By Rick Burnette
A thorough reading of the Gospels should make it clear that Jesus wasn’t the model of being perpetually meek and mild. Frankly, He could be downright grumpy and blunt.
Take, for instance, the time He cursed a nonbearing fig tree for no apparent reason. Jesus also called King Herod a fox, not a compliment.
Then there’s the time He basically refers to a Canaanite woman as a dog.
This story has long been troubling to me for obvious reasons. Here’s Matthew’s version (Chapter 15):
“Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out, ‘Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is demon-possessed and suffering terribly.’
Jesus did not answer a word. So his disciples came to him and urged him, ‘Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.’
He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.’
The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said. He replied, ‘It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.’ ‘Yes it is, Lord,’ she said. ‘Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.’
Then Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.’ And her daughter was healed at that moment.”
The setting in which Jesus lived and ministered was off the charts regarding cross-cultural and multi-lingual dynamics. Aramaic-speaking Jews, some trained in Hebrew, comingled with Romans, Greeks, Arabs, Phoenicians and Samaritans.
Despite the cultural and language diversity of Judaea, Phoenicia and Galilee, the Jews prioritized separateness in worship and society. I assume the harsh statements of Jesus reflected the prejudices of His own people.
Having served for over three decades as field personnel with CBF Global Missions and with other ministries, my language learning and cross-cultural experience has conditioned me to be as nice as possible. Not that I haven’t failed often. But I would never want to appear to be dismissive towards anyone or their culture.
Perhaps some deeply nuanced banter was taking place that we’re misreading. But no doubt a dynamic of status was at play between Jesus and the Canaanite woman.
Referring to the concept of “power points” described by author, missionary and cross-cultural consultant Sarah Lanier in her book Foreign to Familiar to gauge how much influence someone might carry in a particular context, Jesus held considerably more points.
For one, He was a male in a paternalistic context. He possessed additional points for being a Jew, with a cultural sense of superiority toward the Syrophoenicians, or “Canaanites,” the antiquated label used by Matthew. The Canaanites were indigenous to the Promised Land that the Children of Israel conquered by force.
Plainly, Jesus doesn’t come across as particularly nice. However, the woman is no shrinking violet. She shrewdly counters His, “Is it not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs?” comment with a possibly sarcastic, “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”
Touche!
While I can’t imagine Jesus not feeling somewhat uncomfortable with her background, sharp wit and tenacity, she scored points with her comeback, winning His approval. Her daughter was healed at that moment.
As one trying hard to follow Jesus, I’m giving him all benefit of the doubt. I don’t believe our Lord was merely being racist and misogynistic. I’m certain He was teaching us something significant for here and now.
During his encounter with the Canaanite woman, Jesus demonstrated how to recognize personal prejudices and act against them. For those holding power points, overcoming an engrained sense of superiority to achieve mutual respect and positive interactions requires humility.
Humility creates the space to listen and consider the words of those less empowered, including those who make us feel uncomfortable.
What makes those of us who carry a few extra power points so determined to avoid discomfort? Perhaps it’s because underdogs often carry a stinging message that God desires us to hear.
As a middle-aged, White, male Christian, I recognize my advantages. Three or four days a week I leave my neighborhood with its HOA and tidy lawns to drive 40 miles to Immokalee. On my street, no law enforcement waits to pull over residents with broken taillights or check to see if I have a valid driver’s license or look foreign.
But in majority Black/Brown LaBelle and Immokalee, we encounter a heavy police presence. These communities are essentially occupied. Daily, we learn of more arrests, with even some visa holders and U.S. citizens being detained.
On Fridays, we see more children coming through the line at Misión Peniel whose parents were detained or deported. One local volunteer group is trying to source diapers for babies who’ve lost their moms and dads. And if folks can’t go to work, out of fear of arrest, they won’t get paid. Food insecurity is growing. That means longer lines at Misión Peniel.
Like the Canaanite woman, they are seeking help.
Some of my non-white coworkers and friends are quite blunt about the situation. Uncomfortably blunt.
If I’m willing to listen and reflect, I know that their raw statements, protests and actions reflect an unequal reality. They’re not safe, but I am. So how can this be? And what should I do about it?
Are we willing to listen to our misunderstood and underserved neighbors? Will our response be indifferent? Snarky?
Or will we be like Jesus, ultimately recognizing and acting against engrained prejudices? That could result in handing over accumulated power points, even affecting our standing among the powerful or worse.
Jesus’ willingness to engage in an uncomfortable encounter led to healing. Allowing ourselves to grapple with the uncomfortable truth of inequality is necessary for our own spiritual healing and mandatory for proclaiming the Kingdom of God.
Lord, give us thicker skin and softer hearts.