As a Baptist child, my Sunday mornings were all about church. After the worship time and then Sunday School, children gathered in the pews to sing VBS tunes and children’s hymns. 

"Tell me the stories of Jesus" was a favorite song of mine.  Here are the first couple of verses:

Tell me the stories of Jesus I love to hear,

Things I would ask him to tell me if he were here.

Scenes by the wayside, tales of the sea, Stories of Jesus, tell them to me.

Oh, let me hear how the children stood round his knee.

I shall imagine his blessing resting on me;

Words full of kindness, deeds full of grace,

All in the love-light of Jesus’ face.

These words painted a vision for me of who Jesus was. Someone who loved being with children who was known for his gentleness and kindness. It’s an image many of us share.

When we hear a Gospel story about Jesus rejecting a woman whose child is ill, it feels uncomfortable…disconnected.

It’s tempting to think, well, maybe Matthew got this one wrong. But, this same story is remembered by Mark…And Mark paints an even harsher image of Jesus than Matthew. Both Gospel writers remember a time when Jesus was clearly having a bad hair day.

What is going on in this text? We have to dig deeply to find the fullness of the story. 

The person who approaches Jesus is unnamed. Throughout the story, she will be described as a woman, a Canaanite, a gentile, and an outsider.  There’s a lot packed into those adjectives.

In her day, women were second-class citizens. She is Canaanite, the very people God cleared out of the promised land to make way for the Israelites. She is not Jewish. And, she is from the district of Tyre and Sidon—not Judah.

The author is going out of his way to say, “She’s from not from around here, folks.”

And, yet, she is… 

Jesus is not in his homeland. The text tells us that he and the disciples have left Judah and traveled to Tyre. He is in this woman’s nation—in her capital city. It is Jesus who is the foreigner in this story.  Yet, the author, and Jesus, identify her as the outsider.

Some years ago, I was in the elevator of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. As we were riding upwards, people were chatting. All of the tourists were Americans. One person asked the elevator attendant what time the last elevator departed from the observation deck. The attendant didn’t flinch…or respond…or make any eye contact with anyone. 

I have one well-worn phrase and I used it: “Je suis désolé, j’ne parle pas Français [I’m sorry, I do not speak French]. What time does the last elevator depart?”  He said, “11pm.”  And then he looked at the other American and said, “You just assume I speak English.  Why?”

It’s an interesting trait of human nature. Wherever we go—even 5,000 miles away--we see the world through our own cultural lens, our life experiences.

The encounter between the woman and Jesus begins when Jesus arrives in Tyre; the woman seeks him out…as if she’s been waiting for him. She starts shouting: “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” “Son of David”… she knows the human lineage of Jesus. 

Matthew says, ‘Jesus ignored her.’

It’s an extraordinary exchange. A woman approaches a man…and a foreigner at that!  She correctly identifies him as a descendant of David, the King of Judah. She knows he is something more than just another guy. He is a Healer…someone with a proven track record of casting out demons.

Her action tells us that Jesus is known beyond the borders of Judah. Even here, in her land, he is known. And though, as a woman, she knows her voice carries very little weight, she believes that he will heal her child.

The woman begs him to cast the demon out of her daughter.  Jesus’ response is rude. It was rude 2,000 years ago and it’s rude today. He doesn’t say ‘No, I’m very busy, I don’t time to do this’. He says to her, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”[1] Jesus is saying that his gifts are meant for the people of his homeland, the Judeans. And he refers to the woman and her child as dogs…unfit and unworthy.

The message of scarcity implicit in this story is shocking.….as if there isn’t enough of Jesus for all of us. Scarcity is a human conflict.  How does Jesus get caught up in scarcity?

We often focus on Jesus as ‘the Word become flesh who dwells among us’, the incarnation of God; it’s easy to forget that Jesus is both fully divine and fully human.

Matthew and Mark are revealing to us a much fuller image of Jesus.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, author of “Not in God’s Name,” offers this insight about God: “…The most radical of monotheism’s truths: is that God may choose, but God does not reject. The logic of scarcity [he says] has no place in a world made by a God whose ‘tender mercies are on all his works.’”[2]

God does not reject. The woman seems to know this. She pushes back at Jesus. Notice how she starts her response: “Yes, Lord, yet…” She addresses Jesus by a Divine name. And Jesus hears her…He responds, “Woman, great is your faith.”[3] 

She has seen both his humanness and his divinity. And her faith is appropriately placed in his Divine nature.

The Healings performed by Jesus are signs to us of God’s presence among us.

Word of these signs traveled hundreds of miles over the 3 years of his ministry. There were no planes, trains, or automobiles. There were no iphones, faxes, or even the US Postal Service. People heard about these signs by word of mouth…from one person to another…across borders, cultures, and beyond the privileged class.

Life by life, the witness of these signs changed the world.

Today, word of these Signs still passes from one person to another.

Last week, St. Christopher’s blessed 36 backpacks for school students, filled them with supplies, and delivered them for the first day of school. We provided uniforms to children at Hazel Harvey Peace Elementary School. We volunteered at a Laundry Love yesterday, helping more than 40 families launder a month of clothing.

Today, we will bless a blanket given by a parishioner for our Second Sunday children’s ministry. When it’s time for the children’s sermon, they will spread out this blanket and have a sacred space to sit and hear the Word of God.

All of our gifts are more than just stuff…more than just time…more than just money.

They are Signs of the divine in a world that is starved for hope and kindness.

May those who receive the gifts of this congregation recognize the human love that made each gift possible and the divine Love embedded in them. 

[1] NIV

[2] Not in God’s Name: confronting religious violence; Rabbi Jonathan Sacks p124

[3] NRSV