By Rev. Russell Daye
St. Andrew's United Church, Halifax

The Politics of the Table

Genesis 45: 1-15; Matthew 15:10-28

The story of Jesus and the Canaanite woman is becoming increasingly popular. This was certainly not the case in the past. Preachers ran away from the story or tried to explain it away because it portrayed Jesus in such an ugly fashion. Mark's version of the story, which Matthew copies, changing very little, says Jesus was trying to hide away. This probably explains why he's wandered into Lebanon - the region of Tyre and Sidon: He's tired and needs a break. This also may explain his grumpiness.

In any case, he is found out by a gentile woman who has come looking for help; her daughter is possessed by a demon. (Today we would likely say that her daughter suffers from a mental illness.) She is crying for help so loudly that the disciples ask Jesus to send her away, obviously feeling no compassion. The reader expects Jesus to scold his disciples for their insensitivity, and then to help the woman. But we are shocked to discover that he is just as uncaring. He says to the woman, essentially, 'being a Canaanite, you are a dog to me.'

No doubt the woman would have liked to return insult for insult. But this impulse is squashed by her desperation to have her daughter healed. She clings to the hope that this strange Jew can help her despite his ugly personality. And so she employs rhetorical cleverness, saying 'even the dogs get to eat the crumbs that fall from the table.' Her display of restraint and wit humanizes the woman in Jesus eyes. He grants her request; the daughter is healed.

I think the reason that this story is increasingly popular is that we are becoming more and more comfortable with the notion of a human Jesus, even an all-too-human Jesus at times. The story shows Jesus as inconsistent, needy, and even unpleasant. It slays the fallible, perfect Jesus of theologies we are trying to leave behind. Women preachers seem to take special delight in this passage because it is a woman, indeed a marginalized woman, who teaches Jesus how to be more fully human.

Reading through Matthew 15 this time, what struck me was the hypocrisy of Jesus. He has just taught his disciples that it is not what goes into the body that defiles a person but rather what comes out, what comes out of the heart. And what comes out of Jesus heart? A declaration that borders on racism and misogyny: the depiction of another human being as a dog.

One of the things careful interpreters of the Gospels pay attention to is the sequence that the writers give to the stories and teachings they include, the bits that they choose to put next to each other. It's curious that Mark and Matthew both choose to follow Jesus' teaching about inner and outer cleanliness with this story of the Canaanite woman. Is it their intention to point out that Jesus could be hypocritical? They may have shared that intention, but there is something else going on here. Both of these passages have to do with politics of the table.

The former section has Jesus dismissing Jewish dietary laws and challenging a theology of the table that says eating certain foods or certain combinations of foods can place a person in a spiritually unclean state, can make that person an anathema to a community. These are politics of the table that separate Jew from Jew, depending on the strictness of their practice, and which separate the Jews as a whole from gentiles. His startling shift of focus tells his listeners to pay attention less to the external forms of religion, like food taboos, and to pay attention more to that which is being generated in the heart: love or hatred, truth or lies, lust or compassion.

No wonder the Pharisees are disturbed; Jesus is upsetting the table in a fundamental way. In Judaism there is no separation of the table of earthly food from what we might call 'the table of spiritual food.' Any of us who have had the privilege of sharing a Shabbat or a Seder Supper with Jewish friends can understand this. This was also true of the early church: communion, the sharing of spiritual food, was a full meal in which the faithful took together that which sustained the body and that which sustained the soul.

So, when Jesus starts challenging the dietary laws he is disrupting the very boundaries of the table; he is changing the rules about who can eat with whom, who can fellowship with whom, who can pray with whom. Even more destabilising is his shift of focus toward the heart. What makes a person righteous? Not adherence to the outer religious forms but attention to what is growing in the heart and spilling out into human relations. For those who believe that they are working their way to righteousness through obedience to laws, this is a very threatening teaching.

And then, as the Gospel of Matthew progresses, a very entertaining thing happens: the doctor is given some of his own medicine. The boundaries and manners of Jesus' table are themselves overturned - by a woman and foreigner. Jesus has withdrawn from the crowds for some rest and nourishment. He, for a time, will set a smaller table, sharing only with his close circle of disciples. There seems to be not only an economy of material food, but also an economy of spiritual food. This too is scarce and right now Jesus has only enough to share with the Jews in his circle - until the Canaanite woman gives Jesus a broader glimpse of common humanity. Her spirit inspires his and suddenly his spiritual food is not so scarce. The daughter is healed.

The Pharisees don't know it, the disciples don't seem to get it, but the upsetting of the table can be very good news. The upsetting of Jesus' table was good news for him. The upsetting of the table can be very good news. It opens up whole new horizons for fellowship and nourishment.

2500 years ago there was a massive upsetting of the spiritual table in India, and the world has been benefiting ever since. The religion of India was tightly construed by the cast system. Spiritual grace was dispensed by the priestly caste, into which one had to be born, through very formal rituals. Then, as Indian society underwent great shifts, thousands of seekers broke free of the system, threw off the outer forms of religion, gathered in forests and caves, and initiated a tremendous period of spiritual experimentation. They explored the human heart with an unmatched intensity of focus. Buddhism was born of this womb. The yogic tradition was born of this womb. Jainism was born of this womb. First India and then all Asia were transformed. Now the fruits of this time are spilling into the west.

Friends, we are undergoing a massive upsetting of the table. We in western Christianity are undergoing a massive upsetting of the table. Generally, we don't see it as good news. Naturally, we don't see low attendance or the closing of buildings or shrinking denominational offices as good news. But! The upsetting of the table can be very good news.

These passages from Matthew bring into crystal clarity a couple reasons for the upsetting of the table. People are leaving our churches, where so many of them learned that righteousness lay in the outer forms of religion, to attend to the heart. I have met countless people who have said to me some version of the following: 'I was brought up in a congregation but faith seemed to be about going to church one hour per week and sitting quietly and singing the hymns and listening to sermons; that didn't do it for me. I wanted to take my spiritual growth more into my own hands. I found the Spirit by studying meditation … or by spending long hours in the wilderness ... or by helping the poor … or by going deeply into a yoga practice … or by doing a volunteer term in Africa.' Friends, this restlessness has to be seen as good news!

A second, related reason for the upsetting of our spiritual table is that people are no longer willing to accept the boundaries of that table. Anglicans are saying, 'I refuse to go to the table only with Anglicans.' Catholics are saying, 'I refuse to go to the table only with Catholics.' United Church folk are saying, 'I refuse to go to the table only with United Church folk.' Christians are saying 'I refuse to go to the table only with Christians.' Middle class people, especially the young, are saying 'I refuse to go to the table only with people of my class.' Friends, this refusal has to be seen as good news!

Friends we need this good news. We need to breathe it in. We need to be energised by it. But so long as we see the vast changes happening around us as bad news we will never be able to absorb their energy. So long as we respond to them with constriction, we will never be able to breathe in their hope. So long as we respond to them with fear, we will never be fuelled by their power. So long as we cling to our table, pressing down with all our might so that it will not be upset, we will never be able to surrender to the creativity that our creator is unleashing all around us.

So here is what I suggest: Let's upset our table ourselves and see what happens. On Sunday morning here at St. Andrew's a couple hundred or so gather at this table (our altar). On Sunday evening a couple hundred or so gather at that table (the Sunday suppers for the homeless in our gym). Some of us come here in the morning and then drop off food for the evening. But almost nobody comes here in the morning and then returns in the evening to sit and eat with those gathered at table. I challenge you to try it. I don't mean serve them. I mean join them. While you sit and eat, attend to what is in your heart.

Here's another suggestion. Hold a worship service somewhere completely different. In a mall, in Point Pleasant Park, or some such place, and invite folks from a synagogue, a mosque, a Buddhist community, and the Native Friendship Centre to join you. Then break bread and talk together.

Peter Short, the previous moderator of the United Church had an idea. He wanted to find 70 congregations who would close their doors for a year and go into the world in pairs as Jesus' 70 disciples had done.

Friends, the upsetting of the spiritual table can be good news. The upsetting of the spiritual table is good news. We have nothing to fear but fear itself. We can go nowhere beyond the presence of God. Let's cast off our fear. Let's release our constriction. Let's breathe in the hope of the changes around us; and let's use the new energy to attend to our hearts. Then we will have much bounty to bring as we gather again at the table.