The Humanity of Jesus

Today, I was perturbed by the sermon preached by my pastor.

The Presbyterian lectionary takes us today to Matthew 15: 21-28, the story of the Canaanite woman's faith.  Jesus, having condemned his opponents as hypocrites, withdrew to Tyre and Sidon.  It could be for rest, or it could be for safety - one cannot offend the Pharisees without getting into trouble!  But regardless, Jesus withdrew, but news spread somehow about his withdrawing to Tyre and Sidon, and a Canaanite woman approached.  "Have mercy on me, Lord son of David! My daughter... she's been possessed by evil spirits!"  Jesus' response: "I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel."  (read: no.)  The Canaanite woman would not leave.  She went closer and knelt before him... "Please Lord... help me."  And Jesus' response: "It is not right to toss the children's bread to the dogs."

Jesus' responses, by the way, were cold, hard rejections.  Even Pope Benedict XVI, in his Angelus message today (he reference the same passage, interestingly) noted that Jesus' responses seemed hopeless to the woman, and the Pope cited St. Augustine to buttress his view.  My pastor was correct too.  The Canaanite woman, however, responded, "That's true, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table."  Here, my pastor argues that Jesus, confronted with the magnanimous faith of the Canaanite woman, realized his error in denying the woman his request, and then acquiesces. 

Of course, as someone schooled in the evangelical tradition, this assessment didn't rub off on me the right way.  But as I sat there pondering, I remembered a story I read from the late Rev. Peter J. Gomes' The Good Book.  Gomes, who pastored a vibrant congregation at Harvard University's Memorial Church, recounts two situations in Israel's Knesset (parliament), both theological issues.  In 1995, apparently, then Foreign Minister Shimon Peres admitted that he did not agree with King David's actions concerning his adultery with Bathsheba and his guile in assassinating Uriah to obtain Bathsheba.  The conservative rabbis who served as Knesset members immediately yelled back in sheer anger - one Knesset rabbi apparently had to be sent to the Knesset medical center to be treated for apoplexy because he was so enraged.  The reason: the holy name of King David was besmirched by Peres' trouble with David's sins. 
 Incidentally, at another convention of the Knesset, a female Knesset member read 2 Samuel 1:26, which read "I grieve for you, my brother Jonathan! You were so dear to me! Your love was more amazing to me than the love of women!"  The passage is quite controversial particularly since it has, to some interpreters, a homosexual connotation.  Almost as if Stephen's trial was being reenacted, the Knesset rabbis immediately reacted with sheer and vociferous anger.  One prominent rabban even responded publicly, "Whoever denigrates the holy name of the sweet psalmist of Israel does nothing but err."

Of course, we Christians are not too troubled with David's sin, but we need to keep in mind that the Jewish people do not hold to Jesus as a spiritually authoritative figure.  David represented the epitome of Israel's days of glory, just as the Republicans see Reagan's presidency as America's glory days (note that few Republicans and Democrats are quick to criticize Reagan's administration).  Furthermore, both Christians and Jews admit the closeness David's relationship was with God.  It's easy, then, for us to say that "Well, that's David, but this is Jesus.  Jesus is never wrong."  I wonder, however, about the implications of our claiming that Jesus is fully human (as well as fully God).  Does Jesus' full humanity include missteps?  When the teenage Jesus left his parents out on the line to dry by staying at the temple, was Jesus not being inconsiderate of his parents?  So, before we stand up to my pastor and start being like Knesset rabbis, we need to ponder a bit and think through.

Having said that, I'm not so sure I agree with my pastor's assessment.  For one, Jesus' response was not unusual in God's world.  In Exodus, we have times where God wanted to do things one way, but acquiesced to Moses' suggestion.  God, I would say, has a purpose for asking things that way.  In this case, I think the key word is "master's" (note above).  The Canaanite woman brushed away the fact that Jesus was talking about Israel, God's chosen people.  She zoned in on the fact that Jesus was God - the master.  Yes, the Father has every right to make sure that bread goes to his children, but none of that applies to her!  In essence, she was saying, "I'm not asking that you accept me as an Israelite.  I'm just asking for a smidget of your grace which I know I don't deserve."  And why would she be bold to ask that?  Because she knows who this Jesus is and so, having faith in this Jesus of Nazareth, she was emboldened to ask for something she does not deserve.  So I don't think that Jesus necessarily acknowledged his error, but was acknowledging that the woman was correct in that Jesus, who may have been sent to Israel, is also gracious.

But my pastor's sermon was not altogether disagreeable.  She is right in the application, for if Christ is our example, should we not be gracious to others, just as he was gracious to the Canaanite woman?  More particularly, aren't we more like Jesus' disciples who were telling God to just disregard the rabble-rousers in the world?  Hey Jesus, that Canaanite woman's so annoying... why don't you tell her to buzz off?  Hey God, Henry's liberal pastor said you're wrong - smite her!  Henry did not completely disagree with her - smite him! But how interesting that one of the Pope's application is precisely that - that this faith in Jesus translates into love for our neighbors!  And where, pray tell, is the love in asking God to smite others?  A Chinese proverb says that when one points fingers, three point back at the pointer.  Can it be that when we condemn others, we really self-incriminate ourselves in the process?

As the day passed, I became more and more appreciative of the sermon.  I may not agree completely with it, but the fact that it perturbed me allowed me to think more about the passage, and to qualify what, where, and why I agree (or disagree).  Oftentimes, we sequester ourselves into ideological camps: conservative, liberal, etc., and demonize the ideological others.  I've learned over the years that very rarely are liberals 100% wrong, and very rarely are conservatives 100% right.  What we need is less oppositional politics in the church and more grace.  We need the grace and charity to listen to each other, to read books such as Marcella Althau-Reid's The Queer God.  Indeed, as Stanley Hauerwas has said, we need these ideological others in the church.  We even need heretics too!  The Church should be thankful of her heretics, he claims, because it is because of them that we are able to qualify and more deeply understand why we believe what we believe.  My pastor is, of course, not a heretic.  She may be more progressive than some of you may like, but in her perturbing sermon, she had me think closely about the passage.  For that, I resolutely defend her preaching. 

Funny... I met with a friend later that day and talked about church affairs.  That conversation was delightfully perturbing in a different way.  But that's another post.