A Sermon Preached at Christos Metropolitan Community Church, Toronto, ON

and Holy Fellowship Metropolitan Community Church, London, ON

Sunday, September 7, 2003

You know all those bumper stickers, and t-shirts, and bracelets and what not that ask "WWJD" – What Would Jesus Do? You kind of don’t want to bring them out around this scripture, do you? You want to think twice about that.

Now, most of the time, using that phrase as a touchstone for our actions is not such a bad idea. In fact, it’s a GOOD idea, and I recommend it to you highly. I think most of us would like for our thoughts and words and deeds to be more like Christ. More loving. More just. More compassionate. That sort of thing.

What we probably DON’T need, is any example that would lead us to be more cranky. More bigoted. More downright rude. We can do that well enough on our own, thank you very much. And yet, here it is, right here in the Gospel of Mark that was read.

So what’s the problem here? The problem is, that even though this passage ultimately portrays Jesus healing this woman’s daughter, the real guts of the passage, the thing that draws our attention, is Jesus’ exchange with this woman.

She’s described by Mark as "a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin." Matthew actually, is a little clearer. He tells us that she’s a Canaanite. Remember the Canaanites? Waaaaay back in Genesis and Exodus? When Abraham traveled from Ur to the home that God showed him, he landed in Canaan. It says in Genesis that God gave the land to Abraham, but the Canaanites were already in the land when Abraham got there. And they were STILL there, when the Hebrews left Egypt and traveled back to the Promised Land. It’s important to remember that, when God’s people came to the land God had promised, there were people already there. Sort of like when the first Europeans came here.

And thus began a bad relationship that lasted for thousands of years, right up through Jesus’ time, because of the rotten ways they treated one another. In Jesus’ time, the Canaanites and the Jewish people had been enemies for longer than anyone could remember, they hated one another, and they taught their children to hate each other, and they called each other nasty names. And there’s this Canaanite woman. So, there’s a problem.

And the problem is, she’s not just a Canaanite. Canaanites were, by definition, Gentiles, and "proper" Jewish men of Jesus’ time did not associate with Gentiles. So there’s another problem. She’s a pagan. And there’s the worst problem of all. She’s a woman. A pagan, Canaanite, woman, with the chutzpah to approach Jesus in a social situation, when he’s gone out of his way to get away from people, on his day off.

So, I suppose I should cut Jesus a little slack here. He’s perhaps entitled to be a little irritated. A little cranky. But what perplexes me, is what he says to this woman. What he said was, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." Now, what he MEANT, when he referred to "the children," was that he was called first to carry the good news to Israel. And essentially what he MEANT was, "I don’t think I should be taking what I was given for this people first, and give it to some other people."

But, you know, when I tell you that, when I say, "What Jesus REALLY MEANT was...." I feel kind of like a "spin doctor." I feel kind of like those poor people who have to follow politicians around, we won’t name names here, and clean up after them. "Oh, the Premier was quoted out of context.... or What the candidate REALLY meant was....." Whatever.

But the problem is, usually the politician said it into an open mike, and the whole world knows that, in that unguarded moment, what he said really WAS PRECISELY what he meant in his heart of hearts. And often, no matter how the poor spin doctor tries to clean it up, it’s indefensible.

And Jesus has the same problem. He may not have said it into an open mike, but enough people remembered it – and believe me, when I tell you what he REALLY said, it’s memorable – that it made it into two gospels. Aside from the fact that this is, as near as I can tell, the only instance in ANY gospel where Jesus rebuffed anyone who came to him seeking help and healing, what he said was, he called her a dog. Not to put to fine a point on it, what he did was the Greek equivalent – and I’ve debated all week whether I can tell you this – it was the equivalent of calling her a bitch.

I can just hear you all thinking, "I can NOT believe she said that." But I did, and I’m not making it up. Now, I should tell you, that some people have interpreted and translated that differently. Some people have translated it as "little dogs".... puppies begging under the table, a term of endearment, not insult. But that’s not really consistent with the generally insulting tone of the conversation. In that context, dogs weren’t pets; a dog was a defiled and defiling animal. And "dogs" is what the Canaanites and the Israelites called one another.

But however you translate it, the word he used had all of the negative freight attached to it as that word does for us. It’s a put down. It’s total disrespect. It’s an insult to her and to ALL women. It de-humanizes her. And, given the state of Judean/Canaanite relations, it’s pure bigotry. It is VERY troubling to me to hear that from Jesus’ lips.

You remember the old song from South Pacific? "You've got to be taught to hate and fear... You've got to be carefully taught." By the time we’re adults, prejudices have been planted in us like so many evil weeds. We learn to fear and hate and judge and reject whole groups of people on the basis of superficial characteristics. We learn from our families, from one another, from our prejudiced interpretations of personal experience, from images in the media, to dislike and disregard, to assume, to make snap judgements so automatic and unconscious we don't even pause to question them. In this society, every one of us has some prejudice we need to unlearn. I have my own. If you think about it, you might find some, too.

I think, unfortunately, like us, Jesus was raised in such a society. Implicitly and explicitly he was taught that Canaanites were dirty, ate disgusting foods, didn't keep their houses clean, smelled funny, and couldn't be trusted. They were dogs. That's what they were called at the time. Dogs.

And, no surprise here, Canaanites were taught to hate Jews, too. They thought that Jews were intolerant, uncooperative, arrogant. To our shame, some people think that today, too, and it’s as false now as it was then, and the church has a LOT to answer for in helping to create and support those prejudices. The walls between those two peoples in Jesus' day were very strong, and they were based on religion, race, nationality, and a history of mutual hostilities leading to bloodshed. They’re dogs; treat them accordingly.

I can think of no other reason why Jesus would at first ignore this pleading woman as if she were invisible, and then refuse to help her, saying she is a dog who doesn’t deserve food from the children's table.

But the woman was persistent, and she was smart. She could have taken that insult personally, and she could have responded in kind. I wouldn’t have blamed her. I’m not sure I wouldn’t have called Jesus a fairly nasty name, myself, at that point.

Instead, she turned his nasty words back on him. You know that old saying that when you point a finger at someone, you have three fingers pointing back at yourself. Well, that’s the trap Jesus fell into. The woman pointed out to him that "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." Touche.... Touche.

You know how it happens sometimes... you’re in the middle of some argument... and you’re going strong... and all of a sudden, someone points out the one little thing you forgot... and you realize you’re wrong. You thought you were SO right, but you’re dead wrong. At that point, you have a choice. You can keep arguing. Or you can admit you’re wrong.

I remember one time... years ago. Someone hurt me badly, and I was mad. And I stayed mad, for years. They left the country, and I sure didn’t miss them, but then they came back, and contacted me. Said, let’s get together. And I agreed, because, after all those years, I had a few things I wanted to say to them. I rehearsed it all in my mind. I had all my words ready. They were wrong and I was righteous. Self righteous. And when they got into the car, I was just about to launch into my argument, when they said, "You know, I know I hurt you badly, I know I really messed up your life for a long time, and more than anything, I want you to know how sorry I am, and I hope you can forgive me."

Don’t you hate when that happens? I’ll tell ya. There is nothing that can take the steam out of a good head of self-righteousness quite like a request for forgiveness. What could I say? So I think I have an idea of how Jesus felt. Sort of an "Ooops" moment. This is Jesus at his most human. Fully divine, but also fully, completely, utterly, humanly, human. We humans have some faults. But we’re also the beneficiaries of extraordinary grace. And Jesus was full of grace. And so he was able to rise above his culture and his time, and open himself to this Canaanite woman.

You know, there’s a right way and a wrong way to lose an argument. When Jesus recognizes that the woman’s right, he grants her petition. Many of us don’t have nearly so much graciousness. I don’t always. Even when we KNOW that the other person’s right, sometimes we try to justify ourselves rather than agree and get on with the business at hand. But Jesus saw she was right, and was touched by her faith, and not only did he hear her prayer and heal her daughter, he unlearned the intolerance with which he’d been raised. He gave her not just crumbs from the table, but the whole feast.

And as much as I said it troubled me to hear those words from Jesus’ lips, it does NOT trouble my understanding of Christ that he was capable of learning and transcending the ways he had been socialized. Now, THAT’s something to look at when we ask ourselves, What Would Jesus Do?

And in doing so, Jesus learned and taught us – that in Christ and with Christ, we can unlearn our prejudices, too; that we connect with every other person on the planet at the level of our common humanity. And perhaps the hardest lesson we religious folks face, that God accepts the people we reject.

Bitterness is a poison that eats our own souls away and hatred kills our own spirit first. Better to claim the love of God who forgives us all and even accepts the people we reject. In Christ, forgiveness from God is possible. Even self-forgiveness is possible.

Now, I’m guessing that most of you here will agree, at least in principle, with what I’ve been saying here. We know God loves Jews and Gentiles, people of every race, and even us. But what about the people we reject? What about our prejudices? I have to ask myself, does God accept redneck, fundamentalist Baptist preachers? Does God love MY enemy, whatever face I might give them, whatever awful thing they have done to me?

You better believe it. And when you and I realize that, and let ourselves be led by the love of God rather than our anger or prejudice or bitterness, we recognize that these folks are our sisters and brothers, too. See, inclusivity is not only the welcoming and affirming of others, but also an ongoing process of unlearning the toxic prejudices that we retreat to when the going gets tough. It’s so much easier to categorize people and judge them without knowing them. We’re prone to exclude people we don't understand, or whom we have been told are our enemies. We can do that with fundamentalists, with homophobes, with folks who don’t vote like we do.

In this day and age, we get too many opportunities to disassociate ourselves with those we deem outsiders. But we follow the one who’s been there. The one who has said the exclusive and hurtful words and then repented. So we need to do the same. And by the grace of God, we can. We can because we follow one who has become human: the one who knows our human pain, our human joys, our human limitations, and also our human potential. And through the wonderful miracle of incarnation, God has redeemed us and showed us a better way, today through the persistent faith of a Canaanite mother.

I like sharing good news. And the good news is if God loves the people we reject, then God even loves us, for haven’t we all been rejected by somebody else? We may not get along with everybody. We don't see eye to eye. We have different tastes and values and ways of being in the world. But we are all brothers and sisters, my friends, children of a loving God. And like Christ, we can rise above whatever we have been taught, whatever we have believed, whatever we have imagined. And God wants us to love one another. So how about it?  Are you willing to let the love begin with you?