The gospel writers have reasons for telling this story that typically get missed when it is read without its context, but that's not what I'm interested in today. Today I'm simply wondering about its uncomfortable and unsettling quality, along with our usual desire quickly to dispense with such discomfort.
There are more and less sophisticated ways of dealing with the discomfort. Some suggest that "dog" is somehow a term of endearment, which it is not. I'm more inclined to find some fancy exegetical move that's not so easily dismissed. But I wonder why we are not willing to sit with an uncomfortable and disturbing image of Jesus for a bit.
This passage is uncomfortable because it is contrary in some way to our existing pictures of Jesus. Perhaps that is simply because we've misunderstood the story. But if we move too quickly to provide and understanding that relieves our discomfort, we may simply be protecting our existing image. And that may get in the way of knowing Jesus more deeply.
All growth requires some measure of discomfort. If one is trying to grow stronger or increase her stamina, that discomfort will be physical. If one is hoping to grow emotionally or spiritually, the discomfort will be of another sort. Many of us seem easily to recognize the need for physical discomfort in pursuit of physical growth, even though it still dissuades many an exercise program. But when it comes to emotional or spiritual discomfort, we don't always make the connection.
This happens to me sometimes when I'm reading a book on faith or spirituality. I may be enjoying the book, nodding in agreement here and there, but then the writer steps on a deeply held article of my theology. Suddenly the author is diminished in my sight. Clearly he doesn't know what he's talking about. If, however, all my deeply held beliefs are unassailable, then I can never really move far from where I am, never really grow in any profound way.
That's precisely the problem that some religious authorities had with Jesus. When Jesus said something that made them uncomfortable, they immediately assumed he was wrong. It's a pose many Christians in our time assume whenever they encounter a notion about faith, a way of doing church, or an understanding of Jesus that doesn't fit neatly with what they already "know." (Today's gospel passage about Jesus and the Canaanite woman is actually part of a larger section dealing with the certainties of tradition.)
Very often when we try to get rid of discomfort - whether by explaining why Jesus didn't really insult the Canaanite woman or deciding a spiritual author is no count - it is a fearful act of self protection. Most of us have an almost innate need to defend ourselves, to preserve the identities we have constructed for ourselves, to be right. I know that I certainly do.
Interestingly, Jesus doesn't act this way with the Canaanite woman. He first says that he was sent "only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel," that, "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." But when the woman challenges his analogy, saying that "even dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table," Jesus does not defend his earlier statements. He applauds the woman's faith and does as she requested. An enacted lesson for us perhaps?
I wonder if Jesus' command to love our enemies isn't a way of challenging us to do some really difficult and uncomfortable self-examination. After all, our enemies are most often those we disagree with, who we fear and are most likely to react to in defensive ways. But loving them requires seeing them differently. And it likely requires painful growth of becoming different ourselves.
Jesus told is such growth would be painful. He spoke of it as dying to self. No wonder faith, even Christian faith that is supposed to be about loving God and neighbor, so often degenerates into hating those who disagree with us.
Click to learn more about the lectionary.
No comments:
Post a Comment