Saturday, May 17, 2014

Pentecost 9 Proper 15A ~ the Syro-phoenician Woman




foreigners who join themselves to the LORD,
…I will bring to my holy mountain,
…for my house shall be called a house of prayer
for all peoples.

“All peoples”. So what about the Syrophoenician woman? Why did He call her a “dog”. What is the meaning of this harshness, so uncharacteristic of our Lord – at least when speaking to the poor? As usual, the answer may lie in the context – the part of the Gospel bracketed for optional use! The incident of the Syrophoenician woman comes right after the latest cryptic saying in this summer’s lectionary, followed as usual by a helpful explanation for the disciples. [This time, perhaps, more helpful than usual!].
This happened in the country we call Lebanon, the part of the region of ancient Syria that became a separate country after WW I. That’s why she is called “Syro-phoenician”. And Phoenicia was the coastline of this country, named for the REALLY ancient, sea-going civilization, from before the time of Moses, that may even have traded with England. So, this woman makes a good representative for all the “nations”. And let us remember that when our version uses these words: “nations” and “peoples”,  IT IS TRANSLATING THE Hebrew goyim – a none-too-flattering reference to those who were outside the Covenant with Israel.
Now, the covenant had to do with keeping the Law given to Moses. By Jesus’ time, this included elaborations regarding ritual purity. Contact with what was considered “unclean” –  like dogs or goyim – was to be avoided, as were a number of foods. I think that’s what this passage is really about. In the optional part, we hear the teaching:
“ it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles."  And Jesus (or, probably, the Evangelist) explains that “spiritual uncleanness is not a matter of externals, but of what is going on in your own heart”.
So the incident in the Lebanon acts out the teaching. For the disciples’ benefit, Jesus plays the part of those who took offense at His teaching on spiritual defilement, comparing the woman to an unclean dog. I take this to be irony. Because in the next breath, Jesus repudiates His own pronouncement that His mission was only to “the lost sheep of Israel”, and extends His healing ministry to a non-Jew, who represents all who trust in the goodness of His Father, by whatever name they use. The Father has sent Jesus for everybody. Anyway, that is the proclamation of the Church.
We find it in all three readings today: the prophetic hymn about the inclusion of all the goyim in the Temple, the House of Prayer for ALL People; the psalm in which all the goyim praise the Lord; and the extremely important observation of St. Paul that those who, unlike himself and many other Jews, did not accept Jesus, were in no way cut off from the promises of God. Those promises are irrevocable. The love of God is never withdrawn. Human sin cannot conquer divine mercy. And the Father, who shows mercy to the goyim – like the Syrophoenician woman – does not withhold it from the descendants of Abraham. His Covenant with them remains in force. Only now there is a New Covenant that extends mercy to everyone else, too.
I would venture to say that the figure of speech the woman used, about crumbs falling from the Master’s table to feed the dogs, may be interpreted as a reference to Holy Communion: that which goes in through the mouth not to defile but to sanctify. The little Crumbs we eat from the Master’s Table include us in the meal he provides for His children. We even call this meal the Sign of the New Covenant:
This is My Blood of the New Covenant,
which is shed for you and for many
for the forgiveness of sins.

“For many”, in the original language, I am told, has the connotation of “for all”. “For you and for many” – for you Jews, and for everyone else, too. “For the forgiveness of sins.” And here we come to the second theme of today’s propers, found in the Collect.
…you have given your only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an example of godly life: Give us grace to receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life

Part II of this sermon takes us into the modern revision of thinking regarding the “fruits of His redeeming work”, a revision that involves the recovery of the teaching of the ancient Church. It seems that in the flowering of Medieval theology in Western Europe (though not in the Eastern part of the Church), the understanding of Christ’s work – what He came to earth to do – was one of two things: satisfaction for sin OR an example of godly life. Our collect – in good Anglican style – would include both views. This was still a lively debate when the first BCP came out in the 16th Century. And Anglicanism was and  is all about inclusion of as many warring factions as possible. And both views are very much with us to this day.
The “satisfaction” doctrine holds that everything is about “me and my sins”. I can’t pay for them myself, and God’s justice demands satisfaction and SOMWEBODY has to pay, so He pays the price Himself, by sending His Son to die. This is such standard teaching in the West, that we call Christ’s work “atonement”. It is easy to forget that the Church has never made a dogmatic pronouncement to that effect. Other views are possible, such as that Jesus’ work was mainly to show us how to live in a way pleasing to God. But in both Late Medieval theories, it’s all about us.
But there is a little problem: God’s mercy is invincible and eternal. Our sins cannot conquer it, and our sins were forgiven from all eternity – before we committed them, before the Incarnation and Death of Christ. The Blood of Christ was not required to wash them away. So what did He mean by saying that the Cup of His Blood of the New Covenant was for the “forgiveness of sins”? How about this: God’s sacrifice for sin was His vindication in OUR eyes.
Have you ever heard anyone say “I can’t believe in your God, because how could a good God make a world with such terrible evil and suffering?” That is what the Cross is for: not so much to pay some price that we cannot pay, as to wash away our sinful way of seeing things by showing us that God suffers the consequences of His own Creation. Like Adam, we blame God for our own sin: “The woman – whom YOU gave me – she gave me and I did eat”. It’s YOUR fault, for creating me in the first place! The Cross is God’s answer to that original sin.
To sacrifice means to make holy, and maybe the “Sacrifice for sin” is God’s way of making holy our sinful consciousness that blames Him for our own embrace of death. His Blood is, indeed, shed for us – and for all – could it be that it is shed so that we may forgive ourselves and one another, and stop blaming Him?
The ancient view of the work of Christ, recovered through study of the ancient theologians, is about a whole lot more than “me and my sin”: it is about the Transfiguration of the cosmos. The whole universe – everything that is – is perfected and bathed in glory by the Incarnation, death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. We are part of this Redemption – a crucial part, infact, literally – but it’s not ALL about us.
Just as the Messiah came NOT “only to the lost sheep of Israel”, but to all those unclean goyim the Syrophoenician woman represents, so the Redeeming work of Christ is not ONLY for us human beings, but for all Creation.





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