16 August 2020 Saint
Athanasius Lutheran Church
Pentecost 11 Vienna, VA
“Lord! Save! (And He
Does!) - Part 2”
Text:
Matthew 15:21-28
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God
our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
Lord, save!
That was the cry of Peter last week. And that is really the cry of the
Canaanite woman we hear about this week as well, though she does not use those
exact words. But that’s what she’s asking. Lord, save! My daughter. Who is severely oppressed by a demon.
Two weeks, two cries, the
same cry, really. But a difference, too. Last week,
the one who cried out had a little faith where we could have expected a great
faith. And this week, the one who cries out has a great faith where we could
have expected a little faith. How often things get
topsy-turvy when Jesus is around. He hangs out with sinners, not
religious leaders. He praises those who repent, not
those who think they’re good. And it is a disciple - and one of His inner circle! - who has a little faith,
while a Canaanite woman has great faith.
If you ever think you
have Jesus all figured out . . . better think again.
So, I was thinking . . .
what if this woman and her daughter had been in the boat with the disciples
last week? Last week, Peter jumped out. This week, it’s more like the daughter
had gotten thrown out of the boat, or was pushed by the unseen hand, the unseen
spirit, that was oppressing her. In either case, her mother cries out as Peter
did: Lord, save! My daughter is sinking!
The first response is,
well, no response. Nothing. Nada.
Jesus may not have even looked at her.
That’s frustrating,
right? Not to be heard. It’s the cause of so much unrest in our country today.
People feel they are not being heard. And so they are rising up in anger. Making
their voice be heard in rioting and rebellion. We won’t
be ignored. And this woman could have done the same. Hey! Don’t ignore me! You a chauvinist or something? I have a right to be heard!
Uh,
no. No you don’t. Not before God. In a
country with a government of the people, by the people, and for the people,
maybe so. But before God we have no such right. We forfeited that when
we decided sin was the way we wanted to live. That without God and His Word was
the way we wanted to live. A choice you and I continue to make today when we
sin. So if God hears you, it’s not because you have a right to be heard. It’s
because of His grace and mercy.
Which
this woman knows. In that culture, at that time, as a woman and a
Gentile among Jews, she was probably used to being ignored. So she’s not
offended or indignant. But she also doesn’t give up . . .
Lord, save! My daughter
is sinking!
She gets a response this
time. But not from Jesus - from His disciples. Lord, send her away, for
she is crying out after us. That always sounded to me like the
disciples just wanted to be rid of her. But Luther didn’t interpret it that
way, and Jesus’ answer doesn’t make sense if that is the case. For in response
to the disciples, Jesus says: I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of
Israel. Like, I would help, but . . .
So Luther interpreted
this as the disciples interceding for her. For often times, when Jesus would
send someone away, it was because He granted their request. So here, it would
seem, are the disciples trying to help. For Jesus said, after all, ask, and
it will be given to you. And, wherever two or three
are gathered in my name . . .
Ah yes, those promises
are true enough, Jesus seems to be saying. But only for
Israel, not for her.
But still she doesn’t
give up. She is like a child. For children are persistent. They keep asking
until they get what they want. Please? No. Please? No. Please? No. Please? No.
Please? And what parent hasn’t heard why? why? why? why? why?
It’s when children begin to get older, and when we become adults, that we
change. We figure out ways to manipulate, to get around, to undermine, to
bargain, to rationalize, to argue. And we do that with
God sometimes, don’t we? But this woman’s like a child. She doesn’t do any of
that. She just cries out again: Lord, save! My daughter is sinking!
And isn’t that what Jesus
tells us to do? To be like little children . . .
But then, Jesus says, It is not right to
take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.
That is an offensive remark for many. How could Jesus say such a thing! But
again, the Canaanite woman is not offended. In fact, she agrees. She
could have objected, stomped her foot in outrage, and said: Hey! Canaanite
lives matter! But she doesn’t. Instead she says yes. And, if
I may say, happily so! For yes, she’ll be a dog - she’ll be a dog if
she can be HIS dog. She did not belong to Israel. Yes, True. Indeed. You are
right, she says. I’ll be a dog. Your dog. So I
can have the crumbs. Because a crumb from Jesus is worth more
than all the feasting of the world. Whatever she gets will be completely
undeserved. All grace. And she’ll gladly take that.
For that’s the way of it
with faith.
Faith doesn’t make
demands of God. When we do, that’s not faith talking, but something else in us
. . .
Faith doesn’t think it
has rights. When we think we do, that God owes us something, that’s not faith
talking . . .
Faith doesn’t get
indignant or offended with God, as if He were somehow belittling us. If we
think He is, that we’re not getting the recognition or the rewards we deserve,
that’s not faith talking . . .
That is the way and the
language and the thinking of the world. We have rights. We have dignity. We
deserve certain things and certain treatment. And we hear that so much, we’re
so bombarded with that message . . . and maybe that’s true when it comes to the
world. But not with God. To think that way with
God is to think that life is something that is ours, that we have, in and of
ourselves, and then we add can God to it . . . if
we want; if and when we think He can somehow add to it and
make it better. But if He gets in the way, or doesn’t do according to what we
think . . . well, then God’s in the wrong.
But that’s topsy-turvy
thinking. There isn’t your life and then God. There isn’t your life and then
you can invite God into it . . . or not. There isn’t a life that belongs to you
apart from God. There’s God and then your life. He’s the reality.
He’s the source. He’s the sustainer. For those who realize it and acknowledge
it, and for those who do not. All that you are, all that you have, all
that you can hope for, is from Him.
So it takes a Canaanite
woman, this very unlikely place of great faith, to be our teacher. To teach us of faith and the language of faith. That faith
isn’t proud, but humble. That faith doesn’t make demands, that faith doesn’t
insist on its rights, that faith doesn’t accuse God - faith simply says: yes,
Lord.
Yes, Lord, I am a dog.
Yes, Lord, I am a sinner. Yes, Lord, I deserve nothing.
But faith doesn’t stop
there. Not a child-like faith. Faith keeps going. Not demanding on the basis of
who we are, but asking and insisting on the basis of who God is, and
what He has told us in His Word.
That yes, Lord, I
am a dog, a sinner, and deserve nothing. But yes, Lord, You came for
people like me. You came to have mercy. You came to save. Because of who You are. Because You
are love. Because You give. Because You
desire all to live in You. So I’m askin’! Just
for the crumbs, which I don’t even deserve. But a crumb from you is worth more
than everything in the world, all the recognition of the world, all the riches
in the world. Just a crumb of mercy . . . Lord, save!
And then it is Jesus’ turn
to say yes. And to give much more than crumbs. Because Jesus gives Himself. All of
Himself, for you. For when you come to the altar to receive His Body and
Blood, what is this but a crumb compared to the food we feast on each and every
day? And yet here is food that is worth more than all that. Far
more. For receiving a crumb, you receive all of Jesus, the Bread of
Life. Here you receive His life, His death, His cross, His forgiveness, His
resurrection, His salvation, His kingdom, His Sonship.
All that He is and has done for you is here for you . . . in these crumbs that
are far more than crumbs.
Now, are you worthy to
receive such a gift? No. And yes. No, if you base your worth in
you - who you are and what you have done. But yes if you come as an
undeserving sinner-dog who says Lord, have mercy. Lord, save! For then
great is your faith, that says yes to our Lord and His
Word and His promises.
Sometimes, though, our
problem isn’t what God gives or how God gives but when God
gives. Last week, with Peter, Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed
Peter after the first peep out of his mouth. But today, Jesus doesn’t. He
waits. He treats Peter and this woman differently. Why? Jesus’
chauvinism rearing its ugly head, again? No. But
because they are different. Jesus doesn’t deal with everyone the
same. We sometimes think He should, that what He does for one He should do for
all; that He should be equal and fair. But once again, that’s not faith
talking . . .
Because
love doesn’t treat everyone the same. Love regards each person
and their needs uniquely. Parents love all their children the same but do not
treat them the same. Because they’re different. They
have different needs, respond in different ways. And parents know that.
Children think that’s not fair, just as we sometimes think God’s not being
fair. But parents know - God knows - that’s love.
And faith responds: yes,
Lord. Faith that is confident in Jesus and His love. His
love shown by His coming for us. His love shown by His
dying for us.
And then such faith,
receiving from Jesus, enlivened by Jesus, fed by Jesus, confident in Jesus,
does the same for others. What we have passively received we actively give. Love, mercy, forgiveness. To the dogs and those who treat us
as dogs. To the sinners and those who sin against us. To the
undeserving - not just those who can repay us. For
that is the way of it with Jesus, who lives in you and you in Him.
O woman, great is your
faith! Be it done for you as you desire.
This woman wasn’t great,
she was nothing. We know nothing about her before this; we know nothing about
her after this. But we know this: her Jesus is great. And that’s what
makes faith great - not it’s strength, but the
strength of the one it’s in. When you are weak, He is strong. And
when He is strong, your faith is great. And it will be done for you as
you desire. Not what your old, sinful, worldly, greedy, selfish heart desires,
but what your new, clean, baptized heart desires: Jesus. And He will be
given to you: His life. And hope. And confidence. Which is a right-side-up life, in a topsy-turvy world.
In the Name of the Father, and of the (+)
Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Now the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.