Matthew 15:10-28
How
do we learn? I don’t have a specific answer in mind when I ask that question;
I’m just putting it out there. How do we learn? Are you a visual learner? Do
you understand more by seeing how something works rather than hearing about it
or reading about it? Do you learn by doing? Or can you pick up an instruction
manual, read through it, then go and repair a small engine? Some people can.
I’m not sure how to classify my learning style; it may be a combination of all
of the above, except for the repairing of the small engine, although you never
know. But when I ask this question, it isn’t just about learning skills; I’m
also asking how do we learn about the world, about life, about people?
One
of my favorite movies from the 1980’s was “War Games,” starring a very young
Matthew Broderick. He played an underachieving, high school genius, computer
geek before any of the rest of us realized what computers were going to mean
for our lives. With the help of some other computer friends, he hacked into the
military thinking he was going to play some cool new war simulation games.
Well
they were war simulation games, but the main computer thought they were
real. The computer, known as Joshua, thought that attacks were being launched;
and to make a long story short, it had to learn what the real outcome of
nuclear war would be before it started an actual nuclear war.
This
movie came out in the latter days of the Cold War with the Soviet
Union . It spoke to the greatest fear of my childhood, and probably
to the greatest fear of my older sister and brother’s generation as well:
nuclear war. Two weeks ago, when the tension and rhetoric with North
Korea was blisteringly high, I thought about
this movie. Spoiler alert: Joshua the computer does indeed learn and stops the
launch of a full-out nuclear war at the last, most dramatic, moment. The
computer’s last words of the movie are:
“A
strange game. The only winning move is not to play. How about a nice game of
chess?”
So
the computer, Joshua, learned. We know that we learn, or are at least capable
of learning. So here is my fundamental question: did Jesus learn? Did Jesus
learn something from the Canaanite woman?
This
is a hard question for many of us, because it smacks up against our
understanding of who Jesus was. But we claim that Jesus was both fully human
and fully divine, so if Jesus was fully human, does that mean that there were
things Jesus needed to learn?
Our
passage starts with an explanation from Jesus about what really defiles. All we
hear are his words to the crowds, but they were spoken after a confrontation
with some Pharisees and scribes. The religious folks were upset that Jesus’
disciples did not perform the ritual hand washing before they ate that purity
laws demanded. We wash our hands before we eat for the sake of hygiene. Observant
Jews, however, performed hand washing and other ritual cleansing for the sake
of those purity laws. To not perform the ritual washing was to be unclean; to
be unclean, or to be defiled was to be separated from God.
Jesus
turned their argument back on them. He called them hypocrites. He lifted up
words from the prophet Isaiah,
“This
people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do
they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.”
Now
we catch up to our passage. Calling the crowds around him, Jesus told them
about what really defiles. It is not what goes into your mouth. It is what
comes out of your mouth. Because what comes out of your mouth comes from what
is in your heart. That is where you find defilement or cleanliness. Is your
heart defiled? Is it unclean? Or is it close to God?
All of this is
great. I’m cheering Jesus on with every word. But then he left that crowd and
that place, and he and the disciples traveled to the district of Tyre and Sidon .
This was a Gentile region. There a Canaanite woman, a Gentile, approached him,
shouting at him,
“Have mercy on me,
Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.”
We expect people
to come shouting after Jesus, calling after him, touching the hem of his robe. But
we don’t expect what happened next – nothing. Nothing happened. Jesus ignored
the woman. He said nothing to her, just continued on as though she had not
spoken or approached him at all. The disciples could not ignore her. They urged
him to send her away. She was a bothersome woman who kept shouting at them, and
she was getting more annoying by the minute.
Jesus spoke then, but his answer, although
directed at the woman, was actually spoken to the disciples.
“I was sent only
to the lost sheep of the house of Israel .”
But this Canaanite
woman, this mother of a sick child, was undeterred. She knelt before Jesus,
which in the Greek context would have been seen as an act of worship, and said,
“Lord, help me.”
The Jesus we think
we know would have relented at that moment. He would have shown her the same
compassion he showed the crowds. He addressed her at last, but what he said
hurts to hear. Jesus told the woman,
“It is not fair to
take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
This woman, this
Canaanite woman, this mother with a sick child, was undeterred. She did not
slink away crushed and broken. If Jesus’ words hurt her, we do not glean that
information from the text. Instead, what she did next was powerful. She turned
Jesus’ words back on him.
“Yes, Lord, yet
even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”
It was a bold
statement for anyone to make, but it was especially bold for a Gentile woman, a
Canaanite woman, to make to a Jewish rabbi. But this was a mother with a sick
child, and she was undeterred. Jesus heard her. Not only did he hear her, he
rewarded her persistence. Her faith, Jesus declared, was great! Her desire was
granted. The woman’s daughter was healed instantly.
Sure it’s a happy
ending. The woman got what she wanted. But why did Jesus respond the way he
did? It seems especially ironic after his teaching about a person’s heart and
what really defiles. If what is in our heart defiles us than is this what was
in Jesus’ heart? Did Jesus’ heart hold racism? Sexism? The woman had to
convince Jesus to help her daughter. What was in Jesus’ heart?
There
are many theories as to what Jesus was trying to do with his response to this
woman. One is that the story would not have sounded as harsh to the original
hearers as it does to our modern ears. Perhaps the saying about the children
and the dogs was from an ancient proverb; one that would not have been
offensive to the people living in the time of Jesus. Maybe Jesus was using the word for dog
affectionately, as if he were addressing a puppy. The Greek word for dog used here does
make the distinction between a household animal and the wild, stray dogs that
roamed during that time. The problem with this theory is that the Aramaic Jesus
spoke did not contain this particular distinction.
There
is the possibility that this was Jesus’ way of testing the woman’s faith. If
she passed the test, then her request would be granted. He tested. She passed.
But when did Jesus test people before he healed them or their loved ones? I
can’t think of another example. He did not make the crowds pass a test before
he fed them. He might have turned the tests that the religious scholars used to
try and trap him on their heads, but he didn’t test the people who came to him
for help.
Another
possibility is that this story must be taken just as it is; harshness and
all. Jesus was a Jewish man of his day.
He lived in a particular context and that context included chauvinism toward
women and suspicion of outsiders, others. One commentator I read, wrote, “His
limited perspective is in part corrected by the clever retort of a desperately
bold woman, who convinces him that Gentiles must also share in God’s bounty.”
Does
that mean that Jesus learned? Does that mean that this woman pushed him to see
with a new perspective? Does that mean that her persistence, her undeterred
pleading changed his mind, opened his mind and taught him something?
Yes,
I know that idea, that possibility makes us uncomfortable. Yes, I realize that
pushes back against what we have been taught to believe and understand about
Jesus. But Jesus was fully human. As one commentator put it, Jesus endured all
of the tests and trials that all humans do, but he did not sin. Maybe not
sinning does not mean that Jesus didn’t have something to learn. Maybe
not sinning means that Jesus actually did learn. When confronted, he did not
fall back on excuses or defensiveness to justify his position. Maybe he learned
from this Canaanite woman, this Gentile, this other, saw that he was wrong and
immediately corrected course. Maybe not sinning was that he learned, heard her
and changed direction. He was open to her pleas, to what he could learn from
her, and to what God was speaking through her.
Did
Jesus learn? It seems to me that if he did, then that is our good news. Because
it means that we still have much to learn. It means that not only is God still
speaking, but may be speaking to us through the most unlikely of people; people
who are undeterred in making us listen, undeterred in calling us to see. Jesus
learned, and if Jesus learned, then so can we. May we be undeterred in
faithfulness. May we be undeterred in learning. May we be undeterred in being
willing to change and correct our course when God sends us a new lesson. May we
be undeterred.
Thanks
be to God!
Let
all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!” Amen.
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