God's Inclusive Love (by the Rev. Dr. Michael W Caine)

(Scriptures: Isaiah 56:1-8, Matthew 15:21-28)

Note: On August 14, Pastor Dave did a pulpit exchange with the Rev. Dr. Michael W. Caine, pastor of Old First Reformed UCC at 4th & Race Streets. Below is Michael's sermon at Emanuel UCC.)

Our story today, about who can be, who is entitled to be at the table, is in between two miraculous feeding stories.

In the middle of the 14th chapter, we have Matthew’s version of the feeding of the 5000. You know that story-- where a great multitude of people --5000 men, not to even number, much less count the women and children-- has come out to a deserted place to hear and be healed by Jesus. When it got late, the disciples suggest Jesus should send all these people away, as they will need food and nothing is available for such a crowd in the middle of nowhere. Jesus takes the 5 loaves and 2 fishes; everyone is fed; 12 baskets of peices are left over.

The 15th chapter ends with another miraculous feeding, known as the feeding of the 4000. Similar to the first-- Jesus has compassion on the crowd; the disciples can’t imagine there could be food in the desert to feed such a multitude; after everyone’s been fed, there are baskets of leftovers. You might think that it’s a slightly altered version-- or in an oral culture, a differently remembered variant-- of the first feeding story.

But there’s importance in the details-- 4000 fed; 7 loaves and a few fish; and 7 baskets of broken pieces left over.

But before we get to that. The story we are given for today. Matthew 15:21-28. Alongside of the parable of the Laborers and the Hours, this might be my favorite Gospel passage.

A Canaanite woman cries out to Jesus to heal her daughter. That’s not so out of the ordinary. How many people came to Jesus seeking healing for themselves, their loved ones or acquaintances? And the daughter is healed-- just a day in the life of our Savior.
But in between the mother’s cry and daughters’ healing, there are some jarring details.

First of all, there’s the identity of this woman, a Canaanite woman. Matthew’s choice of the word “Canaanite” is important. By the time of Jesus, people were no longer called “Canaanites.” That was an old label, from the days when the Israelites were in the wilderness. eyeing the promised land, to take it from “the Canaanites.”

But In Jesus’ or Matthew’s day, the name was no longer on the map. It’d be like referring to New York as “New Amsterdam” or Cleveland “the Northwest Territories.”
In other words, Matthew uses “Canaanite” on purpose: his very pointed point is that this woman is “other.” She’s not just foreign. She’s also the enemy.

Neither Jesus nor we should be surprised at that... he’s left his own neighborhood; he’s in enemy territory, the region of Tyre and Sidon, home base for this woman and her people. Not where Jews lived. She is of a people who were historically enemies of the Jews.

And if we encountered her passionate pleas, even right here in church, we’d probably judge her strange too. She keeps begging Jesus in this loud voice to heal her daughter who is tormented by a demon.

We’re UCC, we don’t pray like that. Or play like that. Demons aren’t part of our religious pantheon. And even our prayers--- truth be told, when life gets really hard, we too may beg God sometimes, but in a quieter, more private way.

But this mother, she’s desperate and comes out shouting: “Have mercy on me!”

But, church, there’s more: in Jesus’ day, women did not speak to unknown men in public. Actually, women didn’t really speak to men outside of their families. Well, some women did, but custom suggested that only prostitutes acted in such a brazen, forward way.

Isn’t that what we do with people who are different? Disapprove, add a negative value judgement to what makes them different; leave them morally suspect?

Maybe Matthew means for us to remember another women mentioned earlier in his story... Rehab, the prostitute who is named in Jesus’ genealogy in the first chapter of Matthew. Rehab, too, was a Canaanite. What’s a Canaanite prostitute doing in Jesus’ family tree?

The disciples don’t want to think about such questions. They want nothing to do with such women: “Send her away!” they tell Jesus. The same response when faced with thousands of hungry people. “How can we handle their needs; send them away, Lord.”

But this time, surprisingly, Jesus also advocates dismissal. He too is unwilling to help. This woman may not be Jewish, but she calls out to Jesus in language of the Jewish prayer: “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.” But Jesus isn’t fooled or swayed by her use of familiar language. In his understanding, this woman has nothing to do with him, no claim on him. He does not answer her at all.

This isn’t Jesus at his best, church. Or at least, it’s Jesus on a bad day, when he agrees with the disciples’ wish that she’d just go away. Only the disciple’s request-- that Jesus send her away-- gets him to respond. He now adds to their sentiment, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

But our Canaanite woman, she isn’t backing down easily. She’s right in his face now. She’s not going anywhere, and Jesus isn’t shying away from a confrontation either. Here’s a recipe for something happening.

Then Jesus goes right to the dogs. He answers her, “It’s not right to take what is meant for the children of God and throw it to the dogs.”

Ouch. No soft, loving Jesus here. Our tradition teaches Jesus was both “fully God” and “fully human.” And Jesus’ humanity, usually it’s appealing. That our holy One can also be that much like us.

But not this human! ...because this human, he’s neither approachable nor particularly godly. Instead, he comes off as rough and arrogant. Narrow, just plain mean, racist.

Does this sound like the Jesus you know, the Jesus you trust, the Jesus we worship?
I’ve not been sent for your people; I only minister to my own kind.

Or

God’s love is for some, not others.

Or

You people are dogs.

Matthew doesn’t clean up this story or touch up his picture of Jesus.

I suspect that’s important for us. We probably don’t want to say it in church even half as loud as the Canaanite woman was begging for mercy, but we all have someone we doubt God’s love stretches far enough to reach. Each of us rests assured that Jesus came to us and our kind before coming to... you fill in the blank... “those people” or “that kind of person.”

But, like I said, our Canaanite sister... she’s not backing down. Maybe she’s just feisty and stubborn. Or is it the fight in mom with a dying daughter? Or could it be that somewhere deep inside of her, God’s assured her, deeply, unquestioningly, of her worth-- in ways Jesus hasn’t even imagined yet.

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

I imagine at this point, Jesus, hearing her chutzpah, feeling the sting of her insight against his short-sightedness and prejudice... Jesus must have smiled. At her wisdom and grace under pressure. At how she’s seen something about God that she’s just shown him.
“Woman, great is your faith!”

Her faith does have an expansiveness to it. She’s speaking the truth, perhaps a truth she’s know a long time, even all along. There’s no reason to believe Jesus is about to reward her for a conversion experience she’s having.

Jesus is the one who’s heart and mind are being transformed. Letting our bible stories speak together, I can almost imagine him putting together these various episodes:

The children have been fed. 5000 men besides the women and children. And there were 12 baskets of pieces left over. That was my lesson... illustration really-- to the disciples and everyone else gathered there... that the love of God promises abundance that meets every need.

And, this sister, foreign as she may to my faith, understands my teachings better than I do!

The conversion of faith wasn’t the Canaanite woman’s but Jesus’ who was converted that day to a larger vision of the commonwealth of God. Jesus saw and heard a fuller revelation of God in the voice and in the face of the Canaanite woman.

How do I know this? Here’s where we need to get back to the two food-multiplication stories that Matthew uses to bookend the Canaanite woman’s story.

The second feeding story happens where Jesus encountered this woman. Meaning, Jesus is now multiplying loaves and fishes for non-Jews-- 4000 men are fed -- besides women and children. And there are 7 baskets left over. 7, the number, in the Bible, of wholeness, completeness-- in this context signifying inclusion of all the nations.
After the first food-multiplication-miracle, 12 baskets are left over-- there’s food enough for all 12 tribes of Israel. But in this second food-multiplication-miracle, 7 baskets left after Jesus fed Gentiles promises God’s got food enough for all the nations.

The Canaanite woman teaches Jesus that “others” deserve more than crumbs. Jesus learns her lesson, and his ministry changes, expands... After this point in Matthew’s Gospel, he understands his mission to go further than the boundaries of Israel.

If Jesus could be changed, can’t we also? Surely God’s love is enough to offer all children more than crumbs?