+In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
This morning’s Gospel lesson was used for a brief bible study at the College for Congregational Development week before last as a case study in emotional regulation in areas of potential conflict. It was a good story to use for that purpose, but as soon as I realized that we would be looking at this passage I got nervous, because I have heard so many “bad takes” on it in the past. Fortunately, those present didn’t “go there.” I will address them briefly now, though, just to be safe.
So, Jesus is not “doing a racism” here. No doubt he is reflecting or, better, reporting on the reality of Jewish-Gentile relations in this period and employing language that we might find more-than-a-little uncomfortable, but knowing what we do from the rest of the evidence in the Gospels, this should be read (I believe) as a way of testing both the Canaanite woman and the disciples through provocation rather than an expression of actual bigotry. After all, the woman herself opens the interaction by bringing inter-ethnic distinctives to the forefront, addressing our Lord as “Son of David”, an expression of Messianic expectation which would have been seen as a provocation itself when uttered by a Gentile. We might see it as parallel to how there are some terms used within minority communities that I (as the whitest man you know) should probably not use, even in the most friendly way.
The second “hot take”, which I think is false but which one hears from time to time, is that the woman changes Jesus’ mind about the inclusion of the Gentiles into his mission. Now, Jesus being fully human (just as he is fully divine) means we need not be completely uncomfortable with the proposition that Jesus grows in clarity about his mission and the full implications of his Messianic status as time proceeds, but it seems pretty clear to me that by this point he knows that he has come to save the whole human race, not just the Children of Israel. That said, Jesus also seemed to be of the opinion that his particular focus at this point in his earthly ministry was with his own people. The Gentiles would be brought in, but only later, by means of his death and resurrection.
I think Andy McGowan, the recently retired dean of Berkeley (our seminary within Yale Divinity School), put it more clearly and compellingly than I had seen before in a blog post this week about the passage:
If the woman changes Jesus’ mind about anything, it is not about inclusion or any other abstraction, but about time and the order in which things happen. Jesus of course does know she needs God’s love, but it will only be at the end of [the] story, when Jesus’ death has dismantled the separation between Jews and Gentiles and a new Covenant has been made in his blood, that a mission to all the nations can take place. Universal inclusion is God’s purpose, but will be enacted by Jesus’ objective triumph over the forces of exclusion, not by the grim moralistic demand to “do better.” So he has not changed his mind about social boundaries, which he will overcome, but because of her faith, time itself gives way here; she has managed to create a crack in the narrative arc which otherwise keeps her and other gentiles waiting for Jesus’ victory over the powers of death.
So the old dividing walls remain, but the intervention of God can break through time itself to remove them as they would be formally removed with the establishment of the New Covenant and finally, absolutely destroyed when the Kingdom come in it fullness.
One thing which I think the interaction between Jesus and the Canaanite woman suggests, though, is that pretending there are not real issues which can divide us (whether that’s race or culture or religion or politics or any of a host of other things) doesn’t get us any closer to reconciliation. Kendall Jenner can’t solve race relations and conflicting opinions about policing in America by handing out bottles of Pepsi Cola. (Or, if you didn’t catch that reference, you can’t just buy the world a coke and expect to live in perfect harmony).
Now while the Gospel promise of reconciliation is unchanging, the nature of division is a moving target. It is interesting that while in Jesus’ day the issue would have been Gentile inclusion, just twenty five years later, Paul has to be pretty firm in the lesson from today’s Epistle that Jews aren’t excluded from the promise. One step forward, two steps back. The Gospel is not a zero sum game, but our sinfulness, tries to turn everything into one. If this seems bizarre and counter-intuitive to you, talk to a Tutsi or an Americo-Liberian or a Syrian Alawite. This isn’t just some “hurt people hurt people” cultural gestalt, which I personally think may be overplayed in contemporary discourse. Rather, I think it’s a metaphysical reality relating to our fallen nature and the power of evil, which (if true) makes it all the more pernicious.
The way through that is modeled by both Jesus and the Canaanite woman—unflinching honesty, uncomfortable vulnerability, and a total openness to the grace of God which is deeper and broader than we may expect or even like. When we approach those with whom we are at enmity, we will discover that not just this building, not just the temple of the New Jerusalem in heaven, but every space in which we live and move and have our being may be something like Isaiah’s vision: a house of prayer for all people.
+In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.