Matthew 15:21-28
Have you ever been called an offensive name? Unfortunately, it seems this is part of life for most everyone. From grade school taunts, to slander in the heat of debate, to dysfunctional family chides and labeling … name-calling happens. When it happens, angry defensiveness and underlying shame usually do the tango. Even when we forgivingly dismiss whatever word we were verbally slapped with, it never fails to leave some mark on the relationship it spawned from.
Given this hurtful aspect of human nature, were you shocked by our Scripture passage this morning? If you read and listened to it carefully, then you didn’t miss the name calling. It’s a particularly ugly bit of it too because it is not directed at someone acting offensively or arrogantly. It is directed instead at an anxious, grieving mom making a desperate appeal on behalf of her spiritually tormented daughter. It’s quite offensive to slander someone in crisis who is only reaching out for help!
And what makes this incident from our holy pages downright shocking is that the name caller is … Jesus. What was His reply to this woman begging him to heal her daughter? Our Lord calls her a “dog.”
That His disciples want to ignore and quickly dismiss her isn’t as disturbing – there are other instances when they come across as missing the heart and soul of their commission and when we read it, we know Jesus is going to correct them. But Jesus? Sure He once name called the Pharisees a “brood of vipors.” But that was the voice of prophet holding tradition bearer’s accountable. And sure He once labeled Peter “Satan,” but again, that also was about threat to faithful fidelity. What on earth did this mom do to warrant being called a “dog” – a demeaning, dismissive slang term -- by our Lord?
It seems she didn’t do anything except live her life in the region of Tyre and Sidon. These cities were in foreign territory, territory tied to Caananite tribes. A quick review of the Old Testament – of how Noah cursed his grandson, named Caanan, and on through various military conquests beginning with Joshua – reveals that Israelites regarded the beliefs and overall culture of the Caananites as abominable. This Caananite woman was thus generally regarded as impure, as an enemy even, in the culture of Jesus and his disciples.
How very curious, then, that Jesus, who was at that point in his flesh and bone ministry very near to the crisis of His crucifixion, chose to retreat from the demanding crowds all around Galilee by entering into Caananite turf. Most scholars I’ve read suggest this was because He was exhausted and figured to catch a breather from a population who would not hope in Him as their Messiah. If this was indeed the case, Jesus totally underestimated how far his fame as a healer had spread. It had grown great … so very great … that it had fallen off the master table of ministry in Jerusalem and was found by this foreign mother so hungry for a morsel of miracle.
Whatever had convinced her to place great faith in Jesus, she did so completely undeterred by the name calling. She was not for a moment concerned about historic bad blood between peoples, or even being labeled as unworthy of being listened to. Parents fighting for the lives of their children are typically immune to such unproductive talk. She focused firmly on just one thing – her family’s need for the mercy of the God whom Jesus represented. So she pleaded, and she did so with great worshipful shouts using the traditional language of Israelite culture – “Have mercy on me, Lord, son of David!”
Perhaps Jesus’ uncaring response was indeed because of his exhaustion. That’s a fine enough way to justify it – haven’t we all spoken the wrong words at times when we were emotionally and physically fried? I know my daughters are well aware that after 8:45 p.m. on any given night, their tired dad can be a lot less lovingly hinged together.
My study and prayer about this passage over this past week, however, leads me more to believe that Jesus was instead once again making the most of an opportunity to teach about the full saving grace he had been born to give to the entire world.
Keep in mind, our tale of her dogged faith took place well within earshot of His disciples. We can imagine him calling her a “dog” with a little knowing glint in His compassionate eyes as he labeled her the narrow way they saw her. And keep in mind, or become newly aware of, that scholars believe the original hearers of Matthew’s account of the life and times of Jesus were overwhelmingly Jewish and thus Jesus is primarily presented in this Gospel as a profound interpreter of the old Mosaic Law.[i]
So I believe this teaching moment was a two-fold test -- one that challenged his closest followers to hold in check their cultural prejudices while at the same time giving the mom an opportunity to express the fervent faith Jesus greatly wanted from His followers.
Her sincere, praise-full pleading did not disappoint Him. After respectfully, faithfully referring to Him as “Lord” three times she turned the derogatory comment on directly on its head. She did so by declaring that even the “dogs” need the spilled crumbs from the Master’s table. What a profound, humble and wise observation this was. And it delighted Jesus to such a great degree that he performed the miracle without delay!
What this unnamed woman teaches all of is how to follow Jesus with dogged faith. If you haven’t caught on, I’m enjoying a little word play with this terminology, and further with the full sermon title. I do so to reinforce that there are times in people’s lives when simple, implicit trust in the mercy of God to cast away dark realities may not be quite enough. There are times, complete crises, when faithful expression needs to be full-on worshipfully petitioned, cried for with culture-rattling determination to be heard, to be radically synched up with verbal professions of belief.
Having dogged faith means having an unflappable trust in the all-inclusive, ever-present mercy of our Lord.
It is faith that does not take any given situation at face value, but instead considers it at full faith value.
It is faith always at the ready to be challenged and taught bold and holy truth by Jesus, through His Spirit that is very actively present in each of our hearts and all across this world.
Where, today, are there voices crying out for holy mercy? Voices we modern day disciples can faithfully hear as an appeal to our Lord for help? Where, especially, are the voices of those we may be sinfully tempted to dismiss as offensive outsiders best left on their own to deal with their own troubles?
If you have been following world news, you know well that many merciful, miraculous morsels from the Master’s table are needed in Southern Somalia, on the horn of Africa. Hundreds of thousands of Somalis are suffering from famine due to a drought. No relief of these life-killing conditions, of death by excruciatingly slow starvation, is expected until we are enjoying our next Christmas and New Year’s celebrations. The famine has created a huge number of people fleeing from pastoral areas into the war-torn capital city of Mogadishu. It has also caused a massive number of refugees – with more than 55,000 fleeing across the borders of Ethiopia and Kenya this past June alone. Just this morning, shortly after I woke up and turned on CNN, I found myself sadly surveying a refugee camp with Dr. Sanjay Gupta.
Are we disciples of Jesus hearing the voices of these, our mostly Muslim neighbors? Are we giving faithful attention to all of that crying out for crumbs? The loudest cries hit my ears through the silence of photos showing starving, dying children. Seeing them in hi-resolution on my computer laptop screen – even more than on television -- is a particularly loud plea for help. As always, there are political and other ideological entanglements that go with such disasters. As usual, I’m not one to get into those from the pulpit. I prefer, as ever, to first and foremost enter into prayer … prayer that many people’s dogged faith will respond to this crisis.
Our denomination’s Presbyterian Disaster Assistance response so far has been to provide $100,000 of One Great Hour of Sharing funds to meet immediate, basic humanitarian needs and offer life-saving measures. We take up collection for One Great Hour of Sharing during Lent and Easter, so FPC has already offered some measures of help. The PDA team is responding as part of the ACT Alliance, an organization of 111 churches and church-based groups founded in 2010 and currently working in 130 countries.[ii] I’ve included in your bulletin one way for you to give more financial assistance if you feel moved to do so. In addition to the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance there are also a good number of other humanitarian agencies actively serving this disaster. On the PDA website there is a reminder about what needs to come first that is worth quoting – “Our best response is prayer. 1 Thessalonians implores us to pray without ceasing, so your prayers are requested above all else. Please pray for families who are hungry, thirsty, displaced, or need medical care because of this crisis. Also pray for the people responding to the disaster, and for those whose lives are closely linked to both the disaster survivors and the workers who minister to them.”
Greatly inspired by this morning’s tale of dogged faith, today turns out to be a time for name calling after all. I’m going to name-call myself and name-call all of you. I’m going to do so now using powerfully evocative names like “disciple,” “servant,” “missionary,” “steward,” “neighbor,” “friend,” “child of God.” I do so for the sake and to the glory of Jesus, the Good Shepherd of all. Amen.
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