“Don’t tell me no.
I have seen you
feed thousands,
seen miracles spill
from your hands
like water, like wine,seen you with circles
and circles of crowds
pressed around you
and not one soul
turned away.
Don’t start with me.
I am saying
you can close the door
but I’ll keep knocking.
You can go silent
but I’ll keep shouting.
You can tighten the circle
but I’ll trace a bigger one
around you,
around the life of my child
who will tell you
no one surpasses a mother
for stubbornness.
I am saying
I know what you
can do with crumbs
and I’m claiming mine,
every morsel and scrap
you have up your sleeve.
Unclench your hand,
your heart.
Let the scraps fall
like manna,
like mercy
for the life
of my child,
the life of
the world.
Don’t you tell me no."((Jan Richardson--A Stubborn Blessing)
This week, Susan Bro, the mother of Heather Heyer (the woman killed in the Nazi march in Charlottesville) said this: make my daughter’s death worthwhile—confront injustice, turn anger into righteous action.” Susan Bro is another in a long line of mothers and mother-figures who when confronted with danger directed at their children, take amazing risks, speak incredible truths and do whatever it takes to make things right. Susan Bro won’t let the death of her daughter be in vain, nor will the Canaanite woman from today’s gospel let some religious and political rules keep her from the feet of the man who can heal her daughter.
It’s hard to know what Jesus was thinking that day—perhaps he used her intrusion into his ministry as a teaching moment for his followers or, more likely, he was in a stubborn, cranky mood. Either way, the story demonstrates that when it comes to saving what needs saving, being nice and agreeable won’t always win the day, or save the life. Sometimes we need to dig in our heels and do some nudging, some bothering and some hollering.
The Canaanite woman, the mother of a daughter in desperate need of healing, should not be approaching Jesus and the disciples. She’s an unaccompanied woman and a Canaanite. Canaanites and Jews despised each other then and they still do today…because Canannites are Arab.
Remember, Jesus has been trying to get some R and R for awhile now. First he went up to the mountain to pray, only to be confronted with thousands of hungry followers, then he took off across the lake only to be harassed by a Peter who was so quick to doubt and to debate (and sink). So one can imagine that, travelling into foreign territory, he’s hoping for a little peace--after all no non-Jew would dare pay him any heed, for he wasn’t “their messiah.” Of course, that doesn’t work and suddenly this woman appears, demanding to be heard and seen. What follows is one of the most uncomfortable and horrifying exchanges in the Gospels when Jesus harshly dismisses her, saying:
“It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Has Jesus lost his mind? Is this the same man who teaches that we must love everyone, no exceptions?
Yes it is.
Jesus is saying, in language not unusual for his culture, that he was the messiah for the Jews and that his work was for those lost sheep, not any other.
But, my friends, Jesus is wrong.
This desperate and determined mother helps Jesus see the full scope of his mission, she teaches the Teacher, leaving the ego of the human Jesus tattered and the surety of the divine Jesus, shaken.
The mother teaches and the Messiah, learns.
Even after being horribly insulted by Jesus, this classic outcast, this mother who will not be denied, forges ahead. She accepts where Jesus is at—that he has come for the Jewish people and no one else—and challenges him with the fact that dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table and that all she wants—this unclean, unaccompanied, socially unacceptable person—are the crumbs of his grace. She has such faith in who Jesus is, and such desperation to help her child, that she’s willing to accept the left-overs, the trash, if it will save her daughter.
Rage must have churned within her. Fury, fear and terror all pulsating through her veins…but she didn’t give in, she didn’t lash out, she didn’t retreat, she didn’t give up. Her daughter was extremely ill and, regardless of the risk, she had to do something!
Just like Susan Bro some 2K years later, the Canaanite woman wouldn’t be denied…not because she was full of hubris, but because she was full of love. Love for her daughter. Mothers, and mother figures across the ages, have tempered their fury, bridled their rage, and swallowed their pride to protect, support, and care for their family. They’ve set aside their own desires, their own dignity, in order to provide for those whom they love without reason, those whom they love beyond all measure, those for whom they will lay down their very life…not because they’re super-human or heroes, but because they are, plain and simple: mothers.
The lesson of The Triumphant Canaanite Women and the humbled Jesus is this: No matter how much we say no, no matter how far we go to reject, destroy and ignore it, God’s love will not be denied, because God’s love, like the love of every devoted parent we know, knows no limit, respects no prejudice, and will never ever stop. The love God has for us is fierce. It is our job to let this love wash over us as we stand up against , like Heather Heyer’s mother and like the Canaanite mother, all prejudice, all hate, all intolerance and all darkness. And for that we say, Amen.
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