It probably wont surprise you that as a Precentor I really love liturgy. In particular I love the Colects, which are strung through the years Sunday bySundsy like a neclace of precious jewels. I'm not sure if I actually have a favourite though Acent Sunday and Lent are string contenders..,but I love how the words contain and support my prayers.
When the liturgical revisions that led to Common Worship began, it turned out that there were various prayers that had embedded themselves deep into the hearts and minds of those Anglicans reared on the Book of Common Prayer…Prayers so beloved that they simply HAD to be included in the new liturgies.
I imagine some of you are already busy scrolling through your mental archives, working out which prayers are on your own non-negotiable list – and you may well have landed in the same place as countless others.
The prayer in question is the one that refers directly to this morning’s gospel
“We do not presume to come to this thy table O merciful Lord
Trusting in our righteousness but in thy manifold and great mercies.
We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table
But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy….”
There it is. Humble crumble. A beautiful prayer, reminding us that when it comes to the life of faith, there’s nothing we can do to earn the invitation that God freely offers. It’s all about God’s own nature….ALWAYS to have mercy…
And yet, as we reflect on this morning’s gospel, it seems for a devastating moment or two that things might have turned out very differently…that the invitation would be not so much freely given as entirely exclusive.
Which makes this morning’s reading pretty uncomfortable I think.
Its very essence is a series of contradictions, which unsettle us repeatedly, so that we don't honestly know what to expect...any more than the disciples did as they lived through these events.
The longer version of this morning’s gospel presents a contradiction between Jesus's challenge to the established boundaries of Judaism, represented by the dietary laws, as he asserts that it is not what goes in but what comes out of the mouth that renders anyone unclean – shortly followed by his insistence that he is “sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel”.
Worse, his harsh words to a desperate mother who only wants help for her child seem in themselves to contradict all we thought we knew about a loving, compassionate Jesus...
He seems to step right out of character and, instead of welcoming the Canaanite woman with his customary grace, he not only rebuffs her but actually refers to her as a DOG.
As many of you know, I’m very much a dog lover - indeed my children used to comment that actually, I probably WOULD take their food and offer it to the dogs if push came to shove – but I'm afraid Jesus is really NOT talking about a much loved pet...any dogs about the place in 1st century Palestine would be street dogs, pariahs whose mangy descendants gather in packs to this day...Its those dogs whom the psalmist This really isn't a term of endearment.
Hard though it is to hear this, Jesus is pretty much calling that anxious mother a bitch, saying without compunction that as Gentiles, she and her daughter are not fully human, that they’re therefore beyond the scope of his love and his healing.
“It’s not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs”
Ooof. It’s so hard to hear this.
I want to retain my soft focus image of Jesus, the source of endless compassion – and I expect you do too. But instead there is this abrasive stranger, snapping at a woman who is only doing what she can for her beloved child.
However, the Canaanite woman is made of stern stuff, and refuses to go away quietly.
Driven by that strongest of all emotions, parental love, she responds in kind, picking up Jesus’s words and turning them back on him.
We may be dogs, but surely you’re not so mean that you begrudge us even the left-overs.
She refuses to take No for an answer…
And in doing so, she stops Jesus in his tracks.
Against his own expectations, he is forced into really seeing her, - another human being, a child of God…and what he sees makes him change his mind in a radical way.
What, - Jesus change his mind?
Surely not!
As God’s Son, Jesus must be perfect…the unmoved mover, no shadow of turning, right?
Or have we just hit another contradiction.
I rather think we have..
The Jesus who is fully human must – MUST – have learned...and to learn is to be changed by your growing knowledge.
He learned, he grew, and sometimes he changed his mind.
There’s so much more going on here than just an exchange of banter, for surely Jesus is forced to rethink the scope of his mission.
Jesus changed his mind.
Think about it.
Think about it if you are tempted, ever, to assert that your own understanding of faith or of Scripture means that you need not to listen to the views of others.
There is always room for another point of view…
It’s hard not to sympathise with the Jews, who believe themselves to be the insiders, on a fast track to Salvation, - their destiny secure simply because of who they are – the children of the covenant.
In our society, and in our church, we can surely think of behaviour that matches theirs, of insiders who guard their corners, and cannot believe in a God whose heart and vision are larger than anything we can encompass…
Those who perceive difference as a threat.
Those who cling to narrow horizons and view any kind of change as unwelcome.
But if we take Scripture seriously, our limited view is inevitably challenged.
In Scripture we meet a God who listens and changes his mind, whose unlimited love seem almost to surprise himself.
In Scripture, we encounter a God who is changed by his relationships, a God who is moved by the prayers of his children, and acts in unexpected ways to answer them.
In Scripture, above all, we meet a God who is love, and cannot remain unmoved by the beloved.
So let's rejoice at the contradictions – because in this passage Jesus comes to realise that his mission – and his love – are for all humanity – not just for the chosen race. God chooses EVERYONE and welcomes them, not to gather crumbs under the table but to sit and feast with the whole household of God, where we all have a place, forever..
probably wont surprise you that as a Precentor I really love liturgy. In particular I love the Colects, which are strung through the years Sunday bySundsy like a neclace of precious jewels. I'm not sure if I actually have a favourite though Acent Sunday and Lent are string contenders..,but I love how the words contain and support my prayers.
When the liturgical revisions that led to Common Worship began, it turned out that there were various prayers that had embedded themselves deep into the hearts and minds of those Anglicans reared on the Book of Common Prayer…Prayers so beloved that they simply HAD to be included in the new liturgies.
I imagine some of you are already busy scrolling through your mental archives, working out which prayers are on your own non-negotiable list – and you may well have landed in the same place as countless others.
The prayer in question is the one that refers directly to this morning’s gospel
“We do not presume to come to this thy table O merciful Lord
Trusting in our righteousness but in thy manifold and great mercies.
We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table
But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy….”
There it is. Humble crumble. A beautiful prayer, reminding us that when it comes to the life of faith, there’s nothing we can do to earn the invitation that God freely offers. It’s all about God’s own nature….ALWAYS to have mercy…
And yet, as we reflect on this morning’s gospel, it seems for a devastating moment or two that things might have turned out very differently…that the invitation would be not so much freely given as entirely exclusive.
Which makes this morning’s reading pretty uncomfortable I think.
Its very essence is a series of contradictions, which unsettle us repeatedly, so that we don't honestly know what to expect...any more than the disciples did as they lived through these events.
The longer version of this morning’s gospel presents a contradiction between Jesus's challenge to the established boundaries of Judaism, represented by the dietary laws, as he asserts that it is not what goes in but what comes out of the mouth that renders anyone unclean shortly followed by his insistence that he is sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.
Worse, his harsh words to a desperate mother who only wants help for her child seem in themselves to contradict all we thought we knew about a loving, compassionate Jesus...
He seems to step right out of character and, instead of welcoming the Canaanite woman with his customary grace, he not only rebuffs her but actually refers to her as a DOG.
As many of you know, I’m very much a dog lover - indeed my children used to comment that actually, I probably WOULD take their food and offer it to the dogs if push came to shove – but I'm afraid Jesus is really NOT talking about a much loved pet...any dogs about the place in 1st century Palestine would be street dogs, pariahs whose mangy descendants gather in packs to this day...Its those dogs whom the psalmist This really isn't a term of endearment.
Hard though it is to hear this, Jesus is pretty much calling that anxious mother a bitch, saying without compunction that as Gentiles, she and her daughter are not fully human, that theyre therefore beyond the scope of his love and his healing.
“Its not right to take the childrens bread and throw it to the dogs
Ooof. Its so hard to hear this.
I want to retain my soft focus image of Jesus, the source of endless compassion and I expect you do too. But instead there is this abrasive stranger, snapping at a woman who is only doing what she can for her beloved child.
However, the Canaanite woman is made of stern stuff, and refuses to go away quietly.
Driven by that strongest of all emotions, parental love, she responds in kind, picking up Jesuss words and turning them back on him.
We may be dogs, but surely youre not so mean that you begrudge us even the left-overs.
She refuses to take No for an answer
And in doing so, she stops Jesus in his tracks.
Against his own expectations, he is forced into really seeing her, - another human being, a child of Godand what he sees makes him change his mind in a radical way.
What, - Jesus change his mind?
Surely not!
As Gods Son, Jesus must be perfectthe unmoved mover, no shadow of turning, right?
Or have we just hit another contradiction.
I rather think we have..
The Jesus who is fully human must MUST have learned...and to learn is to be changed by your growing knowledge.
He learned, he grew, and sometimes he changed his mind.
Theres so much more going on here than just an exchange of banter, for surely Jesus is forced to rethink the scope of his mission.
Jesus changed his mind.
Think about it.
Think about it if you are tempted, ever, to assert that your own understanding of faith or of Scripture means that you need not to listen to the views of others.
There is always room for another point of view…
Its hard not to sympathise with the Jews, who believe themselves to be the insiders, on a fast track to Salvation, - their destiny secure simply because of who they are – the children of the covenant.
In our society, and in our church, we can surely think of behaviour that matches theirs, of insiders who guard their corners, and cannot believe in a God whose heart and vision are larger than anything we can encompass…
Those who perceive difference as a threat.
Those who cling to narrow horizons and view any kind of change as unwelcome.
But if we take Scripture seriously, our limited view is inevitably challenged.
In Scripture we meet a God who listens and changes his mind, whose unlimited love seem almost to surprise himself.
In Scripture, we encounter a God who is changed by his relationships, a God who is moved by the prayers of his children, and acts in unexpected ways to answer them.
In Scripture, above all, we meet a God who is love, and cannot remain unmoved by the beloved.
So let's rejoice at the contradictions because in this passage Jesus comes to realise that his mission and his love are for all humanity not just for the chosen race. God chooses EVERYONE and welcomes them, not to gather crumbs under the table but to sit and feast with the whole household of God, where we all have a place, forever..
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