I’d like to begin today with a riddle. What do a rainbow, a desperate Canaanite woman seeking help from Jesus and Cornelius the Centurion have in common?
As you give thought to that, let me remind you that the rainbow in the sky, according to the account in Genesis, chapter 9:8-17, was established by God as a sign of the lasting covenant, after the great Flood. In that covenant, God promised never to take such extreme measures as a great Flood again and ever since, the rainbow has been seen as a sign of hope.
The story of Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21-28 has long been one of my favorite stories. In it, a Canaanite woman, a non-Jew, asks Jesus to heal her daughter, tormented by a demon. Jesus, in effect says, “I have come only for the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” of which she was not a part. When she pleads for his help, Jesus coldly remarks, “It’s not fair to take food intended for children and give it to the dogs.” To which she, desperate for help, responds, “Even the dogs get to eat the crumbs that fall off the table.” Jesus sees both her desperation and her point of view, and responds to her plea by healing her daughter.
And today, we hear of Cornelius the Centurion, a guard in the First Century Italian Consort, who has a vision in which he is encouraged to seek out Peter. He sends two of his slaves and one of his soldiers to find Peter, who is also having a vision of what God is calling him to do. The two men, Cornelius the Centurion, a Gentile, and Peter, the faithful Jew who now follows Jesus, meet. After telling each other their respective visions, Peter’s heart is moved by the Holy Spirit and he baptizes Cornelius into the Christian faith.
This act marks the first time someone other than a Jew had been baptized and become a Christian. As such, Cornelius is the first Gentile, the first non-Jew, to become a Christian.
So, what do a rainbow, the Canaanite woman and Cornelius have in common? All three served to change the minds and heart of first God, then Jesus, then the mission of the church.
So often when we think of God, Jesus and the church, we think of beings that are fixed, solid, unchangeable, unaffected by the events of daily life. But after the devastation of the great Flood, by the rainbow, God gives a sign that God has changed, pledging never again to go to such extreme measures when the covenant is broken between God and humanity.
In healing the Canaanite woman’s daughter, Jesus’s heart and eventual mission in the world is changed. No longer exclusively to be the Messiah of the people of Israel, Jesus’ mission field now expands to include all the children of God.
And by their respective visions recorded in Acts 10, both Cornelius and Peter are changed. Cornelius is moved to seek to know more about what this new faith, centered on Jesus of Nazareth, is about and Peter is moved by the Holy Spirit to baptize into the faith Gentiles, those who were not already Jewish. As a result, the efforts to share the good news of Jesus Christ became a worldwide mission.
I read a review this week of the new book by Gary Wills entitled The Future of the Catholic Church with Pope Francis. Wills, a long time commentator on the history and future of the Roman Catholic church raises the question—Can the church ever change? In this book comes his response, noting the many times the Roman Catholic church has changed, sometimes in dramatic ways, in an effort be relevant and faithful. Noting that the church has not always had priests or popes, Wills also points out that transubstantion, the belief that the bread and wine literally become the body and blood of Jesus, was not recognized as dogma for over 13 centuries and that for over 19 centuries, the notion of papal infallibility was not taught.
The reviewer of the book concludes, “Change is the respiration of the church, its way of breathing in and breathing out.” (Dan Clenendine)
Wills points out several places and times in church history where the church significantly changed its outlook and direction. In the matter of church-state relations, over its history, the church at first ignored the state. Jesus was expected to arrive in glory at any moment, and so the main emphasis of the first century church was to convert as many persons as possible to belief in Jesus Christ. Then as the church grew and became more influential and a threat to the power of the empire, and when Jesus did not come again to signal the end of history, the church found itself in a place of vulnerability in relation to the power of the state, began to be persecuted by the civil authorities. In 327, when Constantine had his vision of a cross in the sky, a vision which he declared also ordered him to go and conquer by, the church became allied with the state and the persecution ended as the church and state found ways to work together. And Wills notes, in the high Middle Ages, in many ways, the church took over the sword of the state with its "crusades, inquisitions, interdictions, in the christening and excommunicating of kings." (Wills, op. cit.)
One other significant area where the church has changed, for good and bad, has been in terms of Christian-Jewish relations. The first Christians were faithful Jews, who believed Jesus to be the fulfillment of the promise of a Messiah. At first, the followers of Jesus maintained their Jewish identity and faith. But as the Church grew and developed, it separated from those Jews who did not see Jesus in that way and continued their search for a messiah. The new found Christian church at first welcomed pagan Gentiles. As the church grew and eventually separated from the Jewish community, the increasing Gentile membership began to be critical of the church’s Jewish ancestors. And by the end of the first century, there had become great antagonism between Christians and Jews, antagonism which we get a sense of in some of the Scriptures written then, which contain some of the harshest descriptions of Jewish leadership recorded in Scripture and history. In the centuries that followed, the incidents of Christian anti-Semiticism are numerous, acts increasingly being acknowledged by church leaders with words of confession and requests for forgiveness.
We are used to hearing of the change of heart of those who come into contact with Jesus or that faithful group of young apostles. But in today’s story, two minds are changed, two hearts are converted. While historically, our focus has been on Cornelius, let us never forget that Peter was also changed and converted. And his conversion opened the door to expanding Christianity throughout the world.
Today we hear how the Holy Spirit came and moved upon Peter, and in the process, abruptly brought to an end his sermon. In fact, I learned in researching this lesson, that this half-finished sermon is actually the last sermon given by one of the original apostles in the book of Acts. And if in fact this is so, what gracious words to finish on—“Can anyone withhold the water from baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?”
Two thousand years later, once again the church finds itself in a circumstance calling for a honest look at where we are being effective and where we need to grow.
Dr. Stacy Johnson of Princeton Seminary recently noted, “The church that we have given our lives to faces a tsunami of change. Our structure. Our worship. The ways we communicate. Our place in the culture. Our expectations of membership. The kinds of people who are drawn to our ministry and mission. The places where the gospel needs to be lived.”
In such dynamic times, so often our response is like that of a turtle, to withdraw into the safe and familiar shelter of our living. But Peter both proclaims and models the wonders of life left trusting in the Holy Spirit. There is always risk in living faithfully, perhaps no more so than now as we face a “tsunami of change.”
In times like this, two visions give me hope. One is proclaimed by Philip Gulley, in his book If the Church Were More Christian, where he writes, “If the church were more Christian, Jesus would be a model for living, rather than an object of worship. Affirming our potential would be more important than condemning our brokenness. Reconciliation would be valued over judgment. Gracious behavior would be more important than right belief. Inviting questions would be valued more that supplying answers. Encouraging personal exploration would be more important than communal uniformity. Meeting needs would be more important than maintaining institutions. Peace would be more important than power. We would care more about love and less about sex. This life would be more important than the afterlife.”
The other vision that gives me hope for where we are to go next in exploring the mission field we are a part of, comes from an unlikely theologian in modern days, but one whose wisdom has a certain relevancy for this Mother’s Day in our nation—Erma Bombeck. Many will remember Bombeck as a nationally syndicated columnist for many years, whose blend of humor and wisdom, often grounded in her daily experience as a working mother, entertained and engaged for many years. Someone once asked Bombeck how she answered one of the more challenging questions that mothers of more than one child eventually are asked, “Which one of us do you love the most?” Bombeck noted that mothers and fathers struggle to answer this question diplomatically, but not her. “That’s easy. Which one of you do I love the most? The one who needs me the most.”
For me, Philip Gulley’s synopsis of Christian faith looking forward, so wonderfully grounded in the core strengths of faith lived out in grace and Bombeck’s wise and loving answer to a challenging question give us a vision of where God is calling us to go. To seek out in love and grace those who need us most. And to proclaim, in word and deed, witness and caring, the wonders, love and grace of God.
We began this time of reflection with a riddle today. By God’s grace, may we live into the ever-changing future as the disciples of the One whose heart was always grounded in sharing love in the course of his days. Thanks be to God. Amen.