Reverend Ref +

SERMON
13 PENTECOST
PROPER 15 A

There comes a point in time when things need to change. Maybe it's a point in time when some intentional act is required to get people to change. Or maybe it's a bolt from out of the blue that opens your eyes to a new way of doing things. Or maybe it's a point when you are confronted with a situation and the rabid defense of the status quo that makes you realize it's time for a change.

When I was in seminary, there was alot of discussion around the issue of racism, both intentional institutional. If you want to know a little bit about institutional racism, pay attention to catalogs and notice how many people of color are represented; or pay attention to commercials and notice that ads for higher-end products are dominated by whites. There was a room at school where most of the social functions took place and that room was decorated with portraits of, as we referred to them, "a bunch of dead white guys." Now there's nothing wrong with dead white guys, I'm going to be one someday, but what message does that send when women and minorities are neglected? Especially when you consider that Seabury advertised itself as welcoming and inclusive. During one particularly tense meeting, a faculty member finally had had enough and removed one of the portraits, and then they all came down. They were eventually redistributed around the campus and the room got a makeover. It was that intentional act of removing the portrait that got people to think about change.

Or maybe the idea for change surprises you. Some of you may have heard this, so forgive me if you have, but here's another story from seminary. I was writing a sermon for a class and was focusing on the importance of the meal. How many times do we see Jesus sharing a meal with friends, strangers, sinners, outcasts and, yes, even Pharisees? So I wrote my sermon and it just kind of all spilled out onto the paper. When I re-read it, however, I was surprised to see that I had written about allowing all people to receive communion, regardless of their baptismal status, under the auspices of sharing a meal and discussing this thing called Christianity. Much like we share our Thanksgiving meals with the family and talk about our lives. And then, after having that meal and that conversation and working towards committment, baptizing them. In other words, I preached a sermon about moving the altar to the back of the church and the font to the front of the church. That thought totally surprised me and I had to really think about whether or not I wanted to preach that sermon. (By the way, I mentioned that to the bishop and he said, "Um . . . No." So for now, they stay where they are.)

Or maybe it's a point when you are confronted with the status quo and the rabid argument of "we've always done it that way," that makes you realize a change is in order. And that, my friends, is where I think Jesus was in today's gospel.

Understand that Jesus was a good Jew. He followed the Law, knew the scriptures and could debate with the best of the rabbis. He also dressed the part of a pious Jew. Let's back up for a minute. After last week's incident of Peter walking on water, Jesus and the disciples crossed to the other side of the lake where they were met by a large crowd begging to be healed. According to Matthew, they were happy to simply touch the fringe of his cloak. A fringe on the garment was part of the Law that God gave to Moses to give to the people. It was a reminder to follow God's commandments and not your own desires. So you might call Jesus a traditionalist.

Then in the first part of Chapter 15, Jesus runs afoul of the Pharisees when they ask him why his disciples don't follow the tradition of washing their hands before they eat. This requirement was originally intended solely for the priests, but over time it trickled down into the general populace and became a tradition within Judaism. But Jesus turned their objections upside down when he pointed out that the Pharisees were more concerned with ritual and tradition and rules and regulations than they were with caring for their fellow human -- especially a human they deemed unworthy.

So now we have a situation in which Jesus broke with tradition and argued against the status quo, and he made the argument that the static laws and long-standing traditions of people must be changed by the living word of God. Whether he meant to or not, whether this was in his plan all along, I don't know, but taking into account that Jesus was fully human, let's for a moment pretend that this was a situation that he didn't expect and it made him realize that things must change. For a person who values tradition and the comfort that that brings, this can be a scary time.

And this is where today's gospel picks up. A gentile woman comes to him and pleads for her daughter's healing. Jesus doesn't answer. I think he's trying to wrap his head around what just happened. Maybe he's thinking, "Now what?" Maybe he's wondering just how deep he's gotten into this mess. Maybe he's wondering just what he has to do to convince the people of Israel about his mission and the kingdom of God.

With all of that running around in his head, this woman shows up pestering him. His disciples try to get him to send her away, so he tells her, "I was sent to the lost sheep of Israel." In other words, "I have nothing for you, go away." In both his humanity and the culture of his day, he is treating her like the gentile woman she is.

But still she pesters him. In order to make his point, he compares her and her kind to dogs. The people of Israel are the children of God, and what God has sent for them is not to be given to dogs. This is one of the few times, if not the only time, when Jesus loses a debate. She recognizes her position in his eyes, and rather than confront him about being a misogynist bigot, she skillfully points out that even the dogs get the scraps that the children leave behind.

It is in that instant that everything that has just happened makes sense. Isaiah says that the foreigners will be joined to the Lord, and those same foreigners will be welcomed by the Lord. If the house of Israel won't accept Jesus, maybe the gentile dogs will; for it is in this gentile woman that Jesus finds not a person clinging to a rigid and static tradition, but the living word of God.

What static traditions are we clinging to? What laws are we blindly following simply because "we've always done it that way?" Who are the people in our lives that challenge us to look beyond the way we've always done it and into a new way of living out our faith?

In other words: Who are the dogs that we need to feed?