Hi everyone,
Here are the readings from today, the 16th Sunday after Pentecost, September 8, 2024:
And here is the sermon, with the manuscript below it:
Holy God, send your Spirit upon us, that in both our strength and weakness, we might see you working, hear you speaking, and feel your love empowering us always, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.
It’s always a bit more nerve wracking when preaching in front of people that I don’t normally preach in front of. It’s always a bit more anxiety inducing because I really want to say the right words in the right way so that you all will have your socks knocked so utterly and completely off. My palms are always a bit more sweaty as I try all the harder to impress.
Not saying that I’m not impressive for my own folk like every week, I’m pretty sure that I totally am. It’s just that… on these special Sundays I really want to bring my A-game. On these more infrequent encounters I really want to lead with my best foot forward. On these times when I’m meeting some people for the first time, I just want to sound like I know what I’m talking about. I mean it’s true what they say, you only get one chance to make a first impression. And while many of you may already have had a first impression of me, I can at least try to improve it.
But that’s just me. And maybe… that’s you as well. Maybe not in a preaching capacity but when you know you’re going to meet someone for the first time, like someone that you look up to, perhaps you dress up a little, spend a bit more time in front of the mirror, maybe be a bit more careful to make sure that there’s nothing stuck in your teeth. When you’re preparing to encounter an important or special someone, like maybe at a job interview or a friend’s parents or maybe even someone you connected with online, maybe you take a bit more time in thinking about what you’ll say and maybe even rehearse it a little. If you knew that you’ll be making a first impression on someone, maybe you do what you can to make sure that it’s a good one.
So maybe you know what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ve felt it. Maybe you were thinking about that this morning on your way here. Maybe you mulled over it all week, or perhaps more realistically, all this past Friday, as you were writing a sermon. Or maybe you can relate to what this Syrophoenician woman we read about in today’s gospel reading might have been going through.
I mean think about it. Jesus, who has somehow been making a name for himself in spite of him telling everyone not to talk about him, was arriving in her city. She had heard stories of what he has done so she probably has hopes and dreams about what he can do for her family. Jesus’ super secret headquarters was leaked somehow and she got the skinny on where he’ll be. There is no way that she wouldn’t have been super nervous about this.
Why would she be nervous, you ask? Well, she is Syrophoenician for one, which in case you don’t know, means that she isn’t of Israelite descent. So an outsider. She is also a woman, which in case you don’t know, means that she had even less power and authority and even the right to approach a such a celebrity like Jesus. But she is also the mother of a sick child, which means that she’ll let nothing… and I mean nothing… stand in her way. She finds the strength, she musters the courage, and with boldness and faith in the goodness of this person Jesus Christ she bows at his feet and begs him to help her daughter.
And what happens? She gets called a dog.
Not as in a fond colloquial urban term, like a “what up dog” kind of way. But in a derogatory, demeaning, and downright racist way.
And we are flabbergasted. We read this and think, “whoa, did Jesus just call that woman a dog?” We hear this read and think, “there is no way that Jesus just called her a dog.” We might even preach on this and think, “We have to find a way to justify Jesus calling her a dog.”
We’ve heard those sermons before, haven’t we? Sometimes they pretty it up saying that Jesus actually meant “puppy” as in a cute, cuddly animal that we’d love to take care of. That actually isn’t the case. Or some say that Jesus was intentionally and uncharacteristically mean to her just to test her and have her prove her faith. Now when have you known Jesus to ever test someone’s faith by calling them names? And even still others might say that Jesus said this to point out the folly of the day’s mentality and show everyone around him how mean they can be to foreign outsider women who are in need. But I don’t know any other time when Jesus would have used such a tactic, to pretend to be meaner than he is to prove a point.
The truth is, I think Jesus was tired, hungry, and maybe a bit annoyed that he was being asked yet again for something. I mean, is that all Jesus is good for? Handing out hand-outs and not taking care of himself? Being a healer on call? Acting as some sort of divine vending machine where one would insert a prayer or two and expect a blessing or miracle to come out?
I think it was out of that, that Jesus calls this woman a dog. I think it was out of his frustration of the way the world is that he frankly and bluntly calls a spade a spade. I think it was out of his divine and Godly knowledge that he exclaims to this poor woman in need that “it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Because you know what? Jesus isn’t wrong.
Now, before you throw me out with the dogs, hear me out. I’m sure we know that dogs in those days weren’t seen as the loyal furry friends that we see them as today. I’m sure that we probably realise that dogs back then were truly mangy wild animals that scavenge for scraps like those hyenas from Disney’s The Lion King. This is why using the term “dog” to refer to someone wouldn’t exactly be a compliment.
So Jesus isn’t wrong in saying that it wouldn’t be fair to take food from a child and give it to such an animal. Jesus isn’t wrong in saying that we would likely care for our own offspring over a feral beast. Jesus isn’t wrong in saying that dogs don’t exactly deserve the same treatment as our own kids.
Rather, I think we are wrong in thinking that Jesus was out of line here. I think we are wrong in assuming that Jesus calling this woman a dog must mean that he was putting her down. I think we are wrong in equating ourselves as anything but this same undeserving, fallen-short, born on the wrong side of the tracks, sinner.
Because the fact of the matter is, none of us deserve that food. None of us deserve God’s blessing and grace. None of us deserve to be loved.
But the good news is, as it was for this beautiful and wonderful and faithful Syrophoenician woman, this outsider that really had no place in even looking in Jesus’ direction, this sinner by birth, is that we get the food anyway. We don’t deserve it, but God chooses to save us out of grace. We don’t deserve it, but Jesus decides to forgive us out of love. We don’t deserve it, but we are all welcomed and included in the kingdom by the Spirit and are reformed from being that unwanted and unworthy dog to be wholly and eternally beloved children of God.
Again, Jesus is right, it’s not fair. But that is why God’s grace is so great. That in spite of the odds and how much we don’t deserve it, God blesses us out of abundance. Instead of giving us what we rightfully should get, God gives us more than we could ever ask or imagine. In the face of what we find to be fair and right and just according to our narrow worldviews, we are, even in our sin, embraced and held and dearly loved by the hands that created the universe.
You see, my friends, we might want to look good and maybe even be better and there is nothing wrong with that. We might want to step with our best foot forward and I would even encourage that. We might want to make exceptionally good first impressions, and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But we mustn’t forget who we are and whose we are, and how this Almighty God that loves us, forgives us, and saves us from whatever shame and guilt the world or we ourselves, might throw at us.
So in this time of meeting and community building, may we see God’s grace in each other, knowing that while we might be different in many ways, it is the same God that connects us, the same faith that we share that lifts us up, and the same love and forgives and saves us all. Thanks be to God. Amen.