31.
And, that number may be a bit conservative.
But according to the website stronginfaith, which I am not endorsing or know anything about.
31 is the number of accounts in the Bible of Jesus healing someone.
Those who were blind.
Those who were deaf.
People who were crippled.
Outcasts who were lepers.
Those whom the Bible describe as being possessed by demons.
As I have said before when we have looked at and thought about these stories from the Bible, understanding them is complicated. Complicated by 2000 years and cultural differences. Complicated by the difference between then and now in our understanding of illness and disease. Complicated, as a doctor friend reminded me, of the nuanced difference between being healed and being cured.
31.
That many stories, at least, of Jesus healing.
So, with that, this story from Matthew’s Gospel.
From the Paul Alcorn version of the Bible.
Here are the key figures.
Jesus.
Probably weary from being surrounded by and pushed in upon by crowds of people. Now taking a well deserved break at the home of a friend in the district of Tyre and Sidon.
The disciples.
Always with Jesus, but never quite getting what he was about.
And a Canaanite woman.
In Hebrew scriptures, Canaanites were the people displaced when the Jewish people conquered the land which would become Israel. In the time of Jesus, Canaanites may also have been a term to describe the non-Jewish population who lived in Israel. In either case, they were outsiders. Not Jewish. Gentiles.
So, now the story.
Jesus is relaxing with friends.
Taking a much needed break from the press and demands of the crowd.
Small talk mostly. None of the more serious stuff like Blessed are the peacemakers… or Treat others the way you would like to be treated. There may have even been a few jokes tossed back and forth. Suddenly, and completely uninvited, a Canaanite women approaches and begins calling out to Jesus. Shouting at Jesus, actually.
“Lord, my daughter is tormented by a demon.”
“Lord, my daughter is tormented by a demon.”
“Lord, my daughter is tormented by a demon.”
And, as we often find ourselves doing when we are walking down the streets of New York City and are approached by someone asking for change, Jesus and the others do their best to ignore the woman hoping she will get the message and go away.
But she is persistent.
Refusing to be ignored.
Refusing to go away.
Refusing to be quiet.
She becomes so bothersome that the disciples grow weary of her presence and interrupt their conversation and beg Jesus to send her away.
Now, this is where the story gets interesting.
Jesus speaks seemingly in response to both to the disciples’ plea and to the woman’s shout.
He says:
“I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”
In other words, somewhat dismissively to the woman, leave me alone.
I am Jewish and you are not.
I am numbered among God’s chosen, and you are not.
It is not my job to care about you.
But the woman, maybe because she was a mother and worried about her child, instead of giving up and going away comes closer and kneels in front of Jesus and says,
“Help me.”
“Help me.”
Jesus replies, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
But even in the face of such a racially tinged remark she doesn’t give up.
“But, Lord,” she said, still using a respectful title after what Jesus had said, “even the dogs get to eat the crumbs that fall from the master’s table.”
Then there is that moment with everyone present holding their breath.
What will Jesus say?
What will happen next?
Then this:
“Get up.” Jesus said. “Great is your faith. Your daughter is healed.”
You can imagine disagreement exists among scholars and Christians about how best to read and understand this story because, as it is, it paints a picture of Jesus which is not all that flattering. Jesus who we have been taught welcomes all, here ignores a woman because she is not like him. Because she is not as good as he is. And, Jesus who we believe teaches about God’s love for all, here refers to the Canaanites and, by inference to all non-Jews, as dogs. Jesus, who we were taught was perfect, here does not seem so perfect.
What are we to do with all of that?
I happen to like the story. I find it encouraging rather than disconcerting. The story portrays a Jesus bound by cultural stereotypes which, in truth, bind so many of us. But, it also shows Jesus changing and learning and growing because of the encounters he has. Because of a woman who, at great risk, was willing to push back against all of the cultural stereotypes and norms because of the love she had for her daughter.
In that moment…
That encounter…
Jesus learned and we learn that God was and is bigger than the circles we often draw around ourselves and around God. And God’s love was and is bigger than what he had been taught and we have been taught. And what he knew and what we know. And bigger, too, than what others around him and often around us, are willing to admit. God and God’s love is more than we know..
All this is well and good, but what does it mean.
As always you have the responsibility to take the story and to place it in the context of your own life to see what questions it asks of you and where your growing edges might be. But here is where the intersection is for me.
I found myself remembering and thinking about this story after I read a story in the news about Muslim congregation which had purchased a piece of property to use as a cemetery for their congregation. When their purchase and intent became public, a portion of the community reacted. Not here. Not them. Not in my backyard. The reaction against Muslim congregation and proposed cemetery was based on fears about radical Islam. There are good reasons to fear radical Islam. Just as there are good reasons to fear radical Christianity and radical Judaism and radical Buddhism and radical Hinduism. A better word might be extremism. But from what I have read about this issue and others like it and from my perception of our cultural stereotypes about Islam this is not about that. Not about extremism or a Muslim takeover of our country or community. This is about how we understand and think and talk about God and how we understand and think and talk about who is in and who is out. The author Anne LaMott reminds us, “You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.”
But the Gospel reminds us.
And, Jesus reminds us.
And the Canaanite woman who loved her daughter reminds us.
God is bigger than what we know and sometimes want to admit.
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