Readings:
Matthew 15:10-28
Isaiah 56:1, 6-8
Psalm 67
Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32
Devotional:
I love a good inside joke. It only takes a couple key words or phrases, and the whole family/friend group is laughing… whether at the memory, at how long the joke persists, at the circumstances, it doesn’t matter. It brings a sort of familiarity and comfort that immediately connects everyone back together again.
It’s the same ease and confidence of walking into a meeting where you already know everyone, trust has been established, and you know you’re on the same page. Or when you show up to practice with one of those teams where everyone has each other’s back, supporting wins and cheering each other on through losses. Or maybe it’s walking up to the circle of friends where everyone moves to widen it so that you can join. We feel empowered and connected by being on the inside, knowing what’s going on and what to expect.
But oh the opposite feeling. Everyone knows the inside joke except you. You have to present in front of people you don’t know, or worse, who don’t like you or actively try to undermine you. Your team is full of would-be superstars who can’t work together. You approach a group, only to find the circle tighten or shoulders turned toward you. It’s the first day of school, and you go to the wrong classroom or fumble over your words. Or maybe the once inside group all of a sudden has new rules, new people, and new jokes, and the familiar becomes foreign. Uncertainty, unfamiliarity, insecurity, and disconnection are isolating. Being outside leaves you displaced and scattered, cast aside, and striving.
This is the world of our Canaanite mom in Matthew. She’s got a child described as demon-possessed. Think about stereotypical parent groups and how quickly the lines form between included and outside. Every parent knows which home and playground will welcome their child openly and where they will be pushed outside. Let’s pretend that her child is merely a “free spirit” or “wild child” — even still the boundaries will be set for when and where they belong.
So when Jesus and the disciples show up, she takes action. We have to recognize that as a Canaanite, our mom doesn’t fit in the Jewish circles either. She’s a Gentile. And although the Canaanites have been neighbors to Israel, though their traditions would also name Noah as a common ancestor, their nation has been cut off from the house of Israel long before now. It doesn’t make sense for her to seek out Jesus, and it certainly doesn’t make sense for her to call him Lord or to cry out for His help.
But she does, annoyingly so. She follows the disciples shouting, “HELP!” for so long that the disciples beg Jesus to send her away. In the disciples' eyes, she’s not part of their ministry efforts. Kick her out. Cut her off. Let’s get on with it.
A pause for the irony. In the passage just before this, the Jewish leaders have questioned Jesus for why his disciples are breaking traditions and not washing their hands before eating bread. (You see, they are invested in keeping the familiar insider rules intact too.) And Jesus’s response reveals where they have broken traditions and God’s covenant. Then He qualifies that it’s not what you put in your mouth, it’s what comes out, because that comes from your heart.
The disciples seem nervous about this, because they tell Jesus he was rude to the Pharisees and offended them. (Perhaps the disciples are uncomfortable with being considered on the outside of Temple habits? Being inside is just as risky as being outside because you never know when you’ll find yourself on the wrong side of a vote.) But Jesus responds to leave them be. This is the blind leading the blind. The exercise of deciding who belongs in and out is not the way; this just leads to being trapped.
And yet here we are, with our mom in need, and the disciples are saying send her away.
Then Jesus objects. “But he answered and said, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’” Before we make the same mistake as the Pharisees and disciples and imagine that Jesus is defining the lines of in and out, notice that he is objecting to sending her away. He is refusing the disciples request to dismiss her.
Read it again. He says that He was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, while in a region and among a people that are not Israel, and He is refusing the request to cast her away. We read “house of Israel” and draw our imaginary lines again. But if we take Jesus at His word that He is sent, and He is there in Tyre and Sidon (in Canaan), then He is where He is supposed to be. He is sent to her, so of course He isn’t going to shoo her away.
After all, God has had a vision of the nations responding in joyful praise long before this exchange. Psalm 67 highlights that joyful praise will come out of the nations as He judges with rightness. All peoples will praise Him. His blessings are on us. It’s what comes out of the mouth that reveals the heart, and the heart of the nations will be singing for joy. Isaiah says it more directly, noting that God will be gathering the dispersed (or banished, scattered and thrown out) of Israel. The foreigners also get to be glad in His house, a house of prayer for all peoples! It would only make sense that Jesus is sent to all nations, including Israel and Canaan, that they might know the Father’s mercy and praise Him.
Back in our story, I think the Canaanite woman must misunderstand Jesus at that moment. She is probably culturally conditioned to imagining herself as separate from the house of Israel, probably used to being rejected among her community for all the reasons we already mentioned. Yet she kneels at His feet and begs for help again.
And Jesus says, “It isn’t good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” Again, we all hear an in and out statement. To her ears, the disciples’ ears, and even our own, we presume some sort of rule where she and her daughter, both Gentiles, can’t receive wholeness and healing from God, but others can. We immediately categorize one group as children and another different group as dogs.
But Jesus has been clear that defining the conduct of insiders and outsiders is not the point. So what exactly would be not good? Tossing out the opportunity to provide life to those who are utterly dependent! Passing up this moment to tend to the flock! It wouldn’t be good to leave her there without any hope or restoration. By no means would He leave us empty or without peace.
As Romans says, the gifts and calling (or invitation) of God are irrevocable. He doesn’t un-offer to take care of us because of the lines that we draw or due to the habits and behaviors that we impose. He isn’t restricted to our national borders or denominational traditions. His kindness and goodness are for all. His mercy was going to overtake our collected disobedience. His salvation is near, and His righteousness will be revealed.
However, our mom hears another dividing line again. She says but even the dogs get the crumbs from the master’s table. What a gesture of dependent faith! Where she sees no reason to imagine hope, assuming herself to be well “outside” of any deserving position, she believes anyway. In her cultural norms, she still sees and experiences ins and outs, but she’s willing to be even the dog in the house if it means a scrap of mercy or provision comes her way.
It’s here that we come around to Jesus’s earlier comments about what proceeds from the heart. What came out of her heart was faith, despite structures and norms. So while He needed no persuading to be generous and merciful, He remarks on her faith that overcomes her society and seeks Him anyway. “It shall be done as you wish. And the daughter was healed at once.” Oh that we would have similar faith to believe beyond the institutions that govern our day-to-day lives!
You see, inside and outside will always leave us insecure and grasping for identity. When the Canaanite mom imagined herself an outsider, she let her worth be only that of a dog and crumbs, desperate and needy. When the Pharisees and disciples feared the insider rules were changing, they became defensive and combative. “You’re not doing it right” or “make her leave” come out of their mouths, fearing their position and comfort to be in jeopardy.
But the upside-down Kingdom isn’t built on “in and out” or “us and them.” Instead, the irrevocable gifts and calling of God toward us show us a way to glad and joy-filled life beyond any culture wars, rules, sides, denominations, political parties, tastes, or preferences. Jesus steps into the places of our division and gives us a completely different reference point: the Father and His mercy. Come near, receive compassion and restoration, and find something entirely new being made.
What a kind and generous God who provides us with life, even when we erect imaginary barriers. His reality of our identity—children welcomed in His house, filled with gladness—surpasses our systems of in and out. Where the disciples saw irritation and where the mom saw insignificance, Jesus sees reality and continues to extend the invitation for life. Our greatest belonging and wholeness comes as intended recipients of His mercy, not from being an approving insider or even a pleading outsider.
As we find ourselves placed inside and outside of groups, looking at the other and the foreign, Jesus is inviting us to see an altogether separate path. More than any inside joke or echo chamber of familiar and comfortable, let’s take His offer of life and gladness.
A Prayer for Each Moment
God of Shared Mercy,
You gather us from the farthest reaches, inviting us without hesitation to be near, gifting us without reservation to be whole. You lift us from kneeling among the crumbs to wide smiling and singing at Your table. May we the nations, the whole of creation, praise You.
Amen.
A Prayer for Each Other
Our Father,
What must it be like to scatter goodness and watch it grow? You see past our displacing divisions and exclusions, planting unifying faith in our hearts that we would be fully whole and fully healed. Grace us with awareness of Your enduring gifts and invitation, that we would see ways to extend hope in our homes, families, and nations.
Amen.
Blessing
May we accept His invitation to look beyond our debates and to move toward the joy of sharing in His mercy.
Photo by Ahmet Yüksek on Unsplash
Matthew 15:10-28
Isaiah 56:1, 6-8
Psalm 67
Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32
Devotional:
I love a good inside joke. It only takes a couple key words or phrases, and the whole family/friend group is laughing… whether at the memory, at how long the joke persists, at the circumstances, it doesn’t matter. It brings a sort of familiarity and comfort that immediately connects everyone back together again.
It’s the same ease and confidence of walking into a meeting where you already know everyone, trust has been established, and you know you’re on the same page. Or when you show up to practice with one of those teams where everyone has each other’s back, supporting wins and cheering each other on through losses. Or maybe it’s walking up to the circle of friends where everyone moves to widen it so that you can join. We feel empowered and connected by being on the inside, knowing what’s going on and what to expect.
But oh the opposite feeling. Everyone knows the inside joke except you. You have to present in front of people you don’t know, or worse, who don’t like you or actively try to undermine you. Your team is full of would-be superstars who can’t work together. You approach a group, only to find the circle tighten or shoulders turned toward you. It’s the first day of school, and you go to the wrong classroom or fumble over your words. Or maybe the once inside group all of a sudden has new rules, new people, and new jokes, and the familiar becomes foreign. Uncertainty, unfamiliarity, insecurity, and disconnection are isolating. Being outside leaves you displaced and scattered, cast aside, and striving.
This is the world of our Canaanite mom in Matthew. She’s got a child described as demon-possessed. Think about stereotypical parent groups and how quickly the lines form between included and outside. Every parent knows which home and playground will welcome their child openly and where they will be pushed outside. Let’s pretend that her child is merely a “free spirit” or “wild child” — even still the boundaries will be set for when and where they belong.
So when Jesus and the disciples show up, she takes action. We have to recognize that as a Canaanite, our mom doesn’t fit in the Jewish circles either. She’s a Gentile. And although the Canaanites have been neighbors to Israel, though their traditions would also name Noah as a common ancestor, their nation has been cut off from the house of Israel long before now. It doesn’t make sense for her to seek out Jesus, and it certainly doesn’t make sense for her to call him Lord or to cry out for His help.
But she does, annoyingly so. She follows the disciples shouting, “HELP!” for so long that the disciples beg Jesus to send her away. In the disciples' eyes, she’s not part of their ministry efforts. Kick her out. Cut her off. Let’s get on with it.
A pause for the irony. In the passage just before this, the Jewish leaders have questioned Jesus for why his disciples are breaking traditions and not washing their hands before eating bread. (You see, they are invested in keeping the familiar insider rules intact too.) And Jesus’s response reveals where they have broken traditions and God’s covenant. Then He qualifies that it’s not what you put in your mouth, it’s what comes out, because that comes from your heart.
The disciples seem nervous about this, because they tell Jesus he was rude to the Pharisees and offended them. (Perhaps the disciples are uncomfortable with being considered on the outside of Temple habits? Being inside is just as risky as being outside because you never know when you’ll find yourself on the wrong side of a vote.) But Jesus responds to leave them be. This is the blind leading the blind. The exercise of deciding who belongs in and out is not the way; this just leads to being trapped.
And yet here we are, with our mom in need, and the disciples are saying send her away.
Then Jesus objects. “But he answered and said, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’” Before we make the same mistake as the Pharisees and disciples and imagine that Jesus is defining the lines of in and out, notice that he is objecting to sending her away. He is refusing the disciples request to dismiss her.
Read it again. He says that He was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, while in a region and among a people that are not Israel, and He is refusing the request to cast her away. We read “house of Israel” and draw our imaginary lines again. But if we take Jesus at His word that He is sent, and He is there in Tyre and Sidon (in Canaan), then He is where He is supposed to be. He is sent to her, so of course He isn’t going to shoo her away.
After all, God has had a vision of the nations responding in joyful praise long before this exchange. Psalm 67 highlights that joyful praise will come out of the nations as He judges with rightness. All peoples will praise Him. His blessings are on us. It’s what comes out of the mouth that reveals the heart, and the heart of the nations will be singing for joy. Isaiah says it more directly, noting that God will be gathering the dispersed (or banished, scattered and thrown out) of Israel. The foreigners also get to be glad in His house, a house of prayer for all peoples! It would only make sense that Jesus is sent to all nations, including Israel and Canaan, that they might know the Father’s mercy and praise Him.
Back in our story, I think the Canaanite woman must misunderstand Jesus at that moment. She is probably culturally conditioned to imagining herself as separate from the house of Israel, probably used to being rejected among her community for all the reasons we already mentioned. Yet she kneels at His feet and begs for help again.
And Jesus says, “It isn’t good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” Again, we all hear an in and out statement. To her ears, the disciples’ ears, and even our own, we presume some sort of rule where she and her daughter, both Gentiles, can’t receive wholeness and healing from God, but others can. We immediately categorize one group as children and another different group as dogs.
But Jesus has been clear that defining the conduct of insiders and outsiders is not the point. So what exactly would be not good? Tossing out the opportunity to provide life to those who are utterly dependent! Passing up this moment to tend to the flock! It wouldn’t be good to leave her there without any hope or restoration. By no means would He leave us empty or without peace.
As Romans says, the gifts and calling (or invitation) of God are irrevocable. He doesn’t un-offer to take care of us because of the lines that we draw or due to the habits and behaviors that we impose. He isn’t restricted to our national borders or denominational traditions. His kindness and goodness are for all. His mercy was going to overtake our collected disobedience. His salvation is near, and His righteousness will be revealed.
However, our mom hears another dividing line again. She says but even the dogs get the crumbs from the master’s table. What a gesture of dependent faith! Where she sees no reason to imagine hope, assuming herself to be well “outside” of any deserving position, she believes anyway. In her cultural norms, she still sees and experiences ins and outs, but she’s willing to be even the dog in the house if it means a scrap of mercy or provision comes her way.
It’s here that we come around to Jesus’s earlier comments about what proceeds from the heart. What came out of her heart was faith, despite structures and norms. So while He needed no persuading to be generous and merciful, He remarks on her faith that overcomes her society and seeks Him anyway. “It shall be done as you wish. And the daughter was healed at once.” Oh that we would have similar faith to believe beyond the institutions that govern our day-to-day lives!
You see, inside and outside will always leave us insecure and grasping for identity. When the Canaanite mom imagined herself an outsider, she let her worth be only that of a dog and crumbs, desperate and needy. When the Pharisees and disciples feared the insider rules were changing, they became defensive and combative. “You’re not doing it right” or “make her leave” come out of their mouths, fearing their position and comfort to be in jeopardy.
But the upside-down Kingdom isn’t built on “in and out” or “us and them.” Instead, the irrevocable gifts and calling of God toward us show us a way to glad and joy-filled life beyond any culture wars, rules, sides, denominations, political parties, tastes, or preferences. Jesus steps into the places of our division and gives us a completely different reference point: the Father and His mercy. Come near, receive compassion and restoration, and find something entirely new being made.
What a kind and generous God who provides us with life, even when we erect imaginary barriers. His reality of our identity—children welcomed in His house, filled with gladness—surpasses our systems of in and out. Where the disciples saw irritation and where the mom saw insignificance, Jesus sees reality and continues to extend the invitation for life. Our greatest belonging and wholeness comes as intended recipients of His mercy, not from being an approving insider or even a pleading outsider.
As we find ourselves placed inside and outside of groups, looking at the other and the foreign, Jesus is inviting us to see an altogether separate path. More than any inside joke or echo chamber of familiar and comfortable, let’s take His offer of life and gladness.
A Prayer for Each Moment
God of Shared Mercy,
You gather us from the farthest reaches, inviting us without hesitation to be near, gifting us without reservation to be whole. You lift us from kneeling among the crumbs to wide smiling and singing at Your table. May we the nations, the whole of creation, praise You.
Amen.
A Prayer for Each Other
Our Father,
What must it be like to scatter goodness and watch it grow? You see past our displacing divisions and exclusions, planting unifying faith in our hearts that we would be fully whole and fully healed. Grace us with awareness of Your enduring gifts and invitation, that we would see ways to extend hope in our homes, families, and nations.
Amen.
Blessing
May we accept His invitation to look beyond our debates and to move toward the joy of sharing in His mercy.
Photo by Ahmet Yüksek on Unsplash
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