August 14 sermon

Text: Matthew 15:21-28
Preached August 14 at Dale and Holden (my last internship sermon!)


Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Jesus has really been busy these past few weeks. We recently saw him feeding a crowd of thousands with just five loaves of bread and two fish. Then he popped up walking across a lake in the middle of a storm. Next thing you know, he’s on the other side of the lake and he still can’t catch a break from his work!

Jesus has left the southern part of Galilee, where his hometown of Nazareth is, and he is now in northern Galilee, near the cities of Tyre and Sidon. There were Jews living there, but most of the people in the area were gentiles, or non-Jews.

It seems that no sooner has Jesus arrived in the area than he’s accosted by a Canaanite woman shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” And Jesus’ initial response may seem surprising to us. Matthew tells us that, at first, “he did not answer her at all.”

How painful do you think that was for this woman? How painful has it been to you when you felt like God seemed silent?

Perhaps you’ve watched news reports of tsunamis or earthquakes—hundreds of thousands of people dead in one fell swoop. Perhaps you’ve been troubled by the injustice that seems rampant all over the world—rich stepping on poor, dictators killing their own people, rebels who won’t give donated food to starving children. Perhaps you’ve sat in the depths of grief, facing the death of a loved one or a broken relationship.

And perhaps you’ve struggled to hear God’s voice in the midst of such suffering. What does it mean when God seems silent? Sometimes it means we’re looking for answers in the wrong places. Sometimes it means we’re only looking for the answers we expect to find, and we miss the response God actually offers. Sometimes it just means God’s ways are not our ways, as he so often reminds us.

The more important question is: what do we do when God seems silent? We do exactly what this woman does. We trust that God’s intention toward his people is gracious. We remember those to whom we are bound in love, and we persevere in faith.

This Canaanite woman is compelled by love for her daughter, who was “tormented by a demon.” She certainly couldn’t heal her daughter on her own, so she goes to Jesus, overcoming her own limited abilities by turning to the one whose power is unlimited. It could have been socially or politically risky to seek out Jesus, but love is consuming, and this woman wasn’t about to pass up a chance to help her dear daughter.

This woman is also bound by love for Jesus. She calls him “Lord,” and “Son of David,” titles used for Israel’s expected Messiah. She recognizes and respects Jesus for who he is, and she kneels before him. Her love compels her to worship.

Jesus had recently been rejected and driven out of his hometown of Nazareth. Just as so many Jews were refusing to hear Jesus’ message, this outsider falls at his feet in worship. Even Jesus’ most faithful followers can’t seem to match this woman’s devotion. Just last week we heard Jesus call Peter “you of little faith,” and now he commends this gentile woman for her “great faith.” It’s quite a sharp contrast.

This woman is compelled by love for Jesus to ask for help and beg for mercy. She demonstrates not only great faith, but also great humility and awareness of her own unworthiness. She doesn’t even argue when Jesus responds less-than-graciously: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” and, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

Instead, she says, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ tables.” In her love, she looks past Jesus’ apparent dismissal, trusting that he can and will respond to her need. And she knows that even the crumbs of what Jesus has to offer are of great worth.

The disciples had long since become annoyed with this woman, saying to Jesus, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” But she persists. She knows that Jesus can provide the healing her daughter needs. She knows that the only thing that breaks the silence of sickness and death is Jesus’ word of healing and life. She will not settle for the silence when the Word himself stands right in front of her.

And, of course, Jesus cannot stay silent forever, because he, too, is bound by love.

Jesus’ initial hesitation is similar to his prayer in the garden before his betrayal, isn’t it? In both cases, Jesus would prefer to avoid what lies ahead, because it involves great suffering. Jesus is about to cross dangerous social boundaries, which will help put him on the road to death. But he cannot hold back, because he is bound by love to this woman and to all of us.

So he dives in. He commends the Canaanite woman for her faith. He breaks the silence and the sting of rejection with a word of life: “Let it be done for you as you wish.” And the woman’s daughter was healed.

God’s disposition toward all of creation is one of love, and love is consuming and compelling.

In our first reading, God speaks through the prophet Isaiah a word of invitation: “And the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord, and to be his servants...these I will bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful….My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

God has always been open to receiving everyone who calls on him in faith, because God is bound to his creation in love.

Paul writes in our second reading about the Jews who had not come to faith in Jesus as Messiah: “I ask, then, has God rejected his people? By no means!...God has not rejected his people whom he foreknew…for the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.” God has not abandoned his people, Paul says, because God is too consumed by love for them to turn his back.

In Jesus’ response to this Canaanite woman, he does not ignore who she is. The person confronting Jesus is both woman and gentile. And she’s not just any gentile but a Canaanite, historic enemies of the Jews. Jesus hesitates to respond, and when he does respond, he doesn’t try to convince her that everyone is the same and she’s not really an outsider.

How insulting that would have been! This woman certainly knew from her years of life that all people are not the same. She was a woman in a culture where she had few rights. She was a gentile professing faith in a Messiah who didn’t seem to see her as part of his flock. She was an outsider, and she knew it; she didn’t need Jesus to try to persuade her otherwise.

Jesus does not ignore the particularities of this woman’s identity. God himself became incarnate as Jesus of Nazareth—a particular person, at a particular time in history, in a particular place in the world. The Incarnation of Christ teaches us that particularity matters, because God uses the particular for broader purposes.

God made a covenant with Abraham—one man—in order to bless all the families of the earth. God chose the people of Israel—one nation—in order to draw to himself all nations. Rather than painting over our uniqueness, God loves us for it, and he bears it all on the cross.

Jesus overturns all the rules about insiders and outsiders, and doing that puts him on the road to his death. Jesus bears all the specifics of our sinfulness, putting himself on the line for each of us. Jesus makes room at the foot of the cross for all people in all their particularity.

Jesus does not ignore the particularities of this woman’s identity, nor does he ignore ours. Instead, he goes to the cross to give us all a new identity, born of the love that compels him to die for us. On the cross, Jesus makes us each a child of God and a new creation. On the cross, Jesus binds us each to himself in all of our uniqueness.

Now, Paul can say to the Galatians, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” And so we are—one in Christ, united in love, no longer defined by the categories that divide us, but still uniquely gifted and precious in our particularity.

So God invites us into his story with all of our uniqueness. God works through specific people with individual gifts and passions and quirks that make a difference. This Canaanite woman showed great faith in Jesus, even as an outsider, Her faith was a witness to all those around her, and it couldn’t have been provided by someone else.

So we too become witnesses to the love of God in Christ Jesus, which binds us to God and to one another. God speaks again through the prophet Isaiah in our first reading: “Thus says the Lord God, who gathers the outcasts of Israel, I will gather others to them besides those already gathered.”

How does God gather people? By the proclamation of his word of life. The same word that brought creation into being. The same word that healed the Canaanite woman’s daughter. The same word that makes us children of God at our baptism.

And guess whose job it is to proclaim this word of life as God gathers people to himself? It’s my job. It’s Pastor Heather’s job. It’s your job too. All of us who know the story of God’s consuming love for us are compelled to tell that story and share that love. No one can tell the story of God’s love in your life as well as you can.

God’s word of life breaks the silence of sickness and death. God’s saving power in Christ Jesus is for all people. And we, in all our particularity, are the witnesses who can make it known. Amen.