Light that cannot be ignored

The book of Joshua chapter 3, verse 10 reads, “Joshua said, “By this you shall know that among you is the living God who without fail will drive out from before you the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites…”

This is the story of the Israelites arriving back in their homeland, from which they were exiled for generations and were wandering in the desert for 40 years before finally finding their way back home.

Now the text above says all those peoples were driven from Israel but there is other evidence that says at least some Canaanites stayed in Israel and of those Canaanites, some were even related to the Hebrews arriving back in Israel.

And now, many thousand of years later after the Israelites were resettled, Jesus is in the land of Tyre and Sidon, a district north of Galilee.

He is moving through this place away from home and a woman calls out to him: “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.”

Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.

Why would she know about this Jesus fellow as being a Son of David?

How does she know his lineage?

Well, in fact, Jesus’ genealogy includes three Canaanite women: Rahab, who helped the Israelites find their way into Jericho; Tamar, mother of Perez and Zerah; and Ruth, hero of the book of Ruth and great-grandmother to King David.

This woman, talking so familiarly with Jesus, is one of his distant relatives.

Now, granted, and also, Jesus’ fame might have preceded him, too.

The word of his many miracles and healings must have traveled far and wide and that might be why she is so familiar with him.

And Jesus is familiar with Tyre and Sidon as well.

Jesus spoke about those cities when he recited his litany of woes on Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum as being places that would fare far worse than Tyre and Sidon.

For those three cities were places were where his power had been displayed but their inhabitants did not confess to God.

Woe to those cities, Jesus exclaimed saying, if the deeds of power done in them had been done in Tyre and Sidon, the citizens of Tyre and Sidon would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.

So, Jesus knows Tyre.

And he knows Sidon.

And he is in this region for a purpose though it’s not entirely clear what that purpose might; perhaps it is to test his theory that these two cities will repent even though they are Gentile cities when they witness Jesus’ great acts of power.

Matthew only mentions that Jesus and his disciples left Gennesaret and withdrew to this region, so the exact reasoning is unclear but here we are, in the region of Tyre and Sidon, two rather important cities in Phoenicia and what is now southern Libya.

Back to the story.

He is in that region and he is walking.

Or maybe sitting under a cedar tree for shade and cooling and rest.

Then it happens: “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.”

And there was no answer, only silence.

He just keeps moving, walking, ambling along with his disciples, he ignores her.

Or maybe he just sits there, maybe chewing on an olive his thoughts are miles away.

Still though, he ignores her.

Obviously so because she is shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.”

Nothing.

No answer.

And the disciples are getting annoyed by this, they are quickly tired of hearing her pleas and say to Jesus, “Just send her away, she is yelling at us over and over.”

One more time, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.”

Finally, Jesus replies that she is not the focus of his miracles, his blessings, his radical forgiveness, his healings.

No, that is for the people of Israel and not the gentiles and most certainly not a Canaanite woman.

The people of Canaan were driven out by Joshua and David, the people of Israel are God’s people.

She was not one of the lost sheep of the house of Israel and maybe too, Jesus was only in Tyre and Sidon to look for those lost sheep.

Those lost sheep who were a part of the ten lost tribes of Israel, who vanished when the Assyrians invaded that kingdom and the peoples of that land were exiled.

Perhaps that is why he ignored her; perhaps he was so single-mindedly focused on bringing those ten coins back into Israel’s purse, those ten lost sheep back into Israel’s fold, that Jesus did not consider for one second the Canaanite woman’s plea.

“Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.”

Finally.

After silence and ignoring her, after hearing his disciples pleas that he silence her and send the Canaanite woman away, Jesus finally replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

No, no, no, that would not do.

He must not have understood.

Did he not realize her daughter was suffering?

And she was suffering for this mother knew her daughter hurt, she felt the child writhe and wriggle in pain as the demons tormented her.

The mother knew her daughter’s pain and felt her daughter’s pain as only a mother could feel her daughter’s pain.

Did not Jesus know that pain, too?

Did not God know that pain, too?

The Canaanite woman moved closer to Jesus, she knelt before him.

“Lord, help me,” she said simply and quietly.

No longer shouting, tired of shouting, tired of witnessing her daughter’s torment, tired of not being able to help her daughter, to cure what ailed her, to remove the demons herself, she said simply and quietly, “Lord, help me.”

And distractedly perhaps; maybe Jesus was looking into the distance for those lost children of Israel, maybe he was looking far off into the horizon, wondering and hoping against hope that he would bring those lost sheep home.

Maybe he didn’t realize how hurtful the words he was about to utter were, but he did utter them and he said, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

There she was.

Kneeling before this great and wonderful man, this man who could perform miracles, who was already known to cast out demons, calling her a dog.

But she was no dog, no animal, she only wanted her daughter to be healed.

Was there anything more human than wanting a child to be well?

And she tried everything.

Every medicine person, every doctor, every person in Phoenicia who might be able to help was called upon to help.

And they were unable to help.

Still, her daughter remained unwell.

No, she was no dog, though perhaps she was begging like a dog, she was no dog herself.

But she knew dogs.

The Phoenicians kept dogs for pets, she knew their behaviors, they were smart animals.

And if Jesus would refer to her and her people as dogs, then she would respond with the same analogy: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

Did her response shock Jesus?

Did he turn his horizon casting eyes down upon her?

Did he see this woman kneeling before him for the first time?

She used his words to respond to him, and perhaps he looked at her with those kind eyes expressing the glee of Gene Wilder in Willy Wonka when Charlie finally got it all right and inherited that chocolate factory of dreams.

“Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish,” said Jesus.

And it was finished.

Her daughter was healed.

Her daughter was well.

She tried everything there was to try and after having been told “no” or “I’m sorry I can’t help” or “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” she kept trying.

This is persistence.

This is persistence with faith, faith that this man could help.

Faith that no one with faith would be turned away.

“Help me, Lord,” she said.

And he did.

Now, I just mentioned it and I will say this, one of my favorite movies is Willy Wonka.

I’ve written sermons about that movie and I’m sure I will again, anywho, in the great finale when it all comes together, well, no spoilers.

I mean, it is a fifty-year-old movie, but I’ll try not to spoil the ending and well okay, I already spoiled the ending but seriously, go check it out if you haven’t seen it already.

So, in that finale, Willy Wonka quotes Shakespeare’s the Merchant of Venice: “So shines a good deed in a weary world."

Now, the full quote is: “That light we see is burning in my hall. / How far that little candle throws his beams! / So shines a good deed in a naughty world.”

That is our lesson this morning, friends, the light of the Canaanite woman cannot be ignored.

Perhaps her light even added to the light of Christ.

For her light overcame the darkness, her light drew in the son of God.

Her light was her faith and her faith made her daughter well.

And her faith was the cure that made her daughter well.

The light we hold too is our faith.

Though sometimes it may seem small, even in a sometimes-darkened place our faith can light up the world.

So great is our faith that we can bring light to the world.

Bit by bit, and person by person, with the persistence of the Canaanite woman, we can change things for the better, more healing, more miracles, more forgiveness, more love in a world that needs such things.

Let know one tell you differently, for the Canaanite woman’s faith and persistence turned Jesus to healing; our faith and our persistence will too… turn the world.

Amen.