Scripture Lesson

From the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 15:

²¹ Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. ²²Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.’ ²³But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.’ ²⁴He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’ ²⁵But she came and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’ ²⁶He answered, ‘It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ ²⁷She said, ‘Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’ ²⁸Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.

"Who's In/Who's Out?"

A Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Jean Niven Lenk

at the First Congregational Church of Stoughton

United Church of Christ

In his autobiography, Mahatma Gandhi – who was one of the 20th century’s foremost political and spiritual leaders -- tells how, during his student days, he read the Gospels and saw in the teachings of Jesus the answer to India’s caste system, which was a major problem facing the people of that country. Gandhi, a Hindu, seriously considered embracing the Christian faith, and one Sunday morning while he was living in South Africa, he visited a church intending to worship and afterwards speak to the pastor about his decision. Upon entering the church, however, the usher refused to give him a seat, telling him to go and worship “with his own people.” Gandhi left the church and never returned, commenting, “If Christians have caste differences also, I might as well remain a Hindu.”

In this morning’s Gospel lesson, we see a similar kind of caste system, and a similar kind of rejection. However, the one doing the rejecting is none other than Jesus himself.

He is heading out of Galilee, hoping to get a respite from the Pharisees, and also from the unrelenting crowds, who would be unlikely to follow him into Gentile country. But even away from Galilee, Jesus cannot get away from the people who need his healing touch. A woman rushes up to him, begging Jesus to heal her afflicted daughter, and we anticipate another miraculous healing story. But wait a minute – we read not of the loving compassionate healer we’ve come to expect, but instead see what seems to be a disturbingly unkind Jesus.

The woman who interrupts Jesus has much going against her. She is a foreigner, a Gentile, and a hated Canaanite. And if that weren’t enough, she is also a woman. In an oppressively patriarchal culture, she is supposed to be seen and not heard.

As we begin to read this passage, we anticipate that Jesus will be above the prejudices of society in first century Palestine; we expect him to uplift and affirm this outcast woman, and grant her request. Yet, inexplicably, Jesus' response to her is lukewarm, even rude. He seems to want nothing to do with her, and without even answering her plea, he turns to his disciples and says to them: "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."

Can this be the same Jesus of Nazareth who laid his hands on the sick and the needy, who let their grimy fingers catch hold of his clothes as he walked past? Is this the same Jesus who said, “Let the children come to me”… and “Zaccheus get down out of the tree”… and “bring blind Bartimaeus here”? Jesus has not refused any person seeking healing; he has heard and responded to everyone else’s needs, but he rebuffs this woman with the words, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” He tells her, in effect, “I don’t minister to Gentiles. I don’t heal outsiders. You don’t belong. You don’t count. You’re not my concern.”

As we struggle with this story, it is important to remember that Christianity began as a sect of Judaism, and the gospel of Matthew was written to a predominantly Jewish audience. This passage reflects the early church’s self-understanding of how it was being challenged to share the gospel with non-Jews. At the same time, in the Christmas story, it is Matthew alone, of all the Gospel writers, who tells us about the wisemen, foreigners from the East, who read the signs in the stars and came to worship the newborn King, bearing gifts. They signify that Jesus had come for everyone, that God’s love and grace extends to everyone – even Canaanites.

And yet, Jesus’ words to the woman say, “You don’t belong. You’re not my concern.” This Jesus is harsh, and he clearly defines who is within and who is outside of God’s circle of love. We struggle with this story, with this depiction of Jesus. And like many before us, we hunt for some explanation for Jesus’ words and inaction.

Some scholars have proposed that the word “dogs” Jesus uses is supposed to be translated as “puppies” and is just a nice domestic illustration to test the woman’s faith. Others have noted that, although the written record can preserve the spoken words, we get none of the voice inflections, intonations, or body language that could nuance the meaning of Jesus’ words, suggesting that Jesus was teasing or testing the woman's faith. It has also been pointed out that Jesus’ response to the woman is not only appropriate but in keeping with religious laws, since she was considered an unclean Canaanite. And some believe that by his initial reluctance to care for any Gentile, Jesus was simply giving voice to the not-so-quietly harbored feelings of his Jewish followers.

Well, here’s my interpretation. I think this passage shows a side of Jesus we often overlook. We put so much focus on the divinity of Christ we lose sight that he is also the man Jesus of Nazareth; that the Jesus Christ we worship is both fully divine and fully human. God came into the real world of flesh and blood human beings as Jesus – that’s what the incarnation is all about, that’s why we celebrate Christmas. Jesus was completely human in all aspects of his life, and experienced every human need and limitation. He could be hungry, thirsty, tempted, tired, and, in this case I believe, he shows an ugly side of humanity – our ability to make distinctions around who is acceptable and who isn’t, who is within and who is beyond the reach of God’s mercy, forgiveness, and love.

Jesus’ encounter with this woman happened almost 2000 years ago, and yet its lesson is as relevant, if not more so, for us in the 21st century. For the reality is, many people who call themselves Christians are the first to determine who is acceptable and who isn’t; who is “in,” and who is “out,” who is going to heaven and who isn’t; so certain of who God does not love and so sure about what the bible says and who it condemns to society’s margins.

In this passage, we see Jesus at his most human. And it make us uncomfortable that Jesus is so human – so uncomfortable that we try to make excuses for him – perhaps like when we try to excuse our own prejudicial behavior. How many of us suffer from a sudden twinge of unreasoning fear as we pass a person of another race on a deserted sidewalk or wonder what that person who looks a little different is doing in our homogenous suburban neighborhood, and we justify it as prudent caution? Or how many of us reject gays and lesbians, and justify our homophobia with quotes from Leviticus and the Apostle Paul while conveniently overlooking Christ’s message of love and inclusivity? Yes, we make many unconscious judgments each day about other human beings; human beings who – like us – are made in God’s image.

But here is the Good News in this passage: Jesus changes. This story is about a God who is relational and gives and takes and grows along with the Canaanite woman in that relationship. Jesus becomes able to see beyond her nationality and her gender, and she transforms his attitude from rejection to acceptance.

And we can change, too. As individuals and also as a church.

I want to thank all of you for your support of our making this sanctuary more handicap friendly. As you may have noticed, we have taken out the front pews, and there will soon be moveable, cushioned chairs in the first row. My husband Peter will soon creating space in the middle of the sanctuary for wheelchairs. We are making these changes to ensure that individuals in wheelchairs are not relegated to the margins of this sacred space but are brought fully into this worshipping community. It is the right thing to do; it is part of what being a Christian community is all about. We don’t have a barrier that says “able bodied people only.” There are no “requirements” for entering our doors; there are no “tests” or prerequisites before we accept people into the worshipping congregation. Everyone is welcome here into this covenantal community with open arms. We are not here by accident; God has brought us together for a reason. All the people who come into this congregation have been called to this church.

But being part of a Christian community doesn’t mean we’re all alike. I am sure the opinions of those of us sitting here this morning vary wildly not only on theological questions, but also on political and social issues, especially during this election year. But part of what makes us a church – a Christian community – is that we love and accept each other anyway. Being part of a covenantal Christian community means we are knit together in a bond which is strong enough to withstand whatever differences we may have.

And that leads me to a story…

In May of 2004, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts legalized marriage between individuals of the same sex. Across the state, and perhaps right here in this congregation, people reacted to this ruling with a variety of opinions, ranging from full support of same sex marriage, to limited support for civil unions, to a rejection of any kind of legitimization of same-sex relationships. But same-sex marriage was a topic that needed to be addressed by churches, where couples would be seeking to be married. And so Don Bizer, who was serving as Interim Pastor here at the time, brought the subject forth at a meeting of the Board of Deacons, which – according to our by-laws, oversees the use of this sanctuary. At that meeting four years ago, after some discussion, the Deacons voted not to allow same-sex weddings in this church. It was a decision that was made in the abstract, for at the time there were no known gay couples in the church who might want to be married here.

But then, something happened.

Oliver Finch and Joe Izyk started attending this church a year ago. Before coming here, they had visited several different churches, including one much closer to their Lakeville home, but this was where they felt God’s Spirit calling them. This was where they received an amazingly extravagant welcome. This was where they found a church home. Just as God brought each one of you to this church, God brought Oliver and Joey here, too.

And this is the church they felt called to join; last fall, before God and our congregation, they took covenantal vows to be faithful members of this church, and we in turn committed to welcoming them into the life of this church.

But Oliver and Joe were not being extended access to the same rights and rites that other members, and even non-members, receive at this church. Oliver and Joe plan to be married next June, and they wanted more than anything to be married here in this, their church.

And so this past June, the Deacons revisited the question of allowing same-sex marriages in this church. This time, the question was no longer abstract but involved two flesh and blood human beings, children of God, and members of our church -- members who attended worship, participated in the sacraments, gave to the church. After a prayerful discussion full of love, respect, patience, and with a promise to each other and to this church that we would not let any disagreements we have to pull us apart, the Deacons voted. And this time, the motion passed overwhelmingly, with no opposition. It was a holy, grace-filled moment.

Joey and Oliver, we look forward with great joy to your wedding next year, and I want to thank you for coming into this community of faith and transforming us. We love you.

In the story of the Canaanite woman, Jesus changes. In looking at the barriers of this sanctuary, this congregation changed. And in considering our position on same-sex weddings, the Board of Deacons changed.

As individuals and as a covenantal community, may we continue to be honest about the ways we make judgments about who’s in and who’s out, and then have the courage and grace – like Jesus – to change and be the inclusive, welcoming, and love-filled community Christ calls us to be. Amen.