Today’s gospel lesson reveals the most human side of Jesus that he can be wrong. As a matter of fact, he is wrong about his way of treating the Canaanite woman despite his sociocultural context. Yet, not only does his freedom and ability to err make him human, but also his openness to learn from the gentile woman and his own mistake truly makes him more human. So two human sides of Jesus we see in today’s gospel lesson are 1) he is wrong and 2) he learns. The second aspect is something I would like to reflect on. What does he learn from the Canaanite woman?
There are three layers of social discrimination against the woman in the story. The first was done by Jesus’ disciples who cannot stand the woman’s desperate request for help. They ask Jesus to send her away. Jesus who usually doesn’t listen to them strangely listens to their request this time. He doesn’t tell the woman to go away but makes clear that he is sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. She doesn’t make the cut. In a way, she is lost but her Canaanite identity is the problem. Two requirements that one must meet to get Jesus’ help are being lost and Jewish. As the woman continues to ask for help, Jesus indirectly calls her a dog (more of a puppy) to send her away. Hence, three reasons for discrimination against her are 1) being loud, 2) being gentile, and 3) being almost like a puppy. We can see that this pattern of discrimination in our human history still repeats. It may be shocking even to think that Jesus can be wrong and is wrong. What should be more strikingly provocative, however, is how the Canaanite woman responds to him. At first, we might think the woman is simply begging for Jesus’ help. She doesn’t care what he says and how he treats her as long as she can get him to heal her daughter out of her motherly love. I don’t think this is an incorrect interpretation but it places the woman in a very passive role of women that our patriarchal society has been defining: virtuous women are foremost wives and mothers, or nuns if unmarried. (quite medieval!) From a spiritual point of view, I would like to consider that her act of responding to Jesus’ discriminatory words and rudeness comes from her spirituality of emptiness. From the beginning, she is self-less. She’s empty of herself, her ego. She’s fearless that she shouts at Jesus for help. It doesn’t matter if this Jesus guy is surrounded by twelve tough looking guys. There’s no sense of self that can get her caught up in feeling intimidated by their presence. She gets shut down but persists. This Jesus guy who is able to perform healing miracles disqualifies her for being gentile. She again persists and shouts, “Help me.” Here, this “me” no longer exists. That ego is completely burnt away for the sake of the other. She’s already self-less. There’s no shame in her persistent act of asking for help. The one who is self-less is the strongest and the most resilient. There’s nothing and no one to lose in this game of no-self. So she freely becomes a dog, a puppy. Not only she who has no self willingly takes the role of a puppy but seeks for the crumbs falling from that Jewish table. I often wonder what wisdom Jesus takes away from this selfless woman and his own mistake. I want to imagine that he learns how to empty himself and how to be a mother from her. His encounter with the woman who is self-less is like interacting with water. Water is versatile. There’s no obstacle that can stop water from flowing, flowing to the left or right, over or under. I’m reminded of Bruce Lee’s saying as I reflect on the woman: “You must be shapeless, formless, like water. When you pour water in a cup, it becomes the cup. When you pour water in a bottle, it becomes the bottle. When you pour water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Water can drip and it can crash. Become like water, my friend.” The woman never gets tangled up in herself or her ego. Her spirituality of emptiness is like being water to everything for the sake of love for the other. Jesus seems to take this wisdom to his heart and embodies as he takes up his own cross on which he’s crucified for the sake of love. As he would quote the latter part of Psalm 22 on the cross, “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast” (Psalm 22:14), (not just the first part of “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me…”) he becomes empty of himself. He gives his entire self to others for love and compassion. As Jesus becomes selfless like the woman, he knows how to gather the crumbs falling from the table. He, like a nurturing mother, feeds his children with the crumbs he gathers. This crumb is for us the mustard seed. It’s the yeast. It’s the kingdom of heaven that he feeds us with at the Eucharist. When Jesus tells the woman, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish,” this faith of the woman is what heals her daughter. Jesus simply affirms her selfless faith. What kind of faith is this? This is the faith that is completely empty of self. It is the radical act of letting go of oneself. How do we do this? We cannot let go of anything if there’s nothing to hold on to. We can let go of things, especially our own selves when there’s something greater than us. That something is our experience of being in union with God. In this union, we can lose ourselves because this mystical annihilation is the way to be one with God. The more we lose our fixated ego, the deeper we are aware of God’s presence in us and the greater we become conscious of our eternal oneness with God. Selfless love is possible if and only if there’s no self. Amen. |
Paul"...life up your love to that cloud [of unknowing]...let God draw your love up to that cloud...through the help of his grace, to forget every other thing." Archives
January 2025
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