The Rev. Joseph Farnes
All Saints, Boise
Proper 18B
It’s the first part of the Gospel reading that probably made you uncomfortable today. Even if you’ve heard it countless times, it still stings a little to hear Jesus say that to this woman. It doesn’t match up cleanly to what we say about Jesus. Sermons have contorted themselves in all sorts of ways to tidy it up. Those sermons might say that Jesus was testing her, or that it was playful sassy banter.
I also think it’s ok to let an uncomfortable text be uncomfortable for us. That discomfort, that little bit of anxiety is an invitation to look inward. Why am I uncomfortable, why am I anxious?
So what makes us really uncomfortable with this gospel text? Let me make a guess: perhaps this text is uncomfortable because we imagine if Jesus says this to someone else, perhaps he’d say it to us. We worry about being on the receiving end of a miffed, frustrated, annoyed Jesus.
We want consistency, we want predictability. People can tie themselves into all sorts of impossible knots to assure themselves that they are 100% right in their religion, their politics, their culture, their identity. If they convince themselves they are 100% right, then they have that consistency they crave. They’re not 100% right, but they’ve convinced themselves they are – and that’s what they’re wanting deep down.
But consistency is only part of the story. We also want to know whether we matter, whether we are cared for. If Jesus gets annoyed with the woman in this story, would he care about us? About me?
It’s like our childhood experience – when a parental figure was mad at us, either because we’d misbehaved or because they were having a bad day, we as children would ask ourselves, “Am I still loved? Am I lovable?” In healthy parent/child relationships, the child can answer that with “yes.” They can see the anger in the moment, but the underlying love and lovability are clearly there.
But in less-than-healthy relationships, that answer might not be clear. If the child isn’t getting regular, authentic assurances that they are loved as they are, they can develop an unhealthy image of themselves. They might think they are unlovable altogether, or only loved if they do the “right” thing, or better off not getting close to anyone to protect themselves. Children are incredibly smart and pay attention. Children are genius at figuring out patterns like that.
Psychologists John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth helped describe this pattern in what is called “attachment style.” The attachment that a child develops toward certain figures in their childhood will influence how they relate to others throughout their adult life. For example, if the child figured out that they were loved only when they achieved something, they may always end up one-uping others because they have to be the best to be lovable.
So this pattern applies to our relationship with God, too. If we had to achieve to receive love from parents, we might think we need to achieve perfection to be loved by God. If any trace of anger was a sign of imminent danger, we might feel panic at any of that language of God’s frustration.
Let me show you how that applies: years ago I was telling the story of one time as a young intern at a church that I got a little too confident about preaching. I hadn’t gone to seminary yet, but clearly all I needed was to hear the readings and I could ad-lib a sermon on the spot. Yet at the peak of my hubris, the Holy Spirit decided to take a vacation and I was left stammering and rambling until someone’s watch beeped and I said “amen” and sat down.
But as I wrapped up telling this story, someone was aghast – it sounded to them like I was saying that the Holy Spirit was punishing me. This wasn’t a fun story, this was a mean story! From this person’s perspective, any hint of frustration was a feeling of absolute and complete rejection. From this person’s perspective, I was saying that the Holy Spirit was vindictive and punishing. This person seemed to have experienced a childhood where love was fragile and deeply conditional, and so this person may have felt rejected all the time as a child. God being frustrated with me and letting me make a fool of myself in the context of a caring faith community was the same to them as their experience of being rejected as a child. So a Gospel passage like todays would be a huge obstacle for them, too. It would bring up all that pain again.
I hope that we are all in our healing journey and that we know that people’s love for us is deep. If you’ve been married for any length of time, or if you’re close with your parents, children, friends, or even your pets, know that they can love you deeply and also be annoyed with you without their love diminishing. That love is a secure foundation, and God’s love infinitely moreso. We might feel anxious, but we can trust that love is still there. We might have to work on it, but we can learn to trust.
Or to put in a little more humorous way, you may recall that my parents were visiting last weekend. I love my parents, and they love me. I am both their beloved baby boy, and also, to use the most clinically appropriate term, a butthead. I am both, and often at the same time. That’s how we managed to get through working on that rock garden in front of the rectory – all of us have strong opinions about how to get it done, and we can be frustrated yet also love one another.
Now, you may be wondering how this relates to the Gospel. We’re surely off track, yes? Not really. I told you I don’t have a nice, tidy explanation of that uncomfortable passage. The woman was right, she was persistent, she was vindicated, and Jesus changed his response. But, perhaps this uncomfortable story is here to draw us deeper into our own reaction to the story. Maybe the Holy Spirit made sure this story was told so that we, thousands of years later, might have a story that reflects our own anxiety and fear about being loved and accepted. We have countless Biblical passages about Christ’s acceptance and love and inclusion – hence why the story sits uncomfortably with us. Maybe this uncomfortable story is here to help drive the point home, that things can be uncomfortable and yet we also can trust in this foundation of God’s love.
We read the strong language Epistle of James and are commanded by Jesus to show no partiality toward the rich, the well-off, the well-educated, the respectable, and we know that Jesus would have us include all and to take care of people’s needs. The strong language of James tells us of how serious this command is, yet we should not do so out of fear. We should do it because it is how we show love to our neighbor. This is how our neighbor knows that we truly love them, not because we feed them because otherwise Jesus will be mad at us, but because we truly love our neighbor whom God has created.
And in this way, we and our neighbor both learn of the consistency of that foundation of God’s love working through us. We develop a sense that God’s love is predictable and safe, that bad days and misbehavior are not the end of love. We are secure in love. So no matter the feelings that pop up for us – we can trust in God. God is consistent, God is constant. Our feelings tell us something about ourselves so that we may grow deeper in connection with God and one another. Amen.