In Christ there is no east or west, in him no south or north,
but one community of love throughout the whole wide earth.
This is the point. It seems simple, but if you take a look at the news or walk through our city streets it gets a little more complicated. How is God working in our lives and in our community of faith to break down barriers and build relationships that cross cultural divides? How has God made us to be a welcoming place for all people? In what ways might the Spirit be leading us to open our doors even further? I look forward to further conversation!
9th Sunday after Pentecost - Sunday, August 14, 2011
Text: Matthew 15:21-28
How many of you like rules? I know I do. You don't have to raise your hands, but just think about it. Have you ever been a part of a club or an organization in which your status as a member was determined by how well you follow the rules? Rules can be a comforting thing. You know exactly where you stand. As long as you follow the rules, you know that you belong, that you deserve to be there. More importantly, perhaps, you know exactly who doesn't belong.
Rules frame the whole story we hear today from Matthew. For the people of Israel, rules, that is, the law, Torah, defined who they were as a nation. God chose them and set them apart from all other nations so that they could show the world who God was. Because they were the chosen people, they had to eat different foods, wear certain clothing, worship in a certain way. If you were an Israelite, you did not associate with foreigners. Period. To break any of these rules was unthinkable because if you did then you would lose your own status within the group.
We know what it's like to live in this kind of divided world. If there's a way to separate people, surely we've found it. White and black, native and immigrant, so-called “normal” and disabled, straight and gay, Christian and Muslim, rich and poor...to name a few. We are really good at figuring out how “we” are different from “them.” The dangerous thing about rules and these divisions, though, is that sooner or later, you find yourself excluded by them, on the outside looking in.
We might not like to admit it, but these divisions find their way into church, too. It's been said that the most segregated hour of American life is 11 'o clock on Sunday morning. I wish it weren't so true. Have you ever been to a church in which you did not feel welcome? Now you and I know that the last thing most church people want to do is make anyone feel unwelcome, but sometimes it just happens. Do you know what it's like to walk into a church where you don't know the rules? Or where you wonder if God could love you because of something in your life that you don't tell people about? Have you ever worried that if the people around you found out your secrets, that you would no longer be welcome?
In today's story, the contrast between who's in and who's out could not be more stark. On one side, you have Jesus the Jewish rabbi and his law-abiding disciples from good Jewish stock. They have entered the district of Tyre and Sidon, just north of Israel, like a righteous army bringing the word of God to the heathen foreigners. They encounter a woman that Matthew calls a “Canaanite.” This term is out of place, historically. To call this woman a Canaanite is like to call a modern-day Italian a Roman or a modern-day Mexican an Aztec. This word belongs to her ancestors. Her ancestors had been conquered by a different group of Israelites, who were led by a man named Joshua. Anybody remember stories about him? The battle of Jericho? Joshua had been instructed by God to clear the promised land of all the Canaanites, and he did so, ruthlessly. He and his army wiped them out by the sword.
But folks, it gets more interesting. Joshua's name in Hebrew is yeshua, which is the very same name as Jesus. We translate Jesus into English through the Greek, but really they have the same Hebrew name. In this story Jesus is the new Joshua, and when this Canaanite woman starts pleading with him, Jesus sounds a lot like Joshua the conqueror.
She cries out, “Have mercy on me, Lord,” just like we sang together, a few moments ago. No answer from Jesus. His pious disciples urge him to dismiss the foreign heathen woman. Jesus' cold reply, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” is chilling. He goes on to call her a dog. This is what the new Joshua is supposed to say. But the woman seems to know something about God that Jesus isn't letting on. She persists, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs from the master's table.” Jesus heart seems to melt. The woman has faith that God's plan for the people of the world is bigger than anyone could dream.
She might have heard the words from Isaiah that we heard today, that God will gather all the foreigners to God's holy mountain, that God's house will be a house of prayer for all peoples, that God will gather others besides those already gathered. But she seems to have come to Jesus with a faith that God's love is deeper and wider and more inclusive than even Jesus imagined.
Now, we cannot get into Jesus' head and know for sure why he said what he did. But from what we know about Jesus, from other things that he said and did, it's pretty likely that he did actually come into this conversation knowing God's love embraced this woman. Here's what I do know – this time the new Joshua did not conquer the Canaanites, but was conquered by this Canaanite woman. Jesus, playing the role of the traditional Jewish leader, arguing the accepted and expected Jewish position, is out-argued and proved wrong by the foreign woman. This is and was shocking and scandalous. Jesus reveals the scandal of the gospel - that our conventional religious wisdom is out-of-step with the wider, more expansive love of God that embraces the outsider.
Rules are not a bad thing on their own. Israel's rules about how to live as God's chosen people, our religious rules about how to live and treat each other, they serve a good purpose. But we have to remember that these rules come from and belong to God. Jesus did not throw the rule book out the window, but if rules are all we have then he died for nothing. In Christ God did something new. God decided for all time that you belong to him, and so does everyone else.
Our Lord Jesus went to the cross and died and was risen for all of us. For everyone. For you. On the cross, Jesus changed the rules and tore down the walls of race, ethnicity, money, status and even morals that separate us. If ever you have been the unwelcome one, the one on the outside looking in, the one with secrets, Christ died for you. Christ died to bring all his people together, including people we will never meet and have a hard time understanding, and our many neighbors who have not yet passed through these doors.
This woman was on the outside of every conceivable group. Jesus crossed the lines and broke the rules for her, and he has for you for all time. On this side of the cross, God's grace flings open the doors to mercy and forgiveness to all people, just as God has flung open the doors to Christ Lutheran. Here God is working to welcome all people in our worship, to our community meals, to use our buildings. Whenever you meet new people in your lives, God is working in you to build bonds of fellowship that cross the lines.
The table of the Lord is set for the newcomer, the left out, the looked over, the least and the lost – for all sinners embraced by the expansive love of God. This table is set for you. Like nowhere else in the world, at this table all are welcome, all are fed, not only crumbs but the very body and blood of Christ. Come, taste, and see, and be filled. Amen.
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