The Opposite of Faith

The Opposite of Faith Matthew 15:10-28

When I was nearing the end of my university training, before I started at the seminary, I got a phone call from one of our district superintendents. He wanted to take me out to lunch and talk with me about serving a church. This request caught me by surprise, and the first words out of my mouth were, “Can I serve a church?” He assured me I could, which is why he wanted to talk to me.

I have to confess that I didn’t know much about church appointments at that time. The church I had attended since I was 4 years old had three full time, seminary trained pastors, a full time organist who had also been to seminary and was ordained, a resident custodian, and several office staff members. My experience was that it took a lot of people to keep one church running. So I was surprised when the district superintendent asked if I would like to pastor four churches.

My brain instantly made this a simple math problem: if it takes three pastors to run one church, and they wanted me to run four churches, then someone had to think that I must be twelve times the ordinary pastor. I wondered what this district superintendent could have possibly heard about me; because I knew just as quickly that this calculation wasn’t right in any one’s imagination.

It turned out that being asked to serve four churches was not a sign that the powers that be thought that I had great potential as a church pastor. Instead, it was a sign that they thought I would do anything I was asked to do, simply because I didn’t know enough to say “no.”

The four churches were ones that no one else wanted. No other pastor was willing to serve even one of them as a second point on a charge. I was starting to feel like Mikey, from the Life cereal commercials. One pastor said, “I’m not going to serve that church.” The next said, “I’m not going to serve that church.” And then the first said, “Hey, let’s make Nick serve those churches. He’ll serve anything.” They might have been just as surprised when they saw “Hey, he likes it!”

There was something worse, however, than no other pastor wanting to serve these four churches. It was that these four churches knew that no one else wanted them. The two “bigger churches” met twice a month, and averaged 21 and 12 people in attendance. The two “smaller churches” met once a month and averaged 9 and 4 people in attendance. They were put together as a charge by the district superintendent because it is easier to find one person to serve them all than it was to convince four other pastors to each add one of them to the church they were already serving. And that is why I got the phone call.

Three of the four churches were glad to have me as their pastor – or at least, they were glad to have someone as a pastor. I learned this after one of them told me they thought I had been sent there as punishment, but were relieved to find I was just starting out. The fourth church was struggling, even by the modest standards set by these other churches.

After a few months in this appointment, I told a story at this fourth church that I had heard that week at the seminary. The pay-off line of the story was that not only could Jesus have forgiven Judas, who betrayed Jesus once, but that Jesus can forgive you and Jesus can forgive me, who betray Jesus over and over again when we sin. I thought it was a good story, what with the Wesley brothers talk of being the chief of all sinners because we know better and yet still sin. If that is our condition, it is good news to know that we are still forgiven. Six of the people in worship agreed that this was a good story as they practically ran to the altar railing to receive communion. The other six people sat in the back of the sanctuary with their arms crossed, scowls on their faces, refusing to come forward.

When my district superintendent called me later that same day, I learned that I had offended the six who refused to come forward. Instead of hearing that they were forgiven, they heard me say that they were worse than Judas. And, instead of talking to me, they had called the district superintendent to see that something was done to make sure I would never offend them again.

Before our reading, Jesus had told some really good stories at a beach party about the wideness of the good news, the patience of the good news, the depth and the breadth of the good news. And people were telling some really good stories about what Jesus was doing – feeding the 5000, walking on water, calming storms, healing the sick. This is amazing stuff, opening the eyes of the people to the truth that Jesus is the Son of God, the messiah, their savior.

The Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus after this remarkable run of stories and actions. They asked him a question about the importance of ritual cleanliness, specifically the washing of hands. They asked why it seemed that the disciples of Jesus neglected this important duty. Jesus, in response, asked them a question: why do you neglect the important laws of God in order to keep the little traditions of the Pharisees? Why do you teach and practice that maintaining your cleanliness is more important than loving your mother and father?

Jesus knows that this is a teachable moment, so he addresses the crowd, which now includes the Pharisees. Jesus tells them that it is not the food that goes into our mouths that make a person unclean before God. Your body can take care of that uncleanliness by keeping the good while passing out the bad and unnecessary. What makes you unclean is the stuff that comes out of your mouth – if what comes out of your mouth is not in keeping with the will of God.

And instead of hearing that our words reflect the condition of our heart before God and our neighbors, the Pharisees heard Jesus say that what came out of their mouths was worse than the stuff taken away in sewers.

The Pharisees were offended. They were proud of their learning, and they were proud of their position in sharing that learning with others. They believed themselves to be the definitive word on the Law of God. They believed that to disagree with them was to disagree with God. And yet they had just heard, with their own ears, Jesus compare their words to theological doo-doo. So they complained to the only ones they thought could convince Jesus to knock it off – they complained to the disciples.

The disciples didn’t always agree with the Pharisees, and they didn’t always understand Jesus, but they were pretty sure that Jesus didn’t mean to offend anyone. Maybe they could talk with him, just to see if there was perhaps another way to make his point, so that everyone could get along.

The disciples didn’t want to offend the Pharisees. After all, they were part of the Chosen People. They were trying to do the right thing. Their whole reason for being was to follow the Law of God as precisely as they humanly could. You would think that kind of effort and intention should be encouraged by Jesus. So it’s a big deal for the disciples that the Pharisees are offended. The Pharisees are an important constituency in the Jewish world. The disciples are pretty sure that they are going to need their support and influence if they are ever going to complete Jesus’ vision for the coming kingdom of God.

But the disciples also know that Jesus isn’t careless about what he says and does. So, the disciples needed to know what Jesus meant about the uncleanness that comes out of our mouth. After all, the Pharisees know more about clean living that anyone. They quote their Bible at every opportunity, to everyone, to prove their point. How can Jesus say that what the Pharisees say is unclean?

Jesus tells them – and us – that it is the heart that matters. Faith isn’t really about ritual cleanliness and following the rules, even though faithful people generally are pretty good at ritual cleanliness and following the rules. True faith, at its core, is about loving God and loving our neighbors. Much of Paul’s letter to the church at Rome is about this discussion, about the relationship between the law and love, that the law has value and a purpose, but that value and purpose is only fulfilled in love. I encourage you, when you get home, to read again Paul’s letter to the Romans!

But back to our reading – this encounter between Jesus and the Pharisees shows us that the opposite of faith is not breaking the laws of God, but taking offense at the love of God. The opposite of faith is not avoiding good and doing evil, but taking offense because we have decided for ourselves what is good and what is evil. The opposite of faith is not questioning God’s word, but taking offense because we separate those words from God’s love.

True, genuine, living faith is about our heart, from which our actions flow. It is the fulfillment of keeping the commandments to love God and love our neighbors, as Christ has loved us. We know we have a true faith when, as Jesus said it in Matthew 11:6, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”

Essentially, Jesus tells them that if we do anything that is not grounded and rooted in godly love, it reveals the uncleanness, the sin, of our heart – even if we are closely following the law. If we say anything that is not grounded and rooted in godly love, then it reveals the uncleanness, the sin, of our heart – no matter how holy the source of those words might be. And if our actions and words do not draw us closer to the vision of God’s kingdom of peace and love for all God’s people, then it reveals the uncleanness, the sin, of our heart – no matter how righteous or traditional we may consider our cause.

That seems easy enough to grasp – Jesus says we are to really love God, really love our neighbors. But do the disciples understand this? Well, they are immediately given a test when they encounter a Canaanite woman, in the region of Tyre and Sidon. This woman, unclean by every measure of the law, comes to Jesus asking for mercy for her tormented daughter. This is a testable moment for the disciples, so Jesus doesn’t say anything. It is up to the disciples to apply what they have learned from their recent lessons.

And the disciples fail. The disciples come to Jesus and say, “Everything about this woman offends us. She is an unclean, gentile, woman, living in a Greco-Roman seaport area, obviously being punished for her sins as evidenced by her demon-possessed daughter. She has no business – she has no right – to bother you or us with her problems, which she has brought on to herself.” Can you say “oops”? Jesus replied to the disciples, “I came for the lost sheep of Israel – the wideness, patience, depth, and breadth of the lost sheep of Israel.” It is a way of reminding the disciples that the lost sheep are all the people who need God.

The woman who needs God comes to Jesus, the Son of God, and asks for mercy. “Mercy” means compassion for someone who does not deserve it or who cannot earn it. Jesus makes this clear that what he is about to do is merciful, because in the eyes of the disciples, this woman is nothing more than a dog. The woman does not disagree that she is unclean – she comes not in worthiness, but in need of mercy.

This is when Jesus declares that her faith is great. She is not offended by recognizing her need, but instead is commended for her love for her daughter. Jesus has compassion on her, and mercifully heals her daughter.

Before hanging up, my district superintendent told me to keep telling the stories of Jesus’ mercy and forgiveness. He told me that there will always be people who will be offended because there will always be people who do not have faith in the merciful and loving God revealed in Jesus Christ. Some of the people offended might even be the best people in your church, those who have given their lives to doing what is right, and who are following the laws and traditions of the church. But that doesn’t mean you should go out of your way to offend people because we need to remember that our words do reflect the condition of our heart. But this is the cross we may have to bear if we are faithful in telling the stories of Jesus.

Maybe you are here today because you love and follow the laws and traditions of the church. Maybe you are here today because you know your only hope of salvation and a new life is in the mercy of Jesus Christ. The good news is that there is a wideness, a patience, a depth, and a breadth to the mercy of Christ that covers us all. There is mercy still reserved, not just for the Canaanite woman who knew her sin, but for you and for me in our sin. And I invite you in the name of Christ to receive this mercy today, to receive the healing of your spirit, to have your demons cast out, and to know that you have been found in the love and grace of Jesus Christ. I invite you to come forward to the altar to commit yourself to a life of discipleship, or to ask for mercy and grace anew as we sing Charles Wesley’s classic hymn, UM Hymnal 355, “Depth of Mercy.”