God's always "hooking us," pulling us back: back to the Word, back to the Meal, back to the Font...back to the community.

This blog is for the purpose of sharing around each Sunday's Bible readings & sermon at Shepherd of the Valley Lutheran Church.

Get Sunday's readings here. We follow the Narrative Lectionary.
(In the summer, we return to the Revised Common Lectionary' epistle or Second Reading here.)

So, what's been hooking you?

So, what's been hooking you?


Here you can...

Sunday, August 17, 2014

August 17 -- Tenth Sunday after Pentecost



Previously I’ve always been angry at Jesus for the way he spoke to this woman [expound/retell story]

It’s tempting to avoid this all together, and preaching instead on the first part of this Gospel text, about making sure that what comes from us comes from the heart and is pure and true, compassionate and undefiled.  It’s almost ironic that he says that and does this.  That he talks about loving words lining up with loving deeds.  “Don’t say one thing and do another,” and then he himself says one thing and does another.  “It’s not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”

It’s always upset me, but this year, I’m wondering if Jesus knew exactly what he was saying and doing: he was repeating a popular line and using a popular Jewish racial slur from his day, a cliche, a line that “gets us off the hook”.    A line like: 
“God helps those who help themselves.” [gets me off the hook of helping and sharing]
“I’m spiritual but not religious.”  [gets me off the hook of suffering with others in a community of faith]
“Make love, not war.” [gets me off the hook of having to deal with confrontation and perhaps even real evil]
“It’s America, speak English.”  [gets me off the hook of learning , or at least being patient and loving, with those in this land who speak other languages]
“Charity starts at home.”  [gets me off the hook of giving anything to anyone beyond my closest concentric circle of family and friends...even in the church community] 

“It’s not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” [gets me off the hook of a) using words that are true and pure, thoughtful and loving b) being compassionate toward anyone who’s not of my clan...in Jesus’ case: the Jewish clan.  She was a Canaanite woman.] 

This year, this time around with this text, I’m wondering if Jesus knew exactly what he was saying.  His tongue was in his cheek as he repeated something that others would have applauded and said themselves.  Perhaps he was testing her; but I’m wondering if Jesus knew and saw in her eyes already her strength and her wisdom and her determination and her love for her sick child, and wanted to make her a model of great faith for that crowd and for his disciples gathered ‘round...who all agreed that Jesus was only for the house of Israel, who all agreed that he had drawn his boundaries correctly.  Interesting, though, that this whole episode takes place beyond the boundaries of Israel.  (This is the furthest north and west as Jesus gets in his whole earthly ministry.)  Something is about to happen here out on the margins.  Things have been going on as they always have.  Nations fighting nations, people fighting people, races fighting races, lines in the sand are constantly drawn.  It’s the way it’s always been, but now Jesus is up to something...

Jesus is giving her some pushback; he’s creating a little drama;  he’s saying what people say, drawing the lines that people draw, using the derogatory terms that people use.  I grew up in the South, and I don’t have to tell you the derogatory terms people use, and the lines people still draw.  Jesus starts here by drawing those same lines that have always been drawn: “It’s not fair...” But then something happens.  She stands up...even as she knelt down before him.   She stands up to him and says, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the master’s table.”  She pushes back, she talks back, and cries out for mercy and welcome -- just CRUMBS that fall from the master’s table.

Reminds me of Martin Luther’s last words: “Wir sind Bettler.  Das ist wahr. (We are beggars. This is true.)”  In the end all we can do is open our hands and receive the master’s crumbs.    

Stand up to Jesus, sisters and brothers in Christ.  Demand his mercy, demand his forgiveness and healing.  Put your hands out and receive this bread of life, and know that it is enough.  

Don’t be fooled and sucked down into the things people say, the things that get us off the hook from being faithful and good.

Our intro for today: “As Jesus commends her bold faith, how might our church extend its mission to those on the margins of society?”  Great question to keep before us as we vote on whether or not to move at this time into a capital campaign and building improvements...

I’m growing to appreciate this passage more, because Jesus is mixing it up here and getting his fingernails dirty...once again.  “Got a break a few eggs to make an omelette” (to use another cliche).

Here’s what we can learn today from our Gospel: Christ goes beyond the boundaries.  Christ is well aware of our prejudices, our slurs, our fears, our lines that get us off the hook...and even uses them to teach us.  Christ pushes at us a little, too, tongue in cheek.  But in the end, God grants mercy!   

So stand up, rise up, be bold, because God is faithful and, in the end, leaves no one out -- even you!  Mercy and love pours down on us all like rain.  So it gets muddy, but Christ is right there in the thick of it, teaching us, forgiving us, loving us and even healing us.  So many women hid in the shadows of society in Jesus’ day -- sometimes they had to -- but here, this Canaanite woman rises up and sticks her neck out there for the sake of a child.  May we be so bold, as to go to the margins, stand up for the child, in a world that’s cruel.  May we be so bold...with a God who’d love us anyway.  AMEN.

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