Sermons for the Month
A Heart Freed By Grace
DATE: August 14th, 2005
SERVICE: 13th Sunday After Pentecost
TEXT: Matthew 15: 21-28“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN
One evening last week I was outside at about 9:30; it was a nearly perfect summer night. The sky was a deep purple, since it was not quite dark, and the stars were appearing as if each one was a light being flicked on. The moon was an orange sliver in the northwest sky. Insects were singing, and the breeze brought with it a waft of pine scent.
As I contemplated the gift of God's creation all around me - a visible sign of God's grace - I also found myself contemplating why people are so intent on limiting that grace.
I guess it's because our own hearts limit us. We live in a world that is, in many ways, pure gift. But, along with its beauty comes imperfection that is most evident in the lives of people who inhabit this space. Jesus does not mince words in chapter 15 of Matthew as he pinpoints the source of that imperfection.
In verse 19, which immediately precedes what we read this morning, Jesus notes that, "out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness and slander." All that hurts comes from the heart, but there's more included here than negative behavior. The heart also closes itself off at times, refusing to allow in that which is uncomfortable or different or confusing.
Jesus knows this, and perhaps that's why - after focusing on the motives of the heart - he heads out for the district of Tyre and Sidon. The location is the Mediterranean shore, 25-50 miles north of Galilee. It's a long walk, and this is one of only three occasions in this Gospel when he goes beyond Jewish and Samaritan territory.
There he encounters a Canaanite woman, someone who is linked with the pagan inhabitants of Palestine who were displaced by the Jews. She is not, as far as those who are traveling with Jesus are concerned, a child of God. So, it's amazing that she not only calls out to Jesus for mercy - think of the scandal of a woman, a non-believer, speaking to a Jewish Rabbi in public - but that she refers to him as the Lord and the Son of David.
These are titles Jews might use for the Messiah, and only once before in this Gospel has Jesus heard them used, even by his disciples.
I wonder if perhaps those disciples were so offended by this unclean woman's presence that they did not really hear the astounding words that she cried out? Their hearts are closed, limiting them. She is, to them, a non-person, an annoyance. "Jesus", they say, "Get rid of her!"
Jesus, however, hears and sees her. I've always thought that the exchange that follows has the tone of a conspiracy, as if Jesus and the woman had understood one another on first glace and now Jesus is going to use her to make a point. But, perhaps I think that because I'm uncomfortable with taking the responses of Jesus at face value.
First, he ignores her. Then, he tells her that she's not included among those to whom he will show mercy. In other words, the grace of God belongs first to the people of Israel. In the face of such rejection this woman does not retreat. Instead, she moves in, she kneels before Jesus and begs for help. Then, he calls her a dog.
Ah, but she's quick. Perhaps having a child in agony sharpened her wits. I can imagine Jesus hiding a smile as, with humility she reminds him that dogs are still a part of the family. You see, she caught the fact the word that Jesus used did not refer to wild or stray dogs; it was a very specific word for a household pet. And she knew that while a dog might be subordinate to other family members (although it your house the dog or cat may be in charge) it still is in the family.
This woman understands that while the people of Israel are "the children" and Gentiles like herself are "the dogs", the food (the ministry of Jesus) is shared with everyone. And, she's right. In the ultimate gesture of inclusion Jesus calls her a person of great faith and heals her suffering daughter.
What do you suppose the disciples were doing at this point? I imagine them scratching their heads and thinking, "If he let her in - this woman, this pagan, this enemy of Israel - then who else might be included? Can anyone call out to Jesus for mercy and expect to receive it? Is anyone excluded?"
Most of us would say "no". But, our hearts limit us because while we say that those who call on the name of the Lord will be saved, a lot of time is spent attempting to limit God's grace based on people's behavior or on how faith is expressed. There are Christians who say, "God's mercy is enormous, but … if you do this or don't do that or say this or don't say that then it's not enormous enough to reach you."
I find myself in the midst of discussions about how far God's grace reaches all the time. I had an unexpected conversation of this sort during my vacation among Lutherans at Camp Luther last week. It was about the story that we usually title The Prodigal Son.
I'm sure you remember the parable. I've always thought of it as describing the unlimited grace of God. It's about the son who requests his inheritance before his father's death, an extremely selfish and disrespectful thing to do, and then goes off and squanders it on desolate living, as the scripture says. He ends up feeding pigs, is starving himself, and realizes that the slaves in his father's household have it better than he does. So, he heads for home.
The question that came up in our discussion at Camp Luther was whether or not the boy repented before he began his journey back. I was never, and am not now, convinced that the wayward son repented before he returned to his father's home; a close look at the story reveals that it's unclear if he did or did not do so. In fact, I've never felt that it matters because that's not the point of the story.
The focus is on the Father; even before the son can speak a word, the Father is running to him and welcoming him into his loving arms. He may have messed up, but he's still part of the family.
In fact, since the word prodigal can mean to be extremely generous as well as to be wasteful, I agree with those who would like to re-title the story the Prodigal Father because the father was so generous, so lavish in forgiving his lost child.
That's what God is like. But we human beings with our limiting hearts could not, on our own, be that generous. If we had encountered the woman who called out for mercy and she was not one of "us" then too bad for her, or if the son who squandered his inheritance came home, he would have to prove - for good reasons - that he's had a change of heart before we would fully welcome him.
That's what's makes God's lavish grace so amazing; it's far beyond what we can even begin to fathom. Over and over again in scripture Jesus gets what I imagine to be a twinkle in his eye as he astounds and offends people by saying that God's forgiving love extends to all people.
That's what happened in today's account and then, I guess to make his point stick, here is what happens next in Matthew 15. Great crowds bring the lame, the maimed, the blind and the mute to Jesus - the very people who would have been labeled as sinners because it was believed that their disability was punishment sent by God. Matthew says, "They put them at his feet, and he cured them, so that the crowd was amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the maimed whole, the lame walking and the blind seeing. Then they praised the God of Israel."
They just showed up, in fact other people brought them, and like the woman who called out to Jesus in today's Gospel lesson, the healing grace of Jesus changed their lives.
If only our hearts did not limit us, we too could receive that grace more and more and make sure that others know it's available to them as well.
So, here's my suggestion. The next time you become aware of God's visible grace - on a perfect summer evening, or in the smile of a friend, or a word of wisdom shared at just the right time - pause for a moment. Then pray that that grace would expand in your heart, so that the barriers there tumble, and what come out of the heart no longer hurts, but instead heals.
AMEN