Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
August 20, 2023
Matthew 15:21-28

The audio of the sermon can be found here. The video can be found on the Trinity Church YouTube channel.

Can you imagine the smell? Think of an ancient city, like Antioch. Open sewers running through the streets. Dogs, cats, animals everywhere. People living in packed buildings, without the benefit of deodorant and toothpaste. Ugh. You know, this has been the first week back at school for Trinity. There have been odors wafting through the hallways I haven’t smelled in months. But still, that’s nothing compared to a place like ancient Antioch.

Now, imagine you live there. You worship the Roman emperor. Sure, things might smell bad, but you’re in a good neighborhood. You mind your own business like any good Roman citizen. Until, that is, some weirdos moved in next door. They don’t worship the emperor, they don’t offer sacrifices at the temple like you do. Instead, they eat and sing together and talk about this guy named Jesus. These weirdos call themselves Christians, and because they’re different, you decide to keep your distance. You have that neighbor don’t you. When you’re taking out the trash, you avoid making eye contact with them.

Until, one day, the people in the city start getting sick. It’s what we call the flu. Influenza. In a nasty, dirty, densely packed city like ancient Antioch, influenza would go through the population like a hot knife through butter. In the ancient world, when the flu hit, the people who could afford it left town as quick as they could. They went to their proverbial lake houses and quarantined themselves.

But you’re not wealthy enough to own a lake house. You’re stuck in the packed, stinking city, with people dying all around you. And then you get sick. And your network, your friends and family, they all avoid you now – either because they’ve skipped town or because they don’t want to get sick. You’re feverish, no one is there to make you food, no one is there to get you water. Unimaginable thousands of people died like that in the ancient world. 

Except, lucky for you, those weirdos who live next door. Those Christians. They don’t leave town – in fact, they come over and start taking care of you; they walk through the stinking street to get you water, they bring you the ancient equivalent of chicken noodle soup. You’re not part of their cult, you don’t know what they believe – and yet, despite your fever, they love you. They stick around, and offer themselves, even though some of them get sick and die. So when you make it through the flu and survive – who are you going to want to be around? Your old friends who got out of Dodge and left you for dead, or these people who came over to take care of you?¹

This is exactly how the early Christian church grew, and eventually came to be the predominant religion in cities across the ancient world. Small groups of Christians cared for other people who were not Christians who in turn, became Christians. This is not just an interesting historical analysis, it’s the heart of who we are. And we learn that from Jesus.

I know, this story about Jesus, on the surface, is terribly offensive. The disciples don’t want this woman around, they think she’s a pest. Jesus pretty much says that she’s not worth the trouble because she isn’t Jewish, throwing in a derogatory comment while he’s at it. Sure, eventually, Jesus relents and heals her daughter but this story rubs us the wrong way. 

A couple of things to notice, and they’re important. All throughout the gospels, Jesus says things to the disciples to see if they’re paying attention. And guess what, they’re not. Here Jesus says, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” And the disciples don’t catch it. Because we know that he’s not just sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. In fact, going all the way back to the Old Testament prophet Isaiah, God has made it clear that the purpose of God is to bring all people, even the outcasts, into the house of Israel (Isaiah 56:7-8). That’s what we read in the Old Testament today. So when Jesus offers grace to this Canaanite woman, it’s not anything new. No, Jesus is doing what God has always had in mind. And that is bringing together all people into one household, and serving them, regardless of who they are. Again, don’t get caught up in that false dichotomy that the Old Testament is about exclusion and wrath, and the New Testament is about love and peace. No, Jesus heals this woman precisely because of who God says God is in the Old Testament.

And what’s more, this is precisely where the ancient church got the idea to serve their neighbors, even if their neighbors weren’t Christians. When the rich pagans of Antioch get out of town when the flu came through, the Christians stayed and helped. Because that’s what Jesus did. And in fact, that’s what made people want to become Christians.

I cannot emphasize this point enough. People in the ancient world did not become Christians because they thought it was a ticket to heaven, or because they were convinced by church doctrine. No, people in the ancient world, regardless of their ethnicity, became Christian because a Christian had bothered to love them. 

So I have two things to say about that. You know I try to keep to one point in a sermon, but today I’m going to stretch it.

First, being a Christian is not just about punching your ticket to get to heaven. No, being a Christian means learning how to live like Jesus here on earth. And one of the things we get from this story is that Jesus loves and cares for the people who are not part of his group, his tribe, his ethnicity. That is what we do, too. We love our neighbor, regardless of who our neighbor happens to be, because Jesus loved his neighbors. We don’t skip town when things are bad, we don’t tell the desperate woman to go away. No, we love. That’s my first point. 

Now to stretch it, my second point. People in today’s world will not choose to become Christians because they are convinced by our doctrines. They will not start coming to church because we’ve convinced them with what we say, our because we have good church programs and youth groups and Sunday Schools. No, people will start following Jesus because they will see Christians, they will see us, and they will want to be like us. Like how we want to be like Jesus.

See, the modern world is not too different from ancient Antioch. We are suffering from a pandemic, not of influenza but of affluenza; it’s our affluence that is making us sick. Affluenza makes the people of this world believe that they can buy their way into happiness, into meaningful relationships, into healing. And it’s contagious. You see your neighbor’s new car and want one for yourself. You guess what their net worth is and start comparing yourself. You see where your friends went on vacation over the summer and have that bit of envy, so you start planning for next summer to one up them on Facebook. That is affluenza. It infects everyone, regardless of their race, tribe, or nation. 

So our job, our task, is to do what Jesus did. To bake our neighbors the proverbial casserole and love them back to spiritual health, regardless of who they are, so that they would be free from their sickness. So that they could see that connection, and meaning, and grace are offered by God to all people without a price tag.

With the start of the school year, with the beginning of the church program year, I’m asking you to put yourself in the place of those weirdo Christians back in ancient Antioch. In the midst of a stinking, feverish, dying city – do what Jesus would have done, and commit to doing good. Recommit to loving your neighbor, even if they are different. Recommit to going outside your comfort zone and helping someone else in Christian love. Recommit to your discipleship, to following Jesus.

Because, from what I know about myself, I, too have a touch of affluenza. And the only thing that can cure me, is a big dose of grace. And at the end of the story, that’s precisely what Jesus gives. Who does Jesus commend for great faith? Is it his followers? Is it the religious leaders? Is it the affluent? No, it’s this nameless Canaanite woman. She receives grace, and her daughter is healed. Take the grace from Jesus, so you, too, can be healed. 

1.  Stark, Rodney. The Rise of Christianity: How the Obscure, Marginal Jesus Movement Became the Dominant Religious Force in the Western World in a Few Centuries. 1st HarperCollins pbk. ed. San Francisco, Calif.: HarperSanFrancisco, 1997.
   ↩︎