Matthew 15:21-28 - August 20, 2023

As far as stories found in the Gospels, this one is a doozy. 

Jesus has left the familiar environments in which much of his story has taken place so far and traveled to the region of Tyre and Sidon, lands that were populated mainly by non-Israelites. There he meets a woman. Matthew calls her a Canaanite woman, a phrase probably not used to describe the people of that region for centuries. Given that the Canaanites were ancient opponents of Israel, Matthew probably uses this name to reinforce just how foreign she would be been to Jesus and his disciples.

When this woman sees Jesus, she runs out to him, begging him to heal her daughter. She addresses him as both “Lord” and “Son of David” – significant and authoritative titles – and begs him to have mercy on her. 

At first, Jesus ignores her, and his disciples urge him to send her away, which Jesus seems fine with. But this woman will not be ignored and pleads her case again. Eventually, Jesus does at least address her directly, giving her a reason why he intends not to grant her request. But in doing so, he insults her by calling her a dog and refuses to do something that would be so easy for him and so important and life-changing for her. 

It’s hard. It’s painful. Jesus treats this woman terribly. This isn’t the Jesus we expect. 

A lot of others throughout history have thought the same thing. Surely Jesus isn’t just being a jerk… right? The traditional interpretation of this story is that Jesus isn’t really being mean to her; he’s testing her. He is seeing just how faithful this woman is and how badly she wants her daughter healed. Then, when she passes his test, Jesus gives her an A+ by doing what she asks. 

But honestly, I don’t buy that. It goes against pretty much every other story of Jesus we have. He serves. He gives. He heals without question. He is usually the one - the only one - who goes toward people like this. But then, all of a sudden, he gives this woman a life-or-death pop quiz and doesn’t explain why? So, no, I don’t buy the whole “testing her” theory. 

Instead, what I see is a very focused Messiah. He is so focused on what he feels God is calling him to do that he can’t do anything else. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Then this woman comes along and challenges what Jesus thinks his mission is. She is not deterred by Jesus’ brushing her off; she refuses to give in, actually using his slur to her advantage, pressing him to do for this “dog” what kind masters regularly do: giving them at least the crumbs from the table.

It’s her way of saying, “Even I have worth. Even my daughter has worth. Even I am a child of God.” 

In a way, she acts as a mirror for Jesus. She reflects Jesus’ ministry back to him, and he can see things in a new way - maybe in a way he hasn’t seen before. Jesus is opened to see that he’s been called to more than just the lost sheep of his own people

Now, I realize that is kind of hard for us to imagine. Jesus needs someone else to show him ministry? Jesus changes, grows, learns? 

Like any good human, learning is a lifelong endeavor. I hope Jesus kept learning. And here, I think Jesus learned more about what God had in store and then adjusted his own mission appropriately. Jesus sees God’s mission for what it is. Each person is a child of God. Each person does have worth. Each person is wrapped up in God’s plan for love and blessing. 

I think in our best moments, we know that, remember that, and maybe even live that out to some extent. But it doesn’t take much for us to fall back into the narrow thinking that God looks like us, talks like us, likes the same music and movies and ice cream flavors as us. 

Sometimes we might even think God’s mission is the same as our mission in life. 

Because we human beings, we love to draw lines. We love to categorize. We note differences way more easily than commonalities. And of course, our differences are better. Be they serious differences like race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, ability… or silly ones like state pride and school teams, we like to draw those lines, and we often take issue with “all,” with one category. 

And I get it. Our world needs lines. Our world needs categories. If everyone is special, then no one is special. But we do that because we need winners and losers. 

In our lesson today, Jesus realized that God doesn’t have winners and losers. There isn’t an exclusive “only” group for God. God didn’t send Jesus only for a few. Through this encounter, Jesus sees his mission as bigger, broader, way more open than that. The Canaanite woman reminds us of the essential, challenging, and life-giving truth: God has one category: loved. God loves all people. God wants to be with all people. Forever. 

And as harsh as Jesus is here, I think it seems that way because we have the whole rest of the story where Jesus is for “all,” not “only.” In the parables, Jesus emphasizes having all - all the sheep; none are missing. How often should I forgive? All the time. Go into all the world, baptizing and teaching. On the cross, Jesus opened his arms to all. 

Not just the top 1% or 10% or even 50%. All.
Not just pastors or holy people or even Lutherans. All.
Not only. Not just. Not for a few. All.

I’ve heard it said that anytime we draw a line, Jesus goes and stands on the other side. Because Jesus doesn’t exclude anyone, Jesus goes to everyone. And that includes you; whatever lines are drawn around you, no matter the categories our world marks you with, God’s love is for you. Jesus comes to you. The Spirit gathers you in. 

Our sacraments point to that inclusion by God. In baptism, we named and claimed, forever and always. It’s a promise to us that we all are part of God’s family. At communion, all are welcome, all are invited. Jesus didn’t turn people away; he ate with all people, and as we share the meal, we dine with saints of all times and all places. 

And this Canaanite woman reminds us that sometimes, we need to say that. Sometimes, we need to remind each other of God’s all. Sometimes, we need to speak it loud and clear for the world to hear. Because sometimes, even the best of us forget that. 

We all belong to Christ, and there is a place for everyone. All are welcome and accepted; all are fed and nourished. All are created in the image of God.

The job of Christ’s people today is to celebrate the diversity of God’s creative work and embrace all people in the spirit of love, whatever labels or categories humans come up with. God’s love cannot be limited by the lines we draw. God’s love cannot be contained, not even by the grave. God’s love is really is for all. All ways.