Scriptures: Isaiah 56:1,6-8; Psalm 67: Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32; Matthew 15: (10-20), 21-28
Reflection by Kit Allgood-Mellema, Worship Leader
16 August 2026, 12th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 15A
We sometimes come across a reading with sections in brackets, as in today’s gospel reading from Matthew where the first eleven verses (10-20) are bracketed. I found two explanations for why this happens – the first is it gives the option to shorten what might otherwise be a long reading, and the second is scholars may question whether the bracketed section was part of the original text. At St. Peter’s, we usually include the bracketed sections, as we did today. Along with the three other readings we heard today these verses help show us a clearer picture.
Keep in mind - each of the readings we heard follows a common theme, a theme that includes ‘all the peoples,’ the nations,’ ‘all the ends of the earth,’ ‘the foreigners,’ ‘others,’ ‘mercy for ‘all,’ and Isaiah’s words, ‘my house will be a house of prayer for all peoples.’
To help set the stage, it’s good to know that the opening verses of today’s reading – the bracketed verses - are referring to the first nine verses of the chapter. In those first nine verses, the Pharisees had left Jerusalem to find Jesus in the countryside and chided him because his disciples didn’t wash their hands before eating, a tradition of the elders. Perhaps still aching at the loss of his cousin John, Jesus turned and lashed out at the delegation and took them to task, scolding them for breaking God’s commandments for the sake of their tradition.
We then come to today’s reading – beginning in brackets – which picked up right after Jesus’ comments to the Pharisees. Jesus called the crowd to come to him so he could explain what he had just said to the Pharisees, prompting this response from the disciples: ‘you have offended the Pharisees with your words!’ Jesus continued with his explanation, then chose to leave and go into the district of Tyre and Sidon, two ancient cities along the coast of what is now Lebanon. It was there that the main event occurred, the disturbance that ties all these readings together.
Mark’s gospel named her a Gentile of Syrophoenician origin, a person from the coastal area of Tyre and Sidon. Matthew’s gospel labeled her a Canaanite. That term might be a euphemism for foreigner but could also mean someone of a lower status. In the 3rd century CE someone in a written homily gave her a name: Justa. And because everyone deserves to be called by name, I am going to call her Justa.
As Jesus ended his day of travel, Justa suddenly approached, calling out to him, acknowledging him as Lord, begging him for help. Jesus did the unthinkable. He ignored her.
The disciples were adamant, ‘Send her away! She’s loud, she’s obnoxious, she’s bothering us!’ Jesus came back with a pat and dismissive answer. Not satisfied with his response, Justa did something very radical – she came directly in front of Jesus and knelt down before him. Kneeling before a person was a sign of respect and acknowledgment. But the person on their knees was also vulnerable and open. And yes, it was a sign of submission, but the disciples were about to get a lesson in how one could appear submissive and be powerful at the same time. On her knees, Justa spoke directly and honestly to Jesus. She took him to task just as he had done with the Pharisees. She spoke the truth back to him, the truth that even as a foreigner she had heard, that what he offered was offered to all. And finally, Jesus said yes. Her daughter was healed.
Did the disciples notice that Justa had done what Jesus himself had been doing all along? Justa spoke truth to power. She reminded everyone present that God’s promise of love was a promise encompassing all of creation. We don’t know anything about her status, her education, her family connections, but as a woman, as a mother with a daughter who suffered a terrifying illness, she felt she had very little to lose. She had no choice but to approach Jesus, as an outsider, as a woman who had very little social standing. She had to say the words that needed to be said. She had no other options. Let’s face it - it’s often those who have nothing else to lose who speak most clearly and honestly, who hold up a mirror, who shine a light back on our intentions, our words, our actions, who challenge those in power in ways no one else can.
I’m not going to dig deep to try to figure out why Jesus began to turn away from Justa. That’s been addressed by a lot of people who are more knowledgeable than I am. But I will say this – I wonder if Jesus was expecting a different response from the disciples. I wonder if he hoped they would say, ‘Lord, what can we do to help her?’ This was not simply a story about the great faith of one woman.
This is a story about Isaiah’s promise that God’s house would be a house for all people. It’s a story about God’s saving health among all nations, and about all the peoples praising God. It’s about God’s mercy for all, not simply a few specially chosen people. (Do those words sound familiar? We heard them earlier this morning.) This story is a reminder that we are all beloved people of God. This is a timeless story about yearning for a life that can be lived to its fullest, in peace, with justice and mercy, abundance and wholeness and love available for all to embrace and share.
This is also a story about what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. And it is a reminder that no one – not one single person - should have to beg for their basic needs and rights. Not for nourishment, nor shelter. Not for clothing or health care. Not for safety or justice or dignity. We each made a promise in our baptismal covenant to seek and serve Christ in everyone, to love our neighbors as ourselves, to strive for justice and peace among all and to respect the dignity of every beloved human. That’s what this story is about.
And this is a story about us. The question is, where will we find ourselves in this story? How will we help?
Thanks be to God! Amen!