"They got a name for people like you H.I.; that name is called… 'Repeat Offender.' Not a pretty name is it?" "No sir, that's a bonehead name, but it ain't me anymore." "You're not just telling us what we want to hear?" "No sir, no way." "'Cause we just want to hear the truth." "Then I guess I am telling you what you want to hear." "Son, didn't we just tell you not to do that?"

I love that scene; perhaps you recognize it from the opening few minutes of the Coen brothers 1987 dark comedy, "Raising Arizona." I like the scene because it beautifully illustrates the classic dilemma of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. "You're not just telling us what we want to hear?… 'Cause we just want to hear the truth." "Then I guess I am telling you what you want to hear."

When faced with a gospel lesson like today's, many preachers might find themselves in a similar predicament: Speaking the truth about Jesus in this story, and at the same time not just saying what people want to hear.

I say that because when you honestly look at this story Jesus does not behave very nicely here, and it might make some people uncomfortable to realize that about Jesus.

This puts the preacher between a rock and hard place, because to intimate that Jesus isn't very nice here in this particular Gospel story risks putting people's conception and perception of Jesus in doubt. And that could present a problem for some folks. "Why would a preacher risk doing that in the first place?", you might ask. Well, to convey a Gospel truth is this preacher's answer. So let's take an honest look at the text and see what we might discover.

"Jesus left Gennesaret and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon." For several chapters in Matthew's Gospel Jesus has been operating in and around the Sea of Galilee. Suddenly, and for no given reason, he decides to go on a road trip into a strictly Gentile region- the district of Tyre and Sidon, about 20 miles from Galilee along the northeastern coast of the Mediterranean. While there, a Canaanite woman recognizes him and pleads mercy from him for her daughter.

Two observations: One, Jesus' reputation has obviously preceded him, to the degree that upon seeing him, this foreigner recognizes him, and, more importantly, realizes Who He Is. She realizes Who He Is.

Second observation; not only is this person a woman, and a Gentile but she is a descendant of the Canaanites. You do remember the Canaanites, don't you, from the Bible stories you heard in Sunday School? The Canaanites were the residents of the Promised Land whom the children of Israel kicked out in order to take the land that God had promised them. Does this sound familiar?

So this woman recognizes and realizes who Jesus is, but it does her no good, not at first, anyway.

Now how does Jesus respond to her plea for mercy? That's right; he doesn't. In fact, to put it bluntly, he ignores her. He has every reason to do so: she's a woman, an unclean Gentile, and a Canaanite at that. It's possible that some in Jesus' company might have seen her as less than human. As we soon shall see, we hear with our own ears that Jesus sees her that way.

Getting uncomfortable for anyone yet? Fear not, we know how it comes out; let's stay with the text.

"But he did not answer her at all," says Matthew. "And his disciples came and urged him, saying, 'Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.'"

The context tells us that she persists after Jesus, and he keeps ignoring her to the point of embarrassment. So the disciples try to get Jesus to do something about this Canaanite woman who won't leave them be. Finally, at last, Jesus speaks to her, and he tells her that what he has he cannot give her. "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." Basically he's saying, "Lady, leave me alone, I cannot help you; for you are not an Israelite."

You may say it's a polite refusal, but it's a refusal, nonetheless. The fact of the situation is that Jesus does not want to help this woman, and no longer wishes to be bothered by her.

Question: Have we ever felt like this? Have we ever had our patience tried by someone to the point of boiling over, but instead say something as nice as possible through clenched teeth? If so, Jesus is a lot like us here, and it's important for us to realize that. It is essential to remember that Jesus was not only divine, but he was a real human being. He had human feelings, he felt things: sadness, disappointment, happiness, love, anger and even rage.

Far too often we downplay the human life of Jesus, making him only the divine son of God, so much so that we think he only walked through a life like ours.

Scripture tells us that Jesus lived a human life as we do, that he felt the same joys and pains and frustrations and sorrows as we do. So we can relate to Jesus and his sense of frustration, if we allow him to feel frustrated. And the text shows us that he does here.

Then a remarkable thing happened, and it took everyone by surprise, especially Jesus. This woman, an outsider to Jesus and his ministry, knelt before him and begged, "Lord, help me." She is desperate; her daughter is suffering horribly, and Jesus obviously represents her last chance to get her daughter any help.

Jesus now responds with his rationale as to why he cannot help her. He explains it to her using a metaphor.

Master storyteller that he is, Jesus knows that this will make it plain to her. "It is not fair," he answers her, "It is not fair [for me] to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs."

It may sound harsh, but it is the truth. Jesus has tried to get it across to her, and now has to put it this bluntly. We must not sidestep this comment. He has called her, and her people, dogs. That is completely in keeping with how a person of that religion, in that time and in that same position would have seen the exact situation in which we find Jesus with this story. And that is difficult for our ears to hear.

We don't want to think of Jesus acting like that; but unless we do, we might miss the whole point of this story.

The woman has heard these words from Jesus. She has been reminded of her station, of her position, of her place in life. On her hands and knees before him she may even look like a dog by the master's table. There may have been laughter after Jesus' comment. We don't know. But we do know what happened next.

A thought comes to her, she can hardly believe it. It is something that she has seen a hundred, if not a thousand times. Dare she say it? But she must, for if she doesn't she'll never have this chance to see him again.

"Yes, Lord," she stammers her daring reply, "yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table."

It is not a smart remark, is it not a disrespectful reply. It is matter of fact; she probably wasn't even looking at him when she said it. And it absolutely took Jesus by surprise. In fact, her comment becomes a moment of profound personal insight for Jesus in Matthew's Gospel.

Jesus meant what he said to the woman, the coming "only for the lost sheep of the house of Israel" bit, the "not throwing the children's food to the dogs" bit. He meant those things, hard as they sound. Up to this point, Matthew's Gospel has Jesus truly seeing that as his mission, and it all changed with this exchange. This woman's great faith actually opens Jesus up to the possibility that he has come not only for Israel, but for all people. She did that for him. In a sense, her faith heals him, saves him from a false vision of himself.

And as we move along in Matthew's gospel, we see these global inferences until the final scene where the risen Jesus says, "Go therefore into all the world and preach the good news to all nations." There's no mistaking his universal mission by the end of Matthew's gospel.

This conversation with the Canaanite woman represented a turning point for Jesus, because after this event, he leaves that area and heads back to Galilee. This is the only thing that Matthew records that happened on the road trip to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Clearly, Jesus went there needing to learn and grow into a broader understanding of what God wanted him to do. He got the lesson. And in exchange for that, he granted the woman her request- he healed her daughter. Finally, we see the Jesus we recognize; but we met a new and necessary side of Jesus along the way. Two final observations: How do we treat others who are not "like us"? Do we see in others the possibility that God loves them too and wants us to include them in our midst? Matthew clearly wanted to make this point to his mostly Jewish congregations at the time this gospel was written:

"Be intentional about including the Gentiles, for even Jesus came to understand that God wants to include them, too." It is a message we far too often miss; or it is talked about a lot, but not put into practice.

As a parish community, we need to think seriously about how to implement this point of the gospel.

Lastly, if even Jesus can grow in his understanding of how and to whom God wanted him to minister, then why can't we follow Jesus in this way, too, and allow ourselves the opportunity to grow and learn how God wants to use us?

One reason I find it important to keep the humanity and divinity of Jesus in balance is that if we only think of Jesus as divine, it truly is not helpful or useful to us. We cannot relate to a totally and only divine person. But we can relate to someone who has lived as one of us.

If Jesus himself has truly lived a life like ours, to the point of even having to learn and grow in his knowledge of how God wanted to use him, then we can take comfort when we find ourselves still in the process of figuring that out. And we should move ahead on that task at once, without fear or delay.

For it feels good to the bones to know that Jesus understands where we are in that process, having been there once himself. Perhaps those others that we need to meet can still help us discern and listen to what God is saying to us, just as the Canaanite woman did for Jesus.

Now, that may not be exactly what you wanted to hear today; but, if you have come wanting to hear the Truth, then I feel that I have, in some small way, told you what you wanted to hear.

The Rev'd Timothy M. Dombek
ST. JAMES EPISCOPAL CHURCH
301 Piney Mountain Road
Greenville, SC 29609-3035
(864) 244-6358
stjamesrector@mindspring.com

Copyright © 2002 Timothy M. Dombek All Rights Reserved.