The passage of time is a tricky thing. We read a story in a book, and we naturally focus on the events described in the moment. The victories or the losses seem to happen in our minds in brief periods of time for the hero or heroine of the story. But the reality of life is that to chronicle a story, is to condense large periods of time into short revelations, to keep interest alive. Nobody wants to read a day-by-day account of the hero’s life from one interesting point until the next one. When the plain-ness or dull-ness of life abounds, writers just abridge these time periods for good reason – if they didn’t they would lose their audience. So then another interesting phenomenon occurs, we assume the time that passes is time where everything in the life of the hero is “normal”, uninteresting, and not difficult. It is not just that our hero moves from one event to another, it is that the time between events is not something that might be “hard”. Instead it is uneventful, therefore just another “day in the life”. Because “our” days are not usually murder from one day to the next, we reason the lives of our heroes in the stories must likely be the same. But where history is concerned, they weren’t.
Matthew writes in his gospel to the Hebrews of an incident of faith involving a Canaanite woman. His audience would immediately associate Canaanite with Gentile of the first order. Canaanite’s were traditionally pagan. They were traditionally responsible for much of the misery in Israel. They worshipped false gods, but did it using practices of wild sex, that would inevitably appeal to Israelites until they were sucked in and fully engaging in these rites and practices, almost without conscience or remorse. But these practices of wild orgy worship came at a horrific cost. There was no birth control, so the babies that resulted in the temple prostitutes who helped facilitate these rituals were divided into two camps. The male babies sacrificed on the altars of Molech, or half-a-dozen other pagan deities who demanded human blood for their favor. The female babies simply grew to become the next generation of temple prostitutes to expand the practices (often at unthinkably young ages). Israelites knew better than to allow this, let alone be responsible for it, but the lure of “free sex” was just too strong. What inevitably must follow was an invasion of Israel by a foreign power, enough to shake Israel out of its spiritual lethargy and back towards obedience again.
This was the history most often associated with Canaanites. So to even include the mention of a Canaanite woman in a gospel intended for a Hebrew audience was to invite criticism. But Matthew remembered the lessons Jesus taught His disciples and Matthew thought they bore repeating in print for future generations to remember – praise God that he did. Matthew picks up the story in verse 21 of his gospel saying … “Then Jesus went thence, and departed into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon.” And here is where our minds just easily blank out the intervening time. Last we knew, Jesus had just landed on the far side of the Sea of Galilee, and was passing through an entire region, healing all the sick with nothing more than the touch of the hem of His garment. And our minds begin to just think, everything was just fine. But we forget, the areas Jesus traveled were in rocky deserts. The paths were not smoothed out by concrete, or black tops, they were small paths worn to sand by the feet of previous travelers, horses, donkeys, or camels.
Even so, rocks abounded. If you were not careful where you stepped, you could easily twist an ankle, or worse, fall and break a bone of any kind. Having an accident did not afford you the responses of 911 first responders, you just got to scream in pain, until you made it to help with the aid of friends, or perhaps help came your way randomly traveling to a location on the same path you trode. But let’s assume no accidents befell you, the other real danger was not the wildlife (though the random mountain lion, or desert lion, or wolf, or snake or spider were still present) – no the other real danger was human, that is, human criminals. Thieves staked out places in the steep mountain paths where it would be easy to rob travelers who would fear for their lives, more than their possessions. Again, no local police to end it. So the only mercy shown would come from the heart of the theif, if there was any to be offered.
The heat was unbearable by day. No easy access to water. And if you happened to be unlucky enough to encounter Romans, your fate was anything but secure. You could be enslaved, just because the Roman commander felt like it. Very often the roads of Israel were “decorated” with a sea of Roman crosses stretched out for miles. The people of Israel that resisted in any way, were hung on these crosses, left to die over many days of agony, until strength finally failed and they suffocated to death. Their families were allowed, in fact, encouraged to come to see them die slowly. From time-to-time the Romans would allow a family member to provide water, or food, to a victim on the cross, in order to stretch out and prolong the agony of their inevitable death. Israel was not the happy place our minds might conjure up between the events in the life of Jesus. It was a place of absolute misery. It was a place where the evil of men abounded almost without restraint. And it was a barren, dry, rocky, landscape with steep cliffs, winding mountain paths, and dangers around every curve.
And in all of this, braving all of this, was Jesus traveling by foot from one place to the next. Carrying no food, and giving away any money donated to the poor wherever they encountered them. Jesus travels all the way to the north of Israel into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, no easy journey. Matthew continues the story in verse 22 saying … “And, behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.” As hard as it would be for a group of 13 men (plus potential other entourage) to travel these distances, in this weather, with limited resources; for a woman alone it was a near suicide risk. A woman would face the indignity of rape by Romans, or criminals, or desperate men – in addition to all the other dangers outlined already. But this woman does it, no easy trip. And the motivation behind seeking out Jesus was that her daughter was possessed with a demon.
Oh yes, did we forget to mention that, demons seemed in out of proportion density throughout the land of Israel and its neighbors. Once the demon took possession of you, it seemed as if no one could do anything about it. Imagine the movie “the Exorcist” happening in your home, with your child, or sibling. And imagine that not being a rare occurrence but a relatively common one. Now for an Israelite this was particularly humiliating, what, with the whole we serve the right God thing. But for a Canaanite pagan, the attitude of Israel was … “they earned it”. After all Canaanites historically worshipped false pagan gods, so possession seems highly likely – they had no defense. Hookers were thought to carry demons, Mary Magdalene had them removed multiple times as I recall. And Canaanite women were not known for their fidelity (keep in mind the rituals of sex that permeated their religions). None the less, the woman finds Jesus and looks to Him for healing.
Then things go from bad to worse. Matthew continues in verse 23 saying … “But he answered her not a word. And his disciples came and besought him, saying, Send her away; for she crieth after us.” After all the horror in this poor mother’s life, after all the danger she braved to get here, Jesus is completely silent in response to her. She does not stop asking. She probably has broken down to tears at this point. Her only hope left on planet earth for her daughter can hear her, but is saying nothing. She cannot just reach out and touch the hem of His garment, because she is not the one who needs the healing. Her daughter does. Through her tears, she continues to call out. But Jesus is testing … [wait for it] … His people.
Often, we read this encounter as Jesus testing the faith of this woman, but with everything she has done and said, her faith is already well known to anyone paying attention. This test of Jesus was not for her. It was for us. What is breaking the heart of Jesus though none can see it, is the lack of love from the men and women who call themselves His disciples for this pagan … both then and now. We treat those whose sins are self-evident and well documented, as somehow less, as people we must avoid, lest we find ourselves taking part in their sins as well. We shame them. We want them to just leave, to just go somewhere else, away from us, and our churches. It is OK to find Jesus, but find Him somewhere away from our sight. The disciples grow tired of her pleas, and actually ask Jesus to send her away from their presence. Tell her to go. Get this crying woman out of here. Pagans have no place at the feet of Jesus. Sinners who deserve it, should reap what they sow, somewhere else. And arrogance raises its ugly head.
Jesus steals His heart with supernatural strength in order to continue the test. Matthew continues the story with the answer of Jesus again in verse 24 saying … “But he answered and said, I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel. [verse 25] Then came she and worshipped him, saying, Lord, help me.” Jesus reminds her that the mission of the Messiah is to begin with house of Israel. This is why He does not appear in Egypt or Norway or China. The legacy of Abraham dating back to a promise to Adam, has found its fulfillment here in Israel. This is where the prophets foretold. But Israel has dropped the ball. Israel was supposed to be a nation of priests, not literally, but figuratively. Each Israelite was supposed to have a testimony about God, they would have passion to share with any who would listen. Each Israelite was supposed to long to ease the pain of people like this Canaanite, from the burden of demons and false gods. Each Israelite was supposed to point people like this women to the Truth who alone could set her free.
The disciples most of all should know this (them and us). They, more than any other, should have burned with a desire to help this woman. They should have interceded on her behalf, made a case for her, taken her into their hearts. It does not matter that she is a public sinner, like a prostitute, or a homosexual, or a criminal. At the side of Jesus, at His feet, is where all that past life does not matter. The sole function of the gospel is to get people like this to arrive here with Jesus, and instead the disciples are still ready to send her away. No one intercedes. No one makes her case, or defends her, or welcomes her to their bosom. And it is as if we were there. It is as if we collectively can step right into their shoes, with how we treat those who do not see things “our way”. We go so far as to treat other Christians this way, because they do not carry the denominational banner we do. The disciples are silent during this encounter. The woman only deepens her resolve and falls at the feet of Jesus weeping all the louder and crying out “Lord, help me”.
The heart of Jesus is near exploding. This test is harder on Him than on her, or His disciples, or us. His heart breaks at how callous we are to His child so desperate in need. He will continue this test only once more as Matthew records picking up in verse 26 saying … “ But he answered and said, It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs.” Jesus has reached in to the hearts of His disciples. He has found just the right word summarizing how they think of her. They are all calling her a dog, a bitch, a pig, some abomination not worth the time or words of Jesus. He tests this woman knowing what her outcome will be, but the real test is for His disciples to see within themselves, how hard they remain towards His precious daughter of another heritage, another faith, another history. Here is the final time He will allow the pain of this woman to persist, in order that His church can finally pick up the banner of love it is supposed to have, and ease the suffering of this woman. But alas, no disciple passes the test.
The woman gives an answer that should strangle our hearts until they break. Matthew records in verse 27 saying … “And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table. [verse 28] Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour.” The woman begins her answer, but not by disagreeing with the assessment of Jesus, but by embracing it. Jesus has just called her a dog, and she agrees saying “truth, Lord”. I am a dog, a pig, an abomination unworthy of your love, or time, or attention. But I will settle for the crumbs that fall from your table, for any scraps you are willing to part with. The woman loves Jesus so much, no insult will deter her, no truth will unsettle her. And Jesus can take it no longer, He grabs His daughter, holding her close to Him, softly crying in her ears, as He tells her how great her faith is, and that her daughter is whole from this very moment.
Matthew may not have understood it then. But when he writes his gospel, he understands it very well. The lions on the mountainsides, and in the Roman coliseums are not the only dangerous ones in our lives. The lions of our arrogance and pride are swifter to kill us than any other on earth. Ancient Rome is gone. Our highways are well paved, and we travel them in big steal vehicles. But the lions of our arrogance and pride still remain. How the disciples reacted to one so clearly in need of love, and of help, was based on the fundamental idea that they were better than her. This idea sprang from a multitude of reasons. But it was so firm in them, they were ready to send away a crying mother, because her tears offended them. They made no intercession for her. They made no defense for her. They cast her away in their minds and hearts so quickly it nearly broke the heart of Jesus who tested them.
It was not just in Gethsemane where Jesus tested His people three times, this was the first round of tests. Being tested is never fun, never easy. This woman endured anything to secure Jesus. It looked like she was not going to see her daughter healed by how Jesus responded multiple times. And the disciples, that is, the church of Jesus, made no effort to help her despite her need. This only happens because His church has yet to learn how to love. That lesson is one of transformation. To take whatever heart you have in you now, and transform it, to a heart nearly explodes in sympathy with this woman – to do anything you can do, give anything you have – to see her pain abated. But instead we refuse to submit who we are, falling victim not to the lions of the Roman circus, but to the more dangerous lions of our arrogance and pride, all-consuming beasts who have no mercy for others, or for us. Let us through submission, find the passion for others, for anyone not like us, to love them, not like dogs and pigs, but like treasured daughters as Jesus would and did.