Rector's Sermon
14 August 2011

First Reading	Psalm	Epistle	Gospel
Isaiah 56:1, 6-8	Psalm 67	Romans 11:1–2a, 29–32	Matthew 51:21–28

       Oftentimes we wish to picture Jesus as exceedingly patient, having time to listen to everyone, never in a hurry and rarely stressed. Yet if we listen carefully to the Gospels, we realize that he felt annoyance from the constant criticism of his opponents and dismay at the lack of understanding of his disciples. We know that he was pressed upon on many occasions, needed to get away by himself, clear his head, center his thoughts and listen to his God. Jesus knew that his ministry was limited. Sooner or later the authorities would come down hard on him, as they inevitably did on every perceived threat to their power. The execution of John the Baptist was just one of many examples, hardly the exception, to the brutality of the political realm. There was no time to waste as he traveled from town to town, from synagogue to synagogue.

       The cries of the Canaanite woman began as just one of many distractions. It was easy for the disciples to ignore this woman. They would have assumed that as a foreigner from another culture, she had no idea who Jesus was and would have cared less about his message. She likely mistook him for someone else. What would she possibly know about Judaism in general or a young Jewish rabbi in particular? Jesus had other places to go and to meet with people who potentially at least had the background to understand and accept his message. In this too brief respite between teaching opportunities, Jesus was summoning all his strength to deal with the challenges ahead. There were so many people that needed his help and insight into the scriptures and he did not want to fail any of them. 

       This woman was different. She persisted until Jesus paid attention. She did not become distraught; she clearly focused on getting Jesus to hear her. More than anyone else present on that day, who had surrounded Jesus, she really trusted that Jesus could help her. Jesus didn’t catch on at first, thinking she would be easily dismissed. The woman was no pushover and was not intimidated.  Again, the woman didn’t become angry or return an insult. Yet she had sized up Jesus pretty well. It was a teachable moment, and the woman made the most of it. I suspect Jesus was the one caught off guard. He knew she was right, and that she had given him a gift that would ever be remembered. She had educated him about what his mission had implied from the first. The Gospel was meant to feed everyone, everyone was invited to eat at God’s table, and there were no a priori outcasts in God’s eyes. In later years, as the story of this incident was passed on and retold, people of faith of every age also would be reminded that those outside of their own circle may have some significant insights that need to be heard, and that oppressed people should never be discouraged from speaking and telling their story. The baptismal promise to respect the dignity of every human being means giving everyone a voice.

       Soon thousands of students will be returning to our educational institutions. I have genuine respect for the scholarship and dedication of the large group of faculty that we have here in Ithaca.  We have outstanding teachers in our community and we should never take that for granted. Yet every year the wisest, and I suggest the most fortunate of faculty, experience those memorable halcyon moments when the professor learns more from their students than the students learn from their professor.

       When I’m commissioned to design a beautiful stained glass window on the theme of education, I know that there are many saints who deserve the title of educator, but I would wish that the window recalled a certain day in rural Galilee, where both Jews and gentiles lived, when Jesus was taught an important lesson, receiving a profound insight from an unlikely source. Jesus knew it and I think Jesus loved it.  The scene would not be set on a landscaped university campus, surrounded by stone clock towers. It would be on the outskirts of a small village, along a rutted country road bordered with golden rod and milkweed. Out on the edge of a hay field, some dogs would be playing. I’d make sure among all crowded around Jesus, wearing their hoods and doctoral gowns in their hearts if not draped upon their shoulders, that there was a prominent place for a Canaanite woman in simple peasant dress, confidently looking Jesus in the eye, sizing him up, drawing him out and helping him discover something of great consequence about himself.  A certain unnamed women whose only degree came from the College of Hard Knocks, but who served as an example of what the essence of education is all about.

       And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.