Tuesday, August 19, 2014

What Defiles (Tenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Matthew 15:10-28
10 Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, "Listen and understand: 11 it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles." 12 Then the disciples approached and said to him, "Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what you said?" 13 He answered, "Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted. 14 Let them alone; they are blind guides of the blind. And if one blind person guides another, both will fall into a pit." 15 But Peter said to him, "Explain this parable to us." 16 Then he said, "Are you also still without understanding? 17 Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth enters the stomach, and goes out into the sewer? 18 But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. 19 For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. 20 These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile." 21 Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22 Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, "Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon." 23 But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, "Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us." 24 He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 25 But she came and knelt before him, saying, "Lord, help me." 26 He answered, "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." 27 She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." 28 Then Jesus answered her, "Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And her daughter was healed instantly.

            It’s 2014. Aren’t you just a little disappointed that no one has invented a time machine yet? I mean, just think of how convenient that would be; think of all the wrongs that could be put right. You could simply jump in your handy time machine, and with the turn of a few knobs, the flip of a few switches, or (given that this would likely be a modern, advanced machine) the launch of an app, be transported back in time. Just imagine it: you could go back and keep your younger self from making the decisions you now regret, or you could wind the dial back to the early nineties and warn the world about Billy Ray Cyrus and his “Achy-Breaky Heart”(not to mention Miley, but we won’t go there). You could travel back to the eighteenth century and tell the founders of this country to be a little more specific when they write the Constitution and the Bill of Rights; that might actually keep some folks from fighting and claiming they know exactly what the founders meant when they said this or that. You could travel back two millennia and find yourself on the parched terrain of ancient Judea, somewhere between Gennesaret and the villages of Tyre and Sidon, and when you arrive there, you could observe those ancient Pharisees and their commitment to dietary laws and religious requirements related to hand-washing.
You could hear how Jesus calls these hypocrites and cites Scripture calling them out on their vain attempts at honoring God with their words and rote actions while their hearts are far from God and God’s intentions. You could even witness firsthand the words we’ve only heard in transcription and translation this morning in verses 10 through 20 as Jesus explains that what goes into one’s body is not what defiles it or makes it spiritually unclean. Eventually, Jesus says, that stuff winds up in the toilet and in the sewer! What defiles is what comes from the heart, “For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile." If you could travel back to that time and place, you might even hear one or two of the disciples say “Oh snap!” as Jesus “left that place and went away to the [Gentile] district of Tyre and Sidon.”
But if I had a time machine, and I traveled back in time to the original occurrence of our text this morning, I know exactly what I would do: I’d ask Jesus: “Jesus, why did you call that woman a dog?”
You see, after Jesus lectures the Pharisees in the first twenty verses of this chapter, he passed through a Gentile territory when Matthew tells us in verse 22, “Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.’" Now, this may seem like your ordinary, “person-shouting-at-Jesus-to-heal-a-family member” incident from the gospels, but this one is different, especially the way Matthew tells it. This woman is a triple offender when it comes to breaking some cultural rules of the day. First, we’re told by Matthew that she is a Canaanite woman. Now, here’s the thing: there weren’t any Canaanites living in the first century (strictly speaking),[1] so why did Matthew use this term to describe this woman? Well, if you were to look back over the history outlined in the Hebrew Bible (the Old Testament) you’ll find that the Canaanites were some of the earliest opponents of the Israelites. In fact, the term Canaanite in the Hebrew Bible can refer to a specific people group or any of the non-Hebrew people who lived in the land of Canaan (the land promised to Abraham by God). So, perhaps Matthew is calling this woman a Canaanite to highlight her racial, ethnic, and cultural difference from the Jews, in this case, Jesus and his disciples. So, she’s a Canaanite: strike one.
Strike two: she’s a she, or rather, she’s a woman. Now, I’m ashamed to say that even today in our modern culture, women aren’t exactly treated fairly: they aren’t fairly represented in decision-making bodies, they make around 70% of what a man makes doing the same work, they still have to struggle with antiquated stereotypes of another era, and in many religious circles they are treated as second-class citizens, but in the Ancient Near East…women were seldom seen and never heard. For this mother to even make an appearance to ask Jesus for help was atrocious. She was a woman: strike two. The third and final strike came in the way she shouted after Jesus. One didn’t do that sort of thing, especially if one was a woman! It was gaudy, disruptive, and downright uncalled-for.[2]
This woman, this Canaan woman, this loud, social-more-breaking, Canaanite, woman shouts out to Jesus in verse 22 "Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon." How she heard about Jesus down in Tyre and Sidon is anybody’s guess; Jesus’ reputation often went before him in the gospels, but when this woman hears that Jesus is in the area she seeks him out and calls him “Lord,” and “Son of David.” Now, the word “Lord” could simply mean “sir;”[3] in this case, however, with the woman’s use of the title “Son of David” it likely means much more. She recognizes Jesus as one with the power to exorcise the demon tormenting her daughter. This sounds like a classic setup for Jesus in the gospels: a Gentile woman (a marginalized member of society) comes to him for help, expressing faith and identifying him as lord or messiah. Then, those of us familiar with Jesus’ actions in the gospels, we expect Jesus to buck societal expectations and help this marginalized, outcast member of society. But that isn’t what happens here.
No, at first, Jesus ignores the woman. We’re told in verse 23: “But he did not answer her at all.”  That seems strange; maybe Jesus couldn’t hear her too well. That theory goes out the window though when we’re told that “his disciples came and urged him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.’” She’s shouting after them; the disciples heard her, so we have to conclude that Jesus simply ignored the pleading of this woman. What’s worse, though, is what Jesus says next: “He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’" All of the sudden, Jesus is some sort of ancient Zionist, only keeping his message and ministry for those who belong to the race of the Israelites? Maybe Jesus is just saying this with his tongue in his cheek, or maybe there’s something more to what he’s saying, like he is implying that Israel is bigger and more inclusive than those first century folks may have believed.
Nope, because after she pleads for help a second time, Jesus responds to the Canaanite woman in verse 26 by saying "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." He is calling this woman (and others like her) a dog! While others have pointed out that this is the diminutive form of the word for dog used here by Jesus[4] (perhaps translated as “puppy” or “pet”), he’s still called this woman a dog (and Greek is a language of nouns with gender, and anyone who’s ever looked up cuss word in the dictionary when they were in elementary school knows what we call a female dog!). This doesn’t sound like the airbrushed Jesus of our Sunday School pictures. This doesn’t sound like the Jesus who sits and lets the little children come to him. This doesn’t sound like the Jesus with gentleness in his voice cleansing lepers and healing the sick. This sounds like a first-century Jewish man with all of the instilled prejudices and cultural hang-ups that would have come with being raised a Jewish boy in first-century Judea. It sounds that way, because that’s exactly what it is!
Now, I know for some of you that may be flirting with blasphemy, but one of the oldest theological confessions of Christianity is that Jesus was fully God and fully human.[5] We cannot read the gospels honestly without witnessing the ways in which Christ was (self) limited in his knowledge.[6] Jesus was surrounded by the influences of first-century, Jewish culture, and his response to this Canaanite woman is evidence that perhaps some of it rubbed off. But before you’re ready to throw Jesus’ divinity out with his humanity, before you tune out because of your own discomfort with such an idea as Christ’s humanness, watch what happens in the rest of this encounter with this Canaanite woman.
In verse 27 [s]he said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." Jesus has called this woman a dog, and rather than balk at his name-calling or slouch back home believing she had wasted her time with a so-called messiah, she shows even more faith, faith through her hope and her own humanness. In effect she says, “You may call me a dog because of my race and relation to the Israelites, but even dogs get to eat the scraps, and all I need is a crumb—all I’m asking for is a crumb.” Her faith in Jesus’ power to heal her daughter is so strong that all she needs is a crumb from Christ; she’s not asking for the whole spread, the entire song-and-dance; she doesn’t need Jesus to walk on water or make enough to feed five thousand. She just needs a crumb! What faith! What hope! To risk so much, to dare to be so vulnerable and human as to endure even insult for the sake of her daughter and the trust she has in Jesus’ power to make her well.
Such hope, such faith, such humanness…those are the kinds of things that can bring forth love and compassion from even the hardest of hearts. Those are the kinds of things that can strip away the callouses from a heart worn by the influence of ignorance. Those are the kinds of thing that do not defile, but can wash clean from the heart those things that do. For you see, when Jesus saw the woman’s humanness, when he saw her hope, when he saw her for what she truly was as a woman, a child of God, not a race, gender, or something to be called different, when Jesus saw her faith, he said to her, "Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And her daughter was healed instantly.
Now, it may be unsettling for you to think that Jesus called a woman a dog, and it may be uncomfortable for you to think that Jesus could change his mind, that the Christ could change the way he felt about a person, about a group of people. But what if he did? What if this encounter with this Canaanite woman is meant to show us the truth about Jesus being fully human as well as fully God? What if this is actually a story about our Lord and Savior calling a woman a dog simply because she belonged to a different race of people? What if this is actually an account of Jesus changing and growing, perhaps even growing out of the cultural influences he had grown up experiencing? If it is that kind of account (and I think it is) what does it then say about us?
What does it say about us whenever we claim about our ignorance, about our own sinfulness, “Well, that’s just the way I was raised”? What does it say about us when we look on another person and refuse to see their humanness, when we refuse to see them as equal to us? What does it say about our own arrogance when we refuse to grow, to change, to see others we once saw as “dogs,” as those less than us, even less than human, when the Savior himself was able to let go of those cultural ideas that had previously shaped his understanding? Are we better than Christ?! Would we dare claim that we don’t need to examine ourselves and the possibility of our own ignorance created by our own upbringing? Can we continue to believe that we can point to “the way we were raised” as a justifiable excuse for our sinfulness? Can we really think that we are incapable of growth and change when Christ himself, in his own humility, has shown us that such growth is part of kingdom of God?
What beliefs do you still harbor in your heart, knowing they are unclean and unfit for God’s kingdom? What do you continue to claim as acceptable—though you know it to be wrong—simply because our culture, your upbringing, or your own comfort says it is fine? May you search your heart and cleanse it of the ignorance, the hatred, the selfishness, or all the things that truly defile it. May you see the Lord’s example as one that calls you to follow, and may you choose this day to stop clinging to beliefs and notions that allow you to continue in a life of self-driven comfort so that you may grow and be transformed more and more into the likeness of our Lord and Savior, the fully God/fully human, Jesus Christ.
Amen.



[1] Marilyn Salmon, Commentary on Matthew 15: [10-20] 21-28 (August 17, 2008) from the website “Working Preacher.”  https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=125
[2] Jae Won Lee, “Proper 15 (Sunday between August 14 and August 20 inclusive): Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word. Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville, KY (2010) pp.358-9.
[3] The Greek word here is kurios, which can often be understood as “sir” when used in the form of an address.
[4] M. Eugene Boring, “Volume VIII: New Testament Articles, Matthew, Mark,” The New Interpreter’s Bible: A Commentary in Twelve Volumes. Abingdon Press: Nashville, TN (1995) p.336.
[5] John Anthony McGuckin, “Hypostatic Union,” The Westminster Handbook to Patristic Theology. Westminster John Knox Press: Lousiville, KY (2004). p.175, (This is but one example of such a confession)
[6] see Mark 13:32, Matthew 24:36, Luke 8:45 as a few examples

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