Sermons
Beyond the BoundaryPastor Russell Norris |
Last week in Bible class we got off the track and ended up reminiscing about old television stars - names like Ernie Kovacs and Dave Garroway, Jack Benny and Jackie Gleason, and of course, the great Red Skelton. Who could forget Red Skelton and his cast of characters? I still remember the guy with the disheveled clothes and the crumpled hat - what was his name? Freddy the Freeloader - that was it! Freddy the Freeloader. Seems like Freddy was always in trouble, always the odd man out.
Well, when I read the gospel this morning, believe it or not, that's who I was reminded of: Freddy the Freeloader. Maybe some of you remember the routine where Freddy was passing by a church - a beautiful, impressive looking church, something like this church - and he heard the sound of beautiful music coming from inside. Moved by the music, he decided to go inside.
But when he walked up to the front doors, he was met by two burly ushers, who wanted to know what he was doing there.
"Well, I heard the music, and just wanted to come in and listen," he said.
The ushers looked at his rumpled clothes and his crumpled hat, and they said, "You're in the wrong church - you probably want the Salvation Army church down the block." And with that, they closed the doors.
Well, Freddy thought about that for a minute and decided that, no, this was where the music was, and this was where he wanted to go. And so he walked up the front steps again, and in the doors - where he was met by the same two burly ushers, who patiently explained he really didn't belong there, and then took him by the arms and escorted him back to the sidewalk. Then they dusted themselves off, walked back in the church and closed the doors.
Not to be deterred, Freddy walked back up the stairs a third time and into the church. This time the ushers weren't so polite. Taking him by the scruff of the neck and the seat of the pants, they threw him out the door and down the steps to the sidewalk. There he sat, dazed, confused, and disappointed. Suddenly there was a great light from heaven, and a voice boomed out, "Don't feel bad, my son, I've been trying to get into that church for years!"
Now listen again to the words of our gospel this morning:
Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Just 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." But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, "Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us." He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But she knelt before him, saying, "Lord, help me!"
A strange kind of story, isn't it, and a tough one for us to understand. What's going on here? Why is Jesus apparently unwilling to help this poor woman? He doesn't answer her. He says she's not the kind of person he was sent to help. He even calls her a dog: "It's not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." What is going on here? What is this story about? And why is it even in the Bible?
Maybe it would help if we stepped back for a minute, and looked at this story in a wider context. Where does it come in the gospel of Matthew - what's been going on that's led up to this story? Maybe there's a clue as to why Matthew put this story where it is.
Well, if you look back over the last few chapters of Matthew, Jesus has been wandering around Galilee teaching. And you know that when Jesus teaches, most of the time he does it in parables - pithy little stories from everyday life designed to teach us some deep truth. Over the last few weeks, we've heard a bunch of these parables in the gospel.
For example, the Kingdom of Heaven is like - oh, it's like a field where a farmer sowed good seed. But when the wheat germinated and began to grow, there were weeds growing in the field along with the wheat.
"Master, do you want us to go rip up those weeds from your good wheat?"
"No," he said to his hired hands, "just let the weeds and the wheat grow together. I'll sort it all out when the harvest comes." (Matthew 13:24ff.)
Here's another: The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed, smallest of all the seeds - really tiny. But when it was planted and grew, it grew and grew until it was the height of a large weed, maybe three feet high, so big that the birds could come and nest in its branches - small birds! (Matthew 13:31ff.)
The disciples weren't sure where all this was leading: "Jesus, are you talking about us? We don't like being compared to a bunch of weeds!"
Okay, said Jesus, "the Kingdom of Heaven is like a net that is cast into the sea. And when it's pulled up, it's full of all kinds of fish, and creepy, crawly critters, and strange slimy things all mixed in with the fish. God's kingdom is kind of like that." (Matthew 13:47ff.)
Huh? said Peter, "you want to explain some of this stuff to us!" (Matthew 15:15)
So Jesus says, "Let's take a trip." And with that, they headed out north and west of Galilee to Tyre and Sidon. Now, you've got to understand, Tyre and Siden weren't really very good places to go if you happened to be Jewish. They were a little like Oregon or Washington State, among the least religious places in the country. They were gentile country.
And wouldn't you know it, as soon as they get there, in comes this woman - this gentile woman, this outsider - pushing her way through the gathered disciples, and screaming at the top of her lungs about how Jesus needs to heal her daughter.
Now the disciples, who had apparently decided their job was to protect Jesus from all the crazies, the disciples urged him to send the woman away. "Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us." Just get rid of her.
And at first, Jesus seems to agree. He says, "Look lady, I'm not here for you. I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. And it's not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." (This doesn't seem to be one of Jesus' better moments.)
But at least he's being consistent! Because all through the gospel of Matthew, Jesus has made it clear that his mission is to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. This was how God was going to bless the world, by gathering the scattered children of Abraham.
And yet this woman is a gentile, a Canaanite. She's not part of Israel. We're way out here in Tyre and Sidon, beyond the boundaries of Israel, in gentile country. And besides, this is a woman! How dare a woman approach a distinguished rabbi like Jesus? Women weren't supposed to do that. So the disciples tell Jesus to send her away.
But this is not the kind of woman who is easily discouraged. Instead she engages Jesus in a debate: "Dog I may be, but even the dogs are allowed to gather up the children's crumbs from under the table. That's all I'm asking!"
And her argument gets to him. Jesus is amazed, and he says, "O woman, how great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And her daughter was healed instantly.
Well that's the story. And a strange story it is. It seems so out of character for Jesus. But maybe not. Maybe not. Remember this story, in Matthew, follows a whole string of puzzling, hard to understand parables of Jesus. A lot of them are parables about a messy kind of kingdom, where weeds crop up out of nowhere, where the net is filled with fish both good and bad, where the Kingdom of God is like crabgrass spoiling a perfectly beautiful lawn. (And believe me, I know about crabgrass. I live on the Cape.)
Well, all of this makes me wonder if this woman, this Canaanite woman, this gentile, might also be a kind of parable. Maybe Jesus is trying to teach us something. Sometimes Jesus tells parables to help us see something we hadn't seen about him - or maybe didn't want to see! And sometimes Jesus does parables to help us see something about him - and about ourselves - that we hadn't seen, or maybe didn't want to see.
Here's Jesus out beyond the boundaries. We're not in church here. We're not in Bible study or Sunday School. We're somewhere out in Tyre and Sidon. We're not gathered with nice church people. We're confronted by a pushy woman who desperately needs a miracle for her sick daughter, and who refuses to be put off by Jesus' disciples, or even by Jesus.
Maybe we wish that like Freddy the Freeloader, she would just go away. Hasn't Jesus been perfectly clear? He's here for us. We are the chosen people, the good people, Lutherans! - the sort of people who would get up and come to church even in the middle of August. Come on, Jesus, send her away, so we can get on with our kingdom.
Our kingdom? Whose kingdom is it in these parables of Jesus? Whose boundaries are the walls that we put up? What kind of a picture do we get from this story? If we are the disciples, the church, then it looks like the church consists of the people on the inside who try to protect Jesus from being bothered by the people on the outside. How do you like that picture of the church? Does it sound plausible? Does it ring true?
What a friend we have in Jesus! Yes, we do. Jesus is our friend. And we've come together here on a hot Sunday in August to be close to Jesus. And maybe it's only human to want Jesus to be our special friend and no one else's. I've known congregations that like to say they're a "friendly" church. What that usually means is that those in the congregation experience that church as warm and caring and friendly.
But the very quality that makes a church feel friendly and warm to those on the inside, can make it feel just the opposite for those on the outside. When we first moved to the Cape, we visited several churches, looking for a church home. One congregation had a reputation for being a warm and friendly church. We sat in the last pew, next to a member of that church. But no one - including the person we were sitting with - no one greeted us, no one said hello, no one asked if we were new to the area. I found out later that the person we sat with was chair of the outreach committee!
All three of the lessons this morning talk about boundaries - about insiders and outsiders. Isaiah talks about the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord and who love the name of the Lord, and he says, "My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people."
Jesus uses the same words when he drives the money changers out of the Temple on Palm Sunday. "My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people."
In Romans, Paul struggles with what to do with the Jewish people. They don't accept Jesus as the Messiah. Are they lost? Has God rejected them? No, says Paul, "for the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable." God's promises are for both Jews and gentiles.
And in the gospel this morning, Jesus uses this poor woman in such desperate need to teach his disciples that God's love is for everyone - even those who live beyond the boundary.
What does this story say to us? What does it say to you? We look around the church this morning, and we all look and act and talk pretty much the same. Yet just outside the doors and across the street is a Campello filled with people who don't look and act and talk like us at all. What does the gospel say about them? It says the Kingdom of God is a messy place - filled with all kinds of people - foreigners, Jews, gentiles, even Lutherans! And God loves them all. So you see, when Jesus says, "my house shall be called a house of prayer for all people", he really means it! Amen