Kneeling at the Intersection of Persistence and Mercy

The Gospel reading appointed for this upcoming Sunday [Matthew 15:10-20, 21-28, RCL, the 11th Sunday After Pentecost] provides us with, by my count, the third consecutive “withdrawal” narrative about Jesus. Two weeks ago, we learned that, prior to feeding the multitude, Jesus had attempted to withdraw, perhaps to process the death of John the Baptist. In last week’s narrative, in which Jesus miraculously walks on the water, He had retreated to the mountain for centering prayer and communion with Yahweh. This week, following a heated argument with some Pharisees and “teachers of the law,” He withdraws to Tyre and Sidon [15:21]. No sooner has he done so, than he runs into a “Canaanite” woman with a troubled child.

It’s interesting that in Mark’s version of the story [Mark 7:24-30], the woman is described as “a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia [Mark 7:26]. The two characterizations of her are not contradictory, however. What is lost in our 21st century American world is that Matthew has introduced a racial slur into the mix. Technically, in the first century, no Canaanites are still living in Palestine. And so, referred to as a “Canaanite,” Matthew isn’t emphasizing the fact that she’s a Gentile; he’s stressing that her heritage traces back to some of Israel’s oldest enemies. According to Pharisaic understanding, joined here by the disciples’ own view of the woman, if any group should be left out of the Kingdom, it would be those whose ancestors were Canaanites.

Of course, there’s clearly more going on here than the airing of ancient prejudices. The woman has a problem. Her daughter is demon-possessed. She’s no doubt been to every specialist in town. No one has been able to help her. Her initial words to Jesus seem unusual to us. “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

There’s not a little irony here. This woman has addressed Jesus as “Son of David.” Within the Jewish context, that is an acknowledgment that Jesus is Messiah. And so, “the Canaanite” woman appears to understand who/what Jesus is and yet, his own disciples, having watched him perform healings and miracles for some time now, still don’t quite get the picture. Earlier in this week’s reading, when Peter is yet again confused by Jesus’ parabolic language, Jesus asks the Rock upon whom the Church will be built, “Are you still so dull?” [Matthew 15:16].

The disciples, who two weeks ago, when they saw it was getting on toward dusk and the crowd of people were still there, suggested to Jesus that they “send them away,” do the same thing here with this Canaanite woman. “Send her away,” they say. “She keeps crying out after us.” [15:23].

What we miss, with our English-listening ears, is a curious chorus going on between the woman and the disciples. Looking at the Greek, she’s pleading, “Kyrie Eleison” — the only Greek words later included in the Latin Mass. The disciples canticle is “Apolyson” (“Send her away), an alliterative echo of her cry to the Lord.

Commentators have spilled barrels of ink on the interplay between Jesus and the Canaanite woman. Here, he seems so “un-Jesus-like.” His initial response is silence. When he does respond, his response — look closely at 15:24 — isn’t to the Canaanite woman at all, but to the disciples. He reminds them that he was “sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” [15:24].

Her response is important. She approaches him and kneels. She utters only three words, “Lord, help me.”

Some commentators are so uncomfortable with Jesus’ response that they want to explain it away somehow. With seeming cruelty, Jesus retort, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs” [15:16].

A voice in the back of our hearts shouts out, “Did Jesus actually say that?”

The persistent Canaanite woman, struggling with the Lord, comes back with, “Yes it is, Lord. Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Jesus, impressed with her persistence, but even more impressed with something else about her, responds, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted” [15:28]. And Matthew relates — somewhat differently than does the Gospel writer Mark — that her daughter was healed at that moment.

Notice several things. First, the Canaanite woman did have great faith. It can be seen in the difference between the way she addressed Jesus and the way, seen in last week’s lesson, that Peter addressed our Lord as the latter was approaching the boat by walking on the water. Last week, Peter said, “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.” Had the Canaanite woman thought like Peter, she might have said, “If you are the Son of David, heal my daughter.” In her mind, there was no question as to whether Jesus could heal her daughter, her only concern was that — considering her heritage, her status as an “outsider” — would he do so.

Second, carefully note that at the beginning of the story, Matthew refers to her as a “Canaanite woman.” At the end of the narrative, however, Jesus looks at her with mercy in His eyes and addresses her without the pejorative. By the mercy of Christ, she is not defined by her lineage, but by her faith.

Third, and any of you that know me well know that I’m no fan of biblical concordances, but if we refer to such a concordance, we’ll discover that there is one — and only one — moment in the New Testament in which Jesus points to an individual and says that he or she has “great faith.” That moment is here. As if in response to this “great faith,” in the verses that follow today’s lesson, Jesus breaks out in healings that amaze the crowds and call forth the praise of God [15:29-31].

Perhaps I’ll draw some ire here, but I’d point out that this story is a favorite for some of my progressive pastor-friends because of what they contend are implications for New Testament theology. To some — not all — this is the story of a strong, aggressive single parent who casts aside the mores of her culture, speaking truth to power, and in doing so, frees Jesus from his sexism and racism by besting him in an argument, with the result that she becomes the vehicle of both Christ’s liberation and the deliverance of her daughter.

There is at least one problem with that argument: it’s the woman’s posture. Jesus responds to her when she’s on her knees. The woman, therefore, is not the agent of healing for her daughter, rather it is Christ’s infinite mercy. The woman’s persistence is important to the narrative, but it does not overshadow the mercy shown her by the Lord. After all, that was her initial request: “Kyrie Eleison.”

Her posture doesn’t diminish the level of her faith. It’s as if she knew that the mercy of God is sufficient, not only for the “lost sheep of Israel” [15:24], but for the entire world, even those who descend from enemies of Israel. Had not twelve baskets of remnants been gathered after the multitude had received their fill? The woman understands, I think, the true level of God’s Grace and Mercy, for she recognizes that even crumbs from the master’s table will be more than adequate for her needs.

The Canaanite woman had at least an inkling of something the disciples will not come to understand until after the resurrection: that Christ has a habit of standing at the intersection of Persistence and Mercy. Pulling this into our own context, the primary issue becomes whether we will kneel at that intersection before Him. Kneeling together, at the master’s table, we need only receive a few crumbs provided by God’s unending mercy. Those few crumbs will seek out our hunger and feed us with hope and life forever.