeserving of his attention, because this is how dogs were viewed. Is this good news? What can Matthew be thinking in writing this? What are we supposed to do with it?
Fortunately, we have centuries of Biblical interpretation on our side, and
scholars have interpreted what Jesus says to this woman in several ways. One way
that it has been interpreted is that Jesus is testing her faith. In His initial
denial of hearing her, He is testing her to see if she really believes in Him.
Well for us, now, today, I am uncomfortable with the theology of God testing us
because if one is brilliant enough and faithful enough to pass the test, it
means that one has saved one’s own self. And I know one thing for certain, it is
not I who can save myself, but it is Christ who saves me, always. So no tests. I
am also uncomfortable with the idea of testing us because it denies the
completeness of salvation in baptism. So it if is not about a test, what is this
Gospel about?
Another ways scholars have interpreted this Gospel is to examine the idea that
this is one of those times when Jesus realizes more fully who He is, that Jesus
is a man of his day with all of its prejudices and all of its cultural baggage,
and He is converted by her faith. Suddenly He sees clearly what God has in mind
for Him, that He came for the whole world, not just for the children of Israel.
O.K. This Gospel story is situated in Matthew before the story of the
Transfiguration where the Glory of God is fully revealed in the person of Jesus.
So maybe that interpretation can gain some merit. But overall, that
interpretation, that Jesus suddenly sees who He is more clearly, focusing solely
upon the human part of Jesus, a theology that suggests that Jesus was not
all-knowing or all-powerful. Well, I’m uncomfortable with staying there as the
ultimate Good News. There’s got to be more.
Another interpretation purports that the woman’s faith is an example of complete
humility and persistence, that it shows that there has been and there will be
many despised groups that have no rights. But, if they show up and make demands
in complete humility, keeping bold, and seeking relief, God will eventually
listen. MMMMMM! Persistent, humble demands?
All these interpretations, I can accept them, I can understand them but I keep
thinking, there’s got to be more. So if this Gospel is more than a lesson about
tests, and is more than a revelation of who Jesus is to Jesus, and is more than
about making persistent, humble demands, what could it possibly be about?
I’ll name a way. I believe this Gospel is about relationships, about the type of
relationships that God calls us to. This Gospel is about naming out-loud fear
and power. Look at the woman. She is a Canaanite and an outsider, considered a
foreigner even in her own country, a despised, loathed, enemy of Israel. There
has been bad blood between the people of Cana and Israel for centuries. At best,
there had been war, brutality and murder. Not only that, the Canaanites are
descendants of persons known to be inferior. The Canaanites are the descendants
of the grandson of Noah, called Ham, who was a drunk, and who committed great
sexual offense. Look it up. Genesis 9. The Canaanites are enemies, bad people,
from the wrong side of town, without a decent pedigree. They are BAD dogs,
scavengers, dirty animals, undeserving. And here comes a woman from among these
people. She tries to get close to Jesus. Oh, this is bad, really bad. Women
weren’t supposed to talk to men in public. And this woman in particular, comes
up shouting. And she shouts “Lord, Lord Son of David.” Oh this is BAD. Why?
Because in the world at this time if you acknowledged someone as your lord, as
the son of kings, you were acknowledging them as your king. That’s fine isn’t
it? This woman sees the light and sees Jesus as king. Well, yes. But the
kingship this woman was seeking implied mutual obligations. Not only would this
woman owe Jesus absolute fidelity, allegiance duty, labor, but Jesus in return
would owe her support, protection, recognition as one of his own. This is a
power relationship; king and subject, a power relationship built on mutual
obligations and debts, and in the end the king would always have ultimate power.
So here comes this shouting, persistent woman demanding a relationship, calling
him king and what does Jesus do — He turns his head. Worse yet, he does not
respond. He implies, when he does respond, she doesn’t deserve anything from
Him, that she is not a child of God, she is little more than a dog. Why? What
could possibly move Jesus to do this? She saw him as king, didn’t she? Couldn’t
He see what fear, what barriers this woman must have had to overcome to approach
him? Why does he do this to her?
Precisely because this woman has approached Jesus believing or at least
outwardly acknowledging her inferiority, acknowledging that she might be
sub-human in his eyes, Jesus knows that she sees herself as a pound puppy
without pedigree. So Jesus takes that complex baggage of culture and history, of
power relationships, of being a duty bound woman, as being seen as a dog
unworthy of food from his table, he takes all that, turns it inside out, He
gives it voice, He confesses it. He pronounces it out-loud and by naming it, He
makes it powerless. Jesus does this in the same way that He looks at a rich man
and sees what is holding him back from a full relationship with Him and so tells
the young man to go and give all his stuff away. In that same way, Jesus looks
at this woman and sees what is truly holding her back from a full relationship
with Him, and He names it. And it is the same way that Jesus looks at Peter and
sees his stubbornness, Peter’s failure to see his own weaknesses, until at last
he denies that he knows Jesus three times. In that same way, Jesus looks at this
woman and sees the ideas of inferiority and obligation in her relationship with
Him, and all those ideas will hold her back from love. Jesus names it out loud,
and she grasps it. She realizes it. She claims this idea of being sub-human,
this insult of being looked upon as a dog, and she offers it to Him. In doing
so, she can let go of the false power it has. She says it, out-loud before our
Lord.
Jesus helps us all face that in ourselves which imprisons us. Jesus helps us all
name those things which make us believe we are inferior, and those things which
make us believe we are merely dogs without pedigree. Do you know what imprisons
you? Do you know that it is what you believe separates you from God? What others
believe separates you from God? Can you say it out-loud? When we call Jesus,
Lord, Lord, when we enter into relationship with Him, we must be ready to offer
even that to Him. We must name it; we must be ready for unconditional love. When
we as disciples, especially in the church, fall into an inappropriate possession
of false power, when we demand that we are not good enough or that others are
not good enough, that there are some unworthy of Christ, we must be ready for
love. When we call out, “Lord have Mercy,” we must be ready to give up those
very fears and our ideas of what God’s power can do for us. There are no power
relationships with God. Only friends. We must be ready to offer to God those
things we hold onto, indeed the very image of our self — all that defines our
relationship with Him, because he does not desire obligation. He does not desire
debt. He does not desire ultimate power. Jesus’ way is love. This is good news.
We are all imprisoned, all disobedient, all foreigners; we are all bad dogs. And
God loves us. Heals us. All of us, no matter what.
Amen.