“Proceed from the Heart”
“Proceed from the Heart”
Genesis 45:1-15 Matthew 15:(10-20), 21-28
Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost Year A, August 20, 2023
First Presbyterian Church, Sandpoint, Idaho
Andy Kennaly, Pastor
Meditating on scripture, this passage in particular, tends to reveal things that a surface level, initial reading may miss. Sitting with the text, pondering as the story mingles with our own daily experience, may reveal, for example, the cascading effect throughout this passage, and energy flowing in and out like waves on the ocean. This passage starts big, as Jesus initiates the flow, calls the crowds to him, they come and gather around him, he shares a teaching.
Then the conversation narrows as it’s the disciples, those choosing to follow Jesus that come to him on their initiative. If there’s positive energy in the first part as Jesus teaches, the disciples have a different energy as they approach; more fear-based, worried as they come to Jesus with concern about how the Pharisees, the religious elite who pride themselves on obeying every aspect of God’s law; the disciples are concerned about how the Pharisees are receiving all of this teaching. So that’s the third cascade, a group that is talked about from a distance, and this group is what would be considered the insiders, the ones who ought to know when it comes to spiritual matters. Yet Jesus calls the Pharisees blind, and as they lead the blind, they simply fall into a pit.
We move from this detached assessment, after Jesus says, “Let them alone” into a yet smaller pool as Peter is mentioned and Jesus talks with him directly with detailed teaching that challenges conventional thinking and religious tradition while showing the power of inner experience. So here we have what starts big, now drilling down into the heart, mind, and soul.
But the cascade effects and waves of energy continue, becoming even more distant and dynamic as Jesus goes away, into a foreign land, the region of the despised cities of Tyre and Sidon, which are port cities, very wealthy, with an urban flair to them, even as the citizens cheat inland farmers out of crops to feed the city population. There’s classism and ethnic tensions here, political corruption and issues of economic, social justice are woven into the fabric of this scene. Just as we thought we were on the edge, cascaded down to a fine point, the energy flow flips as an unnamed woman approaches, and the disciples, who don’t want to deal with her, ask Jesus to make her go away, then the dueling conversation begins as Jesus and the woman discuss race, the importance of terminology when it comes to ethnicity, politics, economics, religion, faith, mindfulness, and healthcare, all in a few short lines.
If you read this passage slowly, repeatedly, you may notice a spectrum of images: Pharisees taking offense, described as blind as they do not recognize through their understanding – Canaanite woman kneeling as she has great faith and trusts in her heart as her heart perceives the mercy of God in Jesus.
She, too, has a cascading dynamic, moving from broad images of shouting, “Have mercy on me,” to the closer, more intimate kneeling posture, saying, “Lord, help me.” Jesus uses some harsh words, even some name calling. But who is helping who? Is Jesus drawing her out, intentionally resisting with a false front, or is she helping Jesus overcome systemic racism as he experiences the breadth of God’s love for the larger world? Either way, Matthew’s community who first read this Gospel needs to hear both messages: that God is in covenant relationship with the chosen people even though life seems defiled, and that this blessing extends in new ways to include the larger world; that Wisdom is deeper and broader than understanding, that the unfolding of creation builds upon, but is not restricted by, the Tradition. They are taught to trust their inner experience of the Divine in Christ.
Chris Highland is a former Protestant minister and interfaith chaplain who shares of a cold, dark, rainy December evening in the San Francisco Bay area when he visited prisoners in a penitentiary, first the men, then the maximum-security unit, then the women. He says, “As the chaplain, many people expected I would be telling the Christmas Story that night. They were in for a surprise. As you can imagine, the holidays are the hardest time of year for people inside. Separated from family and freedom, there is little to brighten the season. “Merry Christmas!” or “Happy Holidays!” aren’t the best greetings for an incarcerated person. You can’t be too merry or cheerful when locked up. The faces of jail staff show the strain as well. A chaplain practices a listening presence more than praying or preaching.
“This particular December I carried in sheets of brightly colored paper, much of it textured like wrapping paper. I laid the squares of origami out on the cold steel tables while telling the Japanese story of the “Peace Crane,” slowly folding a graceful bird with long neck, legs and wings.
“Sadako Sasaki, was a little girl who developed acute leukemia 10 years after being exposed to radiation during the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Inspired by the age-old Japanese belief that anyone who makes 1,000 origami cranes will see their wish come true, she spent her last days folding paper cranes on her hospital bed, and yet she died. But her story “sparked a children’s peace movement … that swept through Japan and transformed the origami crane into an international symbol of peace.
Chaplain Chris felt this story would inspire those locked away from society, people who weren’t feeling much “peace on earth” or goodwill behind bars.” He says, “Each one was silently attentive to my words and hands. The story of the suffering of an innocent child and the hope of healing and freedom touched everyone. The women were especially eager to start folding. I left an assortment of colors. Later that week, I walked down the hallway onto the women’s side and called out the usual “Man on Line!” to alert them of a male presence. Someone shouted, “Chaplain Chris is here!” Then as I rounded the corner I was greeted with a joyful surprise: all along the steel bars of the cellblock, row after row of origami cranes. All the colors displayed where no color was allowed. The women were smiling and laughing, delighted to show me what they had made. Some had carefully laced string from their jail-issue blankets through the birds to hang miniature mobiles on the bars, like ornaments gently turning in the air.
Then he reflects on this, and says, “I brought the paper, taught them how to fold it, told the story. Yet, it was the women who brought the brightness into their dark and depressing space. They had nothing but time and they used it for creativity in a very uncreative environment. […] I think that experience with the origami paper became a symbol of my chaplaincy and perhaps my life. An image of peacemaking, bird by bird — a gesture of hope folded into my memory.” (https://www.citizen-times.com/story/life/2019/12/25/highland-views-candles-cranes-and-light-dark-places/2742882001/).
Jesus goes beyond the confining boundaries of his religion, politics, and ethnicity. He opens himself to the innocent, to those suffering at a human level and he chooses to connect. We too are invited to humble ourselves, to invite God to work in your life, not just externally, but on the inside, to change your heart, transform your mind, and deepen awareness of your soul so what proceeds from your heart gives shape to life abundant; grace and love that is not confined by our limitations. Thanks be to God for amazing crumbs. Amen.