As we read our way through the gospel of Matthew this church year, different themes emerge. The readings over the last few weeks have been revealing the truth of Jesus’ humanity. A couple of weeks ago I spoke of Matthew’s tender revelation of this in the time after he learns of John the Baptist’s violent death. Jesus needed to withdraw from everyone – both his disciples and the crowds who were seeking him out – and be alone with God to deal, presumably, with emotions that felt overwhelming.
Today’s reading reveals, in a different way, how Jesus, the man who was fully human (at the same time as being fully God) grew and developed in his understanding of himself, and of his mission.
There is a tendency in some interpretations of the Gospels, to present us with a ‘perfect’ Jesus who was technically human, but he never messed up, never doubted, never backtracked. According to at least one carol, he never cried when he was a baby! And he would never have had to say he was sorry because he could never do or say or get anything wrong. He always had perfect reasons for saying the things he said and doing the things he did. So, if he happened, for example, to speak harshly rather than compassionately, or behaved in ways that were rude; if he refers obliquely to someone as a ‘dog’, well, he must have had ‘perfect’ reasons for doing so.
Actually, in terms of our understanding of the incarnation, this ‘perfect Jesus’ is dangerous territory, for we are in danger of finding ourselves in the world of a heresy – something that denies a truth at the core of our faith. An early 5th Century heresy called Eutychianism taught that Christ had a human nature but that his nature was quite different from the rest of humanity. Eutyches used an analogy, saying that Jesus’ humanity was like a drop of wine falling into a vast ocean that represented the divine essence. So while the humanity remained present it was entirely overwhelmed by the divinity, creating a single, blended, nature.
But the Jesus who appears in the Gospels is not a diluted human, nor a contaminated God. He is as fully human as he is fully God. We are back in the land of paradox that I talked about a few weeks ago. Jesus, the fully human man, grows and develops through his years as we do, makes mistakes and learns from them, as we do. He experiences human emotions as we do – fear, joy, sadness, anger. He’s real, he’s approachable, and he’s fully one of us. The “Good News” is that Jesus shows us – in real time, in years of a human life on earth, in the flesh – what it means to grow as a child of God, by doing just this.
In today’s Gospel passage, the story of Jesus and the Canaanite woman, Jesus faces one of his own blind spots. When asked for help by a fearful desperate mother, he first of all ignores her. He seems uncertain what to do. He doesn’t look at her, let alone engage with her. His attitude towards her is rude, suggesting that the woman (and her daughter) are akin to dogs, revealing a prejudice based on race and culture.
Surprisingly perhaps, the woman does not react angrily, or even challenge his reference to her as a dog, but continues to plead for her daughter, asking only to be allowed to receive a crumb of his gifts. Perhaps it’s this that breaks through, that jolts him out of any denial of her right to receive God’s gifts. Perhaps it’s a memory of the miracle that has just taken place where thousands of people were fed from crumbs, with many baskets left over. Perhaps Jesus is just beginning to understand the scandalous generosity of God. Whatever the thoughts and emotions that he experiences in the midst of this encounter, as this woman challenges him, Jesus allows himself to be changed.
The Jesus we encounter in this moment is fully human — he is a man of his time and place, shaped as we all are by the conscious and unconscious biases, prejudices, and entitlements of our culture. Moreover, at the same time, he is God incarnate. He is a holy Son working out the extent and the meaning of his divine vocation given to him by his Father. He knows he must share the Good News. But here he realises that the Good News is for everyone, even people like this mother and her child. It seems that even Jesus has to learn how radically good the Good News is.
This woman, encountered in a foreign land, challenges him. She challenges him to widen the welcome offered at the table of God. And eventually he concedes that she may be right. That God offers her new life in the good news too. She surprises him with the depth of her faith in him.
In this uncomfortable story in Matthew, Jesus is changed. Barbara Brown Taylor, an American Episcopal priest and theologian describes it like this: “You can almost hear the huge wheel of history turning as Jesus comes to a new understanding of who he is and what he has been called to do.” The Canaanite woman’s faith and persistence teach him that God’s purpose for him “is bigger than he had imagined, that there is more than enough of him to go around.”
So what about us, and what this story might teach us …What might it be like to step up and follow in the footsteps of this Jesus who finds it within himself to see, and listen to a woman he would prefer to ignore, and in the seeing and listening, to be changed by her? What if we really began to believe, and act on the belief, that the Good News of the Gospel is not limited; that it offers a generous welcome to all. That all really does mean all: the asylum seeker, the imprisoned, the homeless, the angry, hurt and needy person we meet on the streets when we are out and about, beyond the security of our church, our homes, our families?
We can be sure it won’t be easy. It wasn’t easy for Jesus. But he has walked before us. He has shown us that compassion can be cultivated; that we can grow into greater and more inclusive love.
So perhaps this week, as we read or watch the news, or go about our lives, and encounter people who scare us, or make us angry, or who we think are somehow beneath us can we at least turn to Jesus and ask for help to understand this Good News that is for all. Change seldom happens as quickly as it did in this story for Jesus. It takes time. And, often, it takes prayer.
But maybe this makes you feel really uncomfortable, and you’re not sure you like this wide inclusive love? Then the beginning of the change might be as gentle as asking Jesus, asking God, to help you to begin to want to understand the Gospel that calls us to include those we might feel should be excluded. To help us to understand more of what God’s generous love means in the world today, in your and my daily life today.
When we genuinely ask God for an opening of our hearts, love breaks in and we can trust that God will take us on the next step of our journey of faith, that will ultimately lead us joyfully from a good news that isn’t quite good enough yet, to a Good News that really is for everyone.