Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

‍I was reflecting on our capacity to change our minds, to respond to new circumstances and new information which require us to see things differently, to look at the world with fresh eyes, to see someone and listen to their opinion, truly hear it and change the way we think, talk and act.  So often we struggle with change, resist its potential and block our capacity to stretch and be stretched.

The story about the Canaanite woman in Matthew’s Gospel (15:21-28) challenges us all on many levels.  In Mark’s gospel this story is about a Syrophoenician woman but both places of origin, are outside of Jesus’ usual neighbourhood as he also travels to Tyre and Sidon.  As I think about how we behave when we see ‘foreigners’, who are different, don’t belong, haven’t yet been accepted, don’t yet belong, we need to realise in this story, Jesus is also a foreigner travelling with his disciples.  He’s the stranger, and he’s imported his own expectations for where he is and what God has called him to do.  The disciples have their own ideas of ‘who’s in or out’ as well.  The woman is behaving ‘badly’ in their opinion, shouting and attracting attention to them as well as herself.  She’s not discrete, and she’s wanting help which Jesus and his disciples did not want to give.  She wasn’t the right race, faith, gender and she was demanding and insistent about her sick daughter.  It’s not a pretty, gentle encounter.  

And as you listened to the woman’s story, I wonder whether you are identifying with the woman, the disciples, or Jesus or all of them.  Where are you in the story?

The disciples urge Jesus with great emphasis, to send her on her way.  She’s embarrassing them and attracting far too much attention. When people behave like the woman, who are insistent with us, in our face – as we would say today; we often quickly become politely, but righteously outraged at their lack of manners, their lack of courtesy and appropriate form of address and behaviour.  They clearly don’t know our rules.  

The homeless and the poor today probably fit this category, perhaps those who are recent arrivals in this country, possibly young people and children, who behave differently to when we were their age and don’t know how to behave with us as elders.  The encounters we have are measured by an internal yardstick set in place over decades of privilege, a measure we apply to judge and decide whether to get closer to the person or to back off and resist.   We find ways to justify our chosen or instinctive response.  And today we can send letters of disapproval – in the old days, I remember being told about a ‘stiff letter to The Times’ - nowadays its a prompt email to express our opinion and expecting a quick reply and change of course, and we expect to hold fast to our standards and expect the ‘other’ to comply.

If the persistent poor behaviour continues, we have a choice!  We can turn and walk away, or we can sit and listen, find out why this is happening, and be prepared to change our position, our tone of voice, our willingness to adjust.   There’s that moment where we decide to let God into the space of generosity, openness and vulnerability or retreat to our safe place and leave God out of the relationship.

Jesus stopped to listen – he had no choice – she fell on her knees in front of him, asking for his help.   He would have had to step around her and that action sounds like a step too far!  So, he stopped, and had a conversation with her, convinced about the righteousness of his decision to reject her and exclude her from his, God’s future. And the conversation was rude, provocative, and he intended to bite and be decisive to end the interaction.

‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel’.  Jesus said, with his disciples looking on, listening and agreeing.   

She refused to budge.  ‘Lord help me.’

Jesus responded bluntly: ‘It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ 

In other words, you don’t fit, you’re not welcome, you’re not part of the plan, you don’t belong.

She persisted because of her love and care for her daughter, because she saw something in Jesus that gave her courage to stay in the conversation, and she didn’t give up.  The determination which had brought her to this encounter, all she had heard about him, meant she was going to stay until she got what she wanted.  She said:

Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.

Jesus finally listened, saw, understood and changed his direction, his message to the world; and his love for her broke through his earlier judgement of her.  It is powerful, powerful stuff. Jesus could have continued limiting his trajectory of faith and belief, to exclude rather than include, which he was stating initially to the woman.  He could have continued to say: I am not here to make a difference for you or for anyone who is not a Jew.  

This story invites us to ponder and reflect how we encounter God in the ‘other’.  How do we react to those who say we are not good enough, not right enough; when we are not doing what they want, and we realise we will likely never be enough, so will never belong?  Because asking them, the ‘insiders’, to change is clearly too outrageous, unreasonable and shows you don’t belong.

Rowan Williams, a previous Archbishop of Canterbury reminded us, as God is in each of us, when we encounter the ‘other’, we are encountering God uniquely.  When we truly look at someone else and see them, we can see God in their eyes.  Our treatment of God in response to God’s invitation to be stretched, to be different, to change and not resist or remain stuck in old habits of thinking and acting, then becomes the issue. Always. Jesus is tipped back into himself, into God in that moment. He is able to reflect and see the impact of his words on the woman and her ill daughter and know it is not good enough and it is he who has to change: and because God is love, God responds.

‘Woman, great is your faith!  Let it be done for you as you wish.’

The Canaanite woman wished with all her heart, body and soul and strength, and with all her faith, for her daughter to be healed, restored and when Jesus did this immediately without any expectations being placed upon her in return, her own life too was made well. She was trusted, accepted and blessed.  Such a gift of generosity, faith, kindness and love given by Jesus in a brief encounter changed all their lives and ours.

Let us be open to the stretching, inclusive, listening, generous love of God who calls us to more that we already are. To be disturbed in our peace.  The Lord be with you.