A loved one of so many tears will not be forgotten-as long as we are at the feet of Jesus.

20^th Sunday Ordinary Time Year A     20 August 2017    

Deacon John William McMullen

Lord, help me. 

Gospel: Matthew 15.21-28

Jesus continues to go head to head with the religious authorities, the scribes and Pharisees, who are insistent upon telling Jesus how he has got to focus on who’s in and who’s out, who’s clean and who’s unclean in God’s eyes.  So many voices shouting him down when He calls for mercy and love.

So Jesus took his disciples on a retreat of sorts, a pilgrimage to a location where he could get away from all the arguing. (No Twitter or Facebook and no 24 hour news cycle).

He leaves Jerusalem and goes north, through Samaria and Galilee and continues north. He leaves the comfort of his home in Galilee, and crosses over the border into the territory of Tyre and Sidon! Greek Syro-Phoenicia.

Jesus is not safe. He’s on the move.

The disciples did not want Jesus going into the wrong neighborhoods or, God forbid, crossing any borders.

And that’s when she showed up - A Canaanite woman of that district came and called out, "Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon."

A Canaanite woman? The Canaanites were the bane of Israel’s existence!

But, wait. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ own genealogy mentions several Canaanite women. One was Ruth. She married the Hebrew man Boaz. She then became the mother of Jesse, and Jesse was the father of King David. So king David’s grandmother was a Canaanite woman!  Ah ha.

The woman says, “Have mercy on ME, but the concern is for her daughter who is tormented by a demon.” How many mothers have children who are tormented by various demons?

Where is Jesus in her desperation? He is silent. This does not mean he doesn’t hear her. He just doesn’t speak. He doesn’t act. Not yet at least.

* The disciples are annoyed by this woman’s prayer. “She’s bothering us! Send her away! Dismiss her! She’s too loud! Just give her what she wants to shut her up, then send her away! Was it because she was a Canaanite woman? Racism? Sexism?

Jesus knew what his disciples were saying and what they were thinking. “She’s too much for us. She’s a mess. Why can’t she be respectable and be a good woman and just be quiet and keep in her place. “Know your place, woman.” We can hear it.

She is disturbing their peace.

But she is calling on Jesus, not them.

Why is it so difficult for some people to allow women or minorities to say what they feel and think and be heard in their own their voice, without their words being distorted or ignored, and their personhood dismissed altogether?

Think of this woman’s courage. I wonder how many other people wanted to call out to Jesus, but didn’t have the courage.

We can hear the voices shouting her down. She’s from a different religious tradition.

Send her away!

Pretty soon all the gentiles will want to follow you and have a share in the kingdom of God.”

She’s a woman of color.

Where’s her husband anyway?

She’s got a demon possessed daughter.

Get her out of here!

Throw her out!

She didn’t send her daughter to Catholic school. She’s not in our women’s bible study.

Why, she isn’t in our parish directory, and she certainly doesn’t have collection envelopes.

Don’t let her kind in here, or else there will be others who will want to come in.

Imagine this woman’s desperation. She will do anything for her daughter.

She casts herself upon the mercy of the Lord only to hear nothing.

But Jesus’ silence and his disciples’ efforts to silence her did not deter her from calling upon the Lord.

Send her away.

Dismiss her.

But Jesus answers: “I was only sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 

The woman then throws herself down at Jesus’ feet: “Lord, Help Me!”

Jesus answers: “It is not right to throw the food (bread) of the children to the dogs.”

The woman boldly replies: “Please, Lord, even the dogs eat the scraps, the crumbs, that fall from the children’s table.”

And Jesus proclaims, “Woman, great is your faith!”

She is humble and admits, “Yes, I am a dog. I confess my guilt. I come from nothing.

But a crumb of your goodness can change my daughter’s life!”

* I wonder if Jesus said, "It is not right to take the food of the children and give it to the dogs" because that's what the disciples were saying, so Jesus allows his disciples to hear what prejudice sounds like.

The woman uses the dog metaphor to her advantage.  "...being so bold as to become Jesus' teacher, or at least the disciple’s teacher.”

  

Did Jesus humble himself and allow her to teach the disciples the nature of mercy?

Did Jesus think, “Well, I‘ve tried to teach them. I’ll allow her to teach the boys a thing or two”?

Regardless, the apostles received a lesson that they would remember for they take the gospel message to the ends of the earth.

“Woman, great is your faith!”

Jesus is challenging all of us who are tempted to cling to a fearful, stingy faith.

Meanwhile the Woman is at the feet of Jesus.

She has cast all of her cares upon the Lord. 

“Woman, great is your faith!”

She reminds us of the Roman soldier who came to Jesus and said, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my son shall be healed” (Matthew 8.5-13; John 4.46-54).

When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith. I say to you, many will come from the east and the west, and will recline with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob at the banquet in the kingdom of heaven…” And Jesus said to the centurion, “You may go; as you have believed, let it be done for you.” And at that very hour [his] servant was healed (Matt. 8.10-11, 13).

So Matthew’s gospel is showing us that Gentile dogs are invited into the kingdom.

Were all like dogs. Aren’t we. We depend totally upon our Master for our daily bread. Woof, woof!

The woman is willing to humble herself, like a dog who eats the scraps, the crumbs that fall from the Father’s table, but the crumbs of bread are bread. She desires to be nourished with the same bread that the children of Abraham eat at the banquet table of God, and these crumbs are a foreshadowing of the Eucharistic feast that we will soon celebrate at this altar.

“Woman, great is your faith!”

But let us reflect on the silence that Jesus gave the woman’s request.

How do we deal with the silence of God?

But what of our own experience of silence when we pray?

Many of us know that anguish.

Many of us know what it is to pray and pray and pray and hear nothing.

The silence of Jesus is difficult. Many of us feel like Jesus does not hear us or at least is not responding to us.

We pray: Lord, help me!

And some still hear the words from certain disciples: “Send her away!”

She stands weeping in the rain at the corner of Vann and Covert waiting for the bus to go to a job interview.

She receives communion with tears in her eyes, but then slips away at the end of Mass, feeling ashamed or less than the beautiful parishioners.

She has worn out the beads of her rosary from her constant praying, wearied from weeping in prayer for her child who is addicted to drugs.

She is exhausted from praying for her husband who is lost in pornography or to alcohol – or both.

Others pray as they go through a separation or a divorce;

others are experiencing terminal illness or unemployment.

Still others may have lost a friend over philosophical or political differences;

or a relative may have joined the Ku Klux Klan.

But take heart.

Keep praying.

A loved one of so many tears will not be forgotten

– as long as we are at the feet of Jesus.

Lord, help me.

Notes:

See the Collect for the 20th Sunday of Ordinary Time in the previous Sacramentary that was in use from the 1970s until 2011 when it was suppressed by the Promulgation of the Third Edition of the Roman Missal.

Almighty God, ever-loving Father, your care extends beyond the boundaries of race and nation to the hearts of all who live. May the wall, which prejudice raises between us, crumble beneath the shadow of your outstretched arm.

Surrender to a Peace that the World Cannot Give

Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter - Year B

[The Readings of the day are Acts 9; 1 John 3:18-24; and Gospel of John, 15:1-8]

We all likely know the story of St. Paul’s encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus. It was not simply a conversion, but a total surrender! A flash of light rendered him completely blind and Paul heard the voice of Jesus say: Be my disciple.

But now Paul is in real trouble. He was Christian enemy number one; the nemesis to the early Jesus movement, but now also considered a heretic and traitor to Judaism.

So when he shows up in Jerusalem supposedly a disciple, we can understand the fear and anxiety of the church. After all, he was the one responsible for St. Stephen’s martyrdom.

Paul is an exile. He’s been proclaiming Jesus as Lord, but now he is in trouble for it, not only from the Pharisees and Jewish religious establishment, but now he is being held suspect by the Church, or at least the leaders, the early bishops we might say, and even Pope Peter.

Fear can truly arrest people. New ideas scare folks. Many people fear change. People are often suspicious of newcomers. It could be a fear of different language, different cultural backgrounds, or even a fear of others who become knowledgeable in matters of faith.

There are those who have great insecurity when people think and pray and even do theology differently or, dare I say, fight poverty and economic injustice. We know there are those who would like have us keep our faith in the sanctuary and not challenge the social, economic, and/or political order, yet we are called to forge ahead with the full gospel.

So how is Paul going to join the Church community? Who will help him convince the leaders that he really is one of them?

He meets Barnabas!

Barnabas was of the Jewish priestly class, a Sadducee, who had come to believe in the Resurrection of Jesus. Now this in itself is amazing because the Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection of the dead! But Barnabas was filled with the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit blew away all his old fears, fired his faith, and gave him the wisdom to proclaim the Good News of Christ!

And in Luke’s account, Barnabas not only believes in Christ, but he believes Paul’s story. And it is Barnabas that took charge of Paul and brought him to the other apostles. Barnabas is risking it all and surrenders his reputation for Paul’s sake. Barnabas loses himself all for the newcomer Paul, a former enemy of the faith. And when he does, the disciples receive Paul as their own.

But only because of Barnabas!

It took a Barnabas to bring the disciples and Paul together. 

Barnabas was a nickname. Bar-nabas means “child of encouragement’ or “child of Consolation”. Each of us are called to be encouragers, consolers, encouraging one another in the faith, in love, in charity, in hope!

But, more trouble came for Paul when he spoke with and debated with the Hellenists, the Greeks. They tried to kill him!

 There is a risk in discipleship. It is dangerous being a prophet, it’s dangerous being church!  

It may remind us of Dorothy Day of the Catholic Worker.  Dorothy was willing to risk her reputation for the sake of the gospel. She was not seen as a “good” Catholic by many in the church because of her subversive ministry to the despised, the powerless, downtrodden, and praying for and working for social and economic justice and peace.

Her bishop said to her, “Dorothy, there are those who say you and your companions are destroying the church.”

To which she replied: “I thought we were being the church.”

[And today there may be certain voices in the church who simply want parishioners who pray, pay, and obey, but we are called to be more than Catholic bobble-heads!

Our faith must be a lived reality, following Jesus Christ as a way of life!  

So we have an inkling of why some religious people wanted to kill Paul. To the religious establishment, he was not only ruining Judaism, but he was ruining the Christian Way. He was breaking boundaries, even allowing women leaders and Gentiles to become followers of Christ.

In Paul’s letters he called certain women his fellow laborers and co-workers in the gospel. There were those who were very critical of his allowing women leadership positions in the Church. And [my wife said], don’t think the women were just darning the apostles’ socks or carrying their well-water either.

We only have to think of the thousands of religious sisters  and lay Catholic women who are workers in the vineyard, teaching, comforting the sick and dying, prisoners, and assisting the immigrant, the hungry, the forgotten and the hopeless.

Really, it all began with Mary of Nazareth, who proclaimed: “Let it be done to me according to your Word!”

And later it was Mary Magdalene took the message of the 

Resurrection of Christ to the fearful apostles hiding behind locked doors in the all important upper room where all theological decisions were being made!

[Or just one example among many, I could tell the story of St. Catherine of Siena – a doctor of the Church – who helped restore the church’s unity, but alas, that would be another homily.]

Suffice it to say, in the Christian community women were leaders. 

As they are still today.

As for St. Paul, after the Greeks tried to kill him, the disciples send him to Tarsus, his home, where he could process his entire experience. Sort of a retreat of sorts. Paul's faith and ideas were a real challenge to Peter and the boys.

But what is so interesting in the first reading is that despite all the fear surrounding Paul and the desire to kill him, Luke immediately tells us that THE CHURCH WAS AT PEACE. Peace? 

Really? The Church was at peace. How??? 

How can there be peace with so much distrust, fear, insecurity, and suspicion?

Where would this peace come from? How can there be peace?

Luke tells us it was “with the consolation of the Holy Spirit.”

St. John tells us in his gospel that there is a peace that only Christ Jesus can give.

So how can we as individuals and as a church community be at peace? 

Well, what did Barnabas do?

Barnabas took the time to listen. He listened to Paul’s story. Barnabas made himself vulnerable. Barnabas surrendered his own concerns for the concern of another. Barnabas reconciled Paul with the church. Barnabas did not judge Paul.

Barnabas let go of himself…

And WHAT BARNABAS DID WE ARE CALLED TO DO.

For to be at peace is to be in Christ.

And Barnabas had found that peace.

And Barnabas shared that peace with Peter and Paul and all the church.

Because, you see, Barnabas was rooted in the vine of Christ.

You and I are called to be the Barnabases in others’ people lives.

Yes, there is a risk in ministry, yet Barnabas’ example shows us that to be church means to be at peace even amidst conflicts and differences.

With such encouraging words, can we imagine the great things the Lord will do through us, his weak human instruments, if we would but trust in Christ, being fruitful branches of Christ, wherever we are, and to whomever we encounter, regardless what some may say?!

Christ promises us that he will remain in us if we remain in him!

We hear the Word and take it in, and allow it to form us, and then when we approach this altar and receive the Eucharist, Christ will dwell within us in an intimate way, so that we might be Christ to one another.

As St. Paul wrote: “It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me.”

So, we pray, O Lord, make us your branches like Barnabas to be your message of mercy to everyone we meet, to those who think they have no one, and let them know that there is a living Church community they can call home, where they can be tended to and nourished and allowed to grow.

O God, give us the courage to risk all and be like Barnabas, children of encouragement – to one another – and to a fearful world – that we might lead others to that peace which is beyond all our understanding and is found in you alone. Amen.