Sermon

          The traffic report at the top of the hour reported heavier than usual traffic for a Friday.  Words and ideas were coming slowly.  It truly was one of those inevitable dry spells in writing and creating that all preachers know from time to time.

 “Might as well get out now and get home.  Avoid the worsening traffic.  Maybe I can think more clearly there,” is the prevailing wisdom.  Gathering up his coat, books, briefcase, and those pink return-call slips that were spread all over the desk, the pastor headed out.

          Fumbling for the keys to lock up the office, the phone rings.  To answer it or not?  The machine was on.  No one was in critical health or in the hospital.  As the pastor starts to leave, he says to himself, “Ah, why not?  Who knows who is calling?”

          Answering the phone, he hears a voice ask, “Is the minister there?”  A long silence follows as the pastor reflects on just how to respond.  After a big sigh, he answers, “Yes, I am the pastor.”

          “Oh good, I need some help.”

          Looking at the clock, he answers, “Well, it’s getting late.  I don’t know what I can do for you at this hour.”

          “Well, this is real serious.”

          Another sigh.  “Do I know you?”

          “No, I got your name from a friend of mine you helped last week.”

          “Well, that’s what we’re here to do.  It’s really been a tough week.  A funeral, two nights out at meeting, and I have still got a sermon to write for Sunday.  Can we talk about this after worship on Sunday?”

          “Oh no, this is a problem that needs immediate attention.  Besides, I don’t go to your church.”

          “Oh, where do you worship?”

          “Down the street, but they can’t help me.”

          “Well, this is awkward, but I’ve been real busy taking care of folks here.  And these are the people who pay my salary.  Helping you right now would be like taking food off of their table and giving it to some stray dogs.”

          A long pause, she got the insult which was intended.

          “Yes, I understand.  That’s what I’ve heard about your church.  You care about all of God’s children, all of God’s creatures.  And no one, not even dogs leave your church hungry.  And I need help right now!”

          Dropping the briefcase, turning on the light and grabbing the pencil, the pastor is won over.  “Well, your faith is great.  You’ve come to the right place.  What can I do to help you?”

          Anybody in the helping profession runs the risk of suffering from burn out.  The needs are many, overwhelming in fact at times.

          And in a twist on the promises of God, “To whom much has been given, much will be expected,” there is an additional burden.  “If you’re good at helping others, word will spread and more in need will seek you out.”

          Trust me; I don’t know anyone in the helping profession for any length of time who has not engaged in a conversation something like that one.  And so today’s lesson of Jesus ignoring, avoiding, and insulting a woman who sought out his help is a lesson that feeds us deeply, touching us in a vulnerable place within our hearts.

          It is a very human Jesus we read of here.  It has been quite a week, beginning with the execution of John the Baptist, followed by the feeding of the 5000, walking on the water to catch up with the disciples on the lake, and finding a way through the challenges and verbal traps of the Pharisees and scribes.

          “Let’s get out of this town and head on over to the beach” someone suggested.  Tyre and Sidon were towns on the Mediterranean.  And now this Canaanite woman shows up.  “What does she want?” And “why does she want help from me?”

          We hear increasingly in this day and age of compassion fatigue.  Despite riches and a life style the envy of all the world that we know in the US; more and more people balk at requests for help.  “How much more from me can you want?” we say in words and actions.  A tone of voice, a roll of the eyes, a long sigh before responding, “We all have our limits.”

          Fund raisers for charities speak of it very matter of factly.  Over time, different needs or causes seem to rotate in importance.   In recent years, ALS, especially this summer with the popularity of the ice bucket challenge has replaced Alzheimer’s awareness which followed breast cancer which followed AIDS as the medical concern that seem to be concerns that most people are most responsive to.  There is a growing concern and awareness of autism that has become a new priority, drawing more interest these days than the traditional concerns about mental retardation and mental health.  Supporting efforts to aid victims of child abuse gets more attention than seeking to help those suffering from domestic violence.  And citizen action lobbies have replaced environmental groups for many donors.

          Usually, the solution for any kind of fatigue is rest.  Time away to get recharged to fill up the reservoir.  But in today’s lesson, we see Jesus’ compassion fatigue cured as he is transformed by this desperate mother’s love for her child and her faith in Jesus.

          Can you recall the people who have transformed your lives?  I don’t mean caring parents, dedicated teachers, the first and/or the latest love in your life.  Not to mention possibly even an engaging preacher.

          No, here I mean those people who were for you as this Canaanite woman was for Jesus.  Someone who pushed your buttons or pushed your limits.  Someone who spoke the truth or confronted your understanding of humanity or the world in a way that changed you.  Transformed you, deepened your caring, broadened your understanding.

          In the UCC Statement of Faith, we give God thanks for the “prophets and apostles.”  My experience in life is that it’s a lot easier to give thanks for apostles than prophets, who so often stir us up from our comfortable homes, comfortable lives and comfortable pews.

          In fact, “prophets” inspire us from within, creeping inside our heads through dialogue or diatribe, and speak a word, frequently God’s Word, in new and wonderful ways that force us to broaden our understandings of the grace and movement of God in the world.

          I know who one of these prophets is for me these days.  A pastor, whose name I will very respectfully keep to myself, in one of our churches in CT.

          I don’t know if its chemistry or lack of chemistry, but whenever I see or hear him, or even hear his name, I roll my eyes, take a deep breath and watch my words carefully.

          The adjectives I could use to describe him are many, and not all of them are flattering.  But while my personal feelings may not be warm and fuzzy, my respect for him is great.  For indeed, to paraphrase Jesus here, “Great is his faith.”

          And while I have never warmed up to this colleague, let me tell you, over times, I have come to realize, although I hate it when I have to do it, but many times, he speaks God’s word for others to hear, especially for me.

          We mark the movement of world history by distinguishing a year as BC, Before Christ, or BCE, Before the Common Era or AD, Anno Domini, Latin for the Year of our Lord.   In a parallel way, we can mark the ministry of Jesus as BCW and ACW, which stand for Before the Canaanite Woman and After the Canaanite Woman.  For in this encounter we hear of today, the mind and heart of Jesus changed.   While no one can say for sure, but as the gospel unfolds, it appears that from this moment on, no longer did Jesus see his mission as being the Messiah for the Jewish people alone.  After this conversation, the Jesus proclaimed throughout the gospels is clearly called by God to be the Savior of all the world.  As a result, the mission field changes from the descendants of the 12 tribes of Israel to all the world.

          What’s more is that after this encounter, Jesus is more human.  Every encounter with one who is deeply suffering and deeply faithful changes us.  The faith of the Canaanite woman is transformative in Jesus’ heart and as fatigued as he might have been from the demands of so many in need, after this conversation, his mission field broadens to include so many more. 

          I came upon a quote this week from Nancy Murphy, a professor at the Fuller Theological Seminary in CA.  Murphy was being interviewed on NPR radio and in response to a question, said this, “If you pursue the truth, you will often end up having to change your mind.” 

          Jesus lived his life in pursuit of the truth and we who follow are called to do the same.  His mind and heart were changed.  We would be wise to prepare ourselves for as radical a change in our efforts to follow in faith.

          Our eyes, ears and hearts most always remain open to the call and command of God.  We may prefer “molasses over vinegar;” find it reassuring to hear the voice of God after a time of prayer or a retreat, but this lesson teaches us that God is likely also to come to us as one who pushes us past fatigue, irritation, maybe even anger and insults.  God comes to us in ways that shake us up, but also serve to reassure us.

          The Canaanite woman’s faith and persistence touched and transformed Jesus.  May we find it in our hearts to be grateful for those people whose opposition and challenges to our efforts to serve God faithfully are challenged in these days.  For by challenging us, these persons come to us as “prophets.”  Yet when their words and efforts help to widen our understanding of God and the world, they clearly serve us as if they were apostles.  Amen.