Lecture

The story of the Canaanite woman is one of the most problematic in the New Testament. We find her story in Matthew 15 and in Mark 7. The characters seem all mixed up, with Jesus as the rude antagonist and a pagan woman as the righteous defender of the faith. Moreover, the story is difficult to classify. Is it a healing narrative, or a sayings of Jesus story, or a conversion account? Matthew draws attention to the geographical place and ethnicity of those in the story. I suggest attending to those details, as well as having an appreciation for the honor-shame culture of the day, helps sort out this confusion.

The stage is set in the region around the Gentile cities of Tyre and Sidon. These are located north of Galilee and Mark situates the conversation in a house, while Matthew is not specific. Mark identifies the woman by her location, this Gentile region along the coast. This area exerted power over the Jews and this woman would have had what we call today privilege. Matthew calls her “the Canaanite woman,” and that’s a reference to Israel’s past arch enemy. Matthew chooses a theologically charged description, and that seems to intensify the distance between the woman and Jesus.

However, Jesus’ genealogy includes the Canaanites Tamar, and Rahab, so the reader knows that in some sense this woman identified as the Canaanite in Matthew 15, she can claim to be family in that theological sense. Recall that Rahab spoke confidently and prophetically about the God of Israel, who was the most powerful God. She protected the Israelite spies who, when they returned from their expedition, paraphrased her words about Israel’s victory as they reported to Joshua. Again, Tamar, Judah’s daughter-in-law, was more righteous than he, for she focused on family honor and duty, and her tenacity was crucial for Jesus’ line to continue.

The Canaanite woman approaches Jesus directly, and in Matthew there is the first recorded direct speech from a woman. Because of her direct speech, some interpreters suggest that she’s an immoral woman or at least one without a husband, but this conclusion is based on a faulty reading of later rabbinic material. Recent scholarship has shown that respectable women were active in public spaces, so our protagonist should not be understood as dissolute, or husband-less, only very needy. Her daughter is desperately ill.

At this point, the reader assumes Jesus will heal her daughter and go on His way, but instead He makes two astonishing statements. The first one we find only in Matthew, and then the second is in both gospels. Yet before Jesus even speaks in Matthew, He is silent, and it feels like He’s ignoring this woman. His disciples speak to Him and many of the translations say, “Send her away.” But AJ Levine, in her great book The Difficult Words of Jesus rightly notes that the verb the disciples use, can be translated “to loose.” And it is possible that the disciples ask Jesus to loose the demon from her daughter. Their encouragement to heal her certainly reflects their experience with Jesus as one who heals.

Instead of healing, however, Jesus says, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” Now we hear this and we think, well, what about the Great Commission, that last verse of Matthew’s gospel, where Jesus says to His disciples, Go and preach the gospel, and make disciples of all people, or all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit. And I am with you always to the end of the age.

Levine points out that here, and earlier in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus limits His mission to the Jews in the area, not to Gentiles or Samaritans. In the great missionary discourse of Matthew 10, the disciples are given careful instructions about mission and told to focus on the lost sheep of Israel. Levine suggests, persuasively I think, that Jesus has a two-part plan in mind: To the Jews first and then to the Gentiles, as Paul will also say in Romans 1, And I would add that the church would need Pentecost, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit to create that unity of Jew and Gentile, as well as to equip Gentile believers, who are former pagans, in their journey out of that darkness.

The woman responds with additional petitions, “Lord, help me.” Now she has already identified Jesus as “son of David,” acknowledging His Jewishness, and by implication, her own paganism. She’s desperate, but she’s also expressing faith and Jesus will commend her faith at the end of the story. Jesus still does not hear but gives what sounds like a pejorative brush-off. “It’s not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” Did He just call this distraught mother a dog? Yes, He did. And it doesn’t matter if the word refers to a little dog or a family dog, it’s still not a compliment. This is not the Jesus that we have come to expect, nor one which Matthew has shown us. Here’s where we need to dig deep into the conventions of the day.

First, the woman’s behavior. Levine observes that it fits a type common in the ancient literature where a subject approaches their leader with a request, and that request is initially dismissed, but later conceded to. In the exchange, the leader is shown to be just and fair, and the subject is judged virtuous, and both receive public honor. It’s a win-win situation. A win-win situation is often uncommon in this zero-sum game of honor-shame that structured the ancient world social customs.

So for example, the author Macrobius tells a story of an old soldier who desires the Emperor Augustus to speak on his behalf in court. Now, initially the emperor refuses to go but he says, “Oh, I’ll send a representative.” Well, at this point the man raises his sleeve to expose his scars and he shouts that he didn’t get a substitute when fighting for Augustus at Actium, a famous battle. Macrobius notes that Augustus was suitably chastened, and not wanting to appear haughty or ungrateful, Augustus appeared in court, thereby serving his subordinate and highlighting his noble character. There’s a similar story told by Dio Cassius about a woman who calls out a request to the emperor Hadrian as he passed by. Now, at first, he said he didn’t have the time, but when she declared, “Cease then, being emperor!” he stopped in his tracks, and he granted her a hearing.

In sum, the exchange between Jesus and the Canaanite woman fits this ancient trope used for rhetorical effect, which turns on the virtue of a ruler. Given his high status, the leader initially sees no reason to busy himself with the problems of the average poor in his kingdom, but a good king will be chastened out of that self-important spirit and respond with grace to the request. Now, I’m not suggesting that Jesus was haughty, but I am proposing that this encounter fits a pattern whereby a ruler who had every social right to ignore a plea, was nevertheless shown to be compassionate by acceding to his subject’s wishes.

Most people back then would’ve thought it proper for Jesus, a Jewish prophet, to ignore the cries of someone far beneath Him on the social order, a Gentile woman. Therefore, Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus’ gift to her would not be lost on the crowd. Nor, in this scenario, is the petitioner denigrated. She maintains her high view of Jesus, even as His behavior seemingly signaled otherwise. But Jesus shows He is a superior leader, a superior prophet, by recognizing righteousness when all others fail to see it, and He rewards the one who demonstrates virtue.

Levine points to the Sermon on the Mount, which enjoins disciples to turn the cheek, and the Canaanite woman did this. It encourages meekness, and that includes the quality of listening to those whom society places on the lowest rungs of the ladder. Jesus models this. So it is not the case then that Jesus lost an argument, as is often claimed. This incident, rather, reveals His character. He didn’t change His mind in the sense that Jesus now saw His ministry differently. The woman gave Jesus the opportunity to highlight His good leadership qualities.

Moreover, the dialogue presented the woman a chance to gain honor. She pursued the virtuous course and with the occasion to speak and to model uprightness publicly, she earned the highest prize in antiquity, honor. She also secured Jesus’ highest praise, “Woman, you have great faith.”

The story of the healing of the centurion servant found in Matthew 8 and in Luke 7, includes instructive parallels. Jesus initially hesitates to heal his servant, and the centurion confesses his own unworthiness of Jesus’ attention but expresses confident belief in Jesus’ power to heal. In the next session, we will learn about the Samaritan woman at the well.