“Nevertheless, She Persisted”
Sermon offered on August 20, 2017 at Westminster Presbyterian Church
by Reverend Lynne Taylor Clements
On the occasion of a week after violence erupted in Charlottesville
On February 8 of this year, on the floor of the Senate, Elizabeth Warren gave a speech about then nominee Jeff Sessions. She was reading a 1986 letter from Coretta Scott King that criticized Mr. Sessions for using the power of his office to limit the free exercise of the vote by black citizens while serving as a United States attorney in Alabama when Ms. Warren’s colleague Mitch McConnell silenced her. In defending his actions, he stated, “She was warned. She was given an explanation. Nevertheless, she persisted.”
Nevertheless, she persisted.
Persisted in reading the letter even while McConnell warned her to stop.
Persisted in raising her voice even when she was told why she wasn’t allowed to continue.
Persisted in speaking up for people whose rights had been violated and whose voting voices silenced.
Nevertheless, she persisted.
Being silenced is not new territory for women who have long been told to pipe down, little lady or lower your voice, sweetie, taught that to speak up is brash and to stand silent is lady-like and demure. From classrooms to boardrooms to bedrooms, women have been told to hush up. They have been talked over and talked down to. And in the moments when women have raised their voices in loud protest, they have been alternately ignored and called names, been cut off, relegated to a corner, and told to go away.
Throughout history, women have persisted in their quest for respect, for justice, for equal rights, for suffrage, for education, for their communities and always for their children. Persistent women like Rosa Parks, Susan B. Anthony, Malala Youfsazi, Marie Curie, Sojourner Truth in the face of violence, opposition, ridicule, belittlement, and fear, long after others would have given up or shut up, these women persisted.
No, persistent women are not new. They are the ones who call us out of our own agendas, who do not give up, who get right up in our faces and in our way to demand that we listen to them and hear their story.
Let me introduce you to one such woman whose persistence teaches us a lesson about how to respond to matters of life and death.
Hear now our second reading from the Gospel of Matthew chapter 15:21-28.
Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon.22Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.”23But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.”24He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”25But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.”26He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”27She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbsthat fall from their masters’ table.”28Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.”
I must confess that I wrestled with this text all week. Like any great story, this one has many layers and every one of them worthy of our study and examination. But in all my reading, in all my pondering, in all my living with this text, there was one thing I could never shake and that was the persistent presence of the Canaanite woman. She cannot be ignored. Thanks be to God! Today our eyes and hearts are upon her and what she can teach us about how we persist in matters of life and death.
So who is this woman? Matthew identifies her by her people group, a group that is best known for having been conquered in order for the promise to Abraham to be fulfilled. To the Jews who would have been Matthew’s audience, she was an idol-worshiper, a pagan, someone outside the circle of God’s chosen people. To the men of her time and by social and cultural standards, she was a subordinate - barely seen and certainly never heard.
And yet, here she is, coming out, shouting loudly – and you know what I see? I see and hear a desperate momma whose child is sick, who needs help now, who sees this as a matter of life or death.
When we believe that something is a life or death situation, we behave differently, don’t we? All the fears or worries we have about what might happen, what trouble we might get in, what punishment or threat we might face, all pale in the face of thing we must do. In those life and death moments, we break boundaries. She comes out from her house, comes out beyond the town, comes out into the presence of strangers, one of who she believes to be able to help her child.
Can you imagine her shouting? Can you hear inside your head that frantic, high-pitched shrieking of a mother whose child is dying, Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon.
Over and over again, she cries out. Closer and closer, she comes. And with every step, the volume grows.
Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David!
Silence.
It strikes me like a blow every time I read – he didn’t answer her at all.
Social awareness tells us that when someone doesn’t answer us, they are not interested. And if we continue to plead, adding volume to our tone, at some point we get the message and we stop trying. But in a matter of life and death, that is simply not an option.
Nevertheless, she persisted.
Again, she cries out and keeps crying out, so much so that the disciples beg Jesus to let them send her away because she’s making too much noise. They don’t want to hear that ruckus. They won’t have their quiet time of retreat disturbed. This is a nuisance to be dismissed, an irritation to be removed.
Nevertheless, she persisted.
Jesus finally seems to notice her, but says, she’s not one of the ones I am here for. An outsider, not one of us. And it feels as if this might be then end and yet, nevertheless she persisted.
Desperate that her pleading and shouting is failing,she falls before the one who she believes will save her child and simply says, help me. Even as she kneels before him in utter subjugation and he calls her a dog and tells her what he offers is not open to her.
Nevertheless, she persisted.
As she kneels before him, her eyes gaze up at Jesus. Poet Jan Richardson imagines this is what her eyes communicated in her poem “Stubborn Blessing.”
Don’t tell me no.
I have seen you
Feed the thousands,
Seen miracles spill
From your hands
Like water, like wine
Seen you with circles
And circles of crowds
Pressed around you
And not one soul
Turned away.
Don’t start with me.
I am saying
You can close the door
but I will keep on knocking.
You can go silent,
but I will keep on shouting.
You can tighten the circle
But I will trace a bigger one
Around you,
Around the life of my child
Who will tell you
No one surpasses a mother
For stubbornness.
I am saying
I know what you
can do with crumbs
and I am claiming mine,
every morsel and scrap
you have up your sleeve.
Unclench your hand,
your heart.
Let the scraps fall
Like manna,
Like mercy
For the life
Of my child,
the life of
the world.
Don’t you tell me no.
Don’t you tell me no.
The woman of Canaan demands that Jesus engage with her. Her persistence challenges his silence, his explanation – and he recognizes that her persistence faith. A faith that transforms him to see her for what she is – a member of God’s household, one to whom all of God’s goodness and healing mercy is open. For her and for her child, a place at the table. From that place, Jesus will pass along the Sea of Galilee where great crowds come to him for healings and whom he will feed by the thousands, including women and children. Persistence in matters of life and death leads to transformation.
Matters of life and death are facing us right now and we must be willing to follow the mother from Canaan. To be persistent. She shows us how.
Persistent people cross boundaries. Geographical, ethnic, gender, theological. They do not stay in the safe circle of what they know or where they are comfortable. Faced with circumstances that are life and death, the persistent ones courageously step into what is often hostile territory and unknown territory to call out for mercy for others who cannot speak for themselves.
Persistent people remain bold in very uncomfortable and dangerous circumstances, even when they are afraid. They get loud and louder so they cannot be ignored. They walk toward the ones who have maligned them and block their path. They ask for mercy from the very ones who have called them names.
Persistent people are not deterred. Not by social conventions of keeping quiet to maintain other people’s sense of order. Not by those who close the circle, lock the door, threaten to send them away or keep them from the table. They shout anyway, they break into the circle and they demand a place be made for them.
When it comes to saving what needs saving, being merely nice and pliant won’t win the day or the life. Sometimes we need to dig in our heels and do some hollering.
Elizabeth Warren saw a truth that needed to be proclaimed and she was warned – nevertheless, she persisted.
The Canaanite woman had a daughter that needed healing and she was given an explanation – nevertheless, she persisted.
Heather Heyer spoke out against hatred and injustice and she gave her life. Even in death, her message has persisted.
What about us?
We must persist too.
Persist in our resistance against racism, bigotry and xenophobia.
Persist in love.
Persist in praying for ourselves, our neighbors and especially our enemies.
Persist in confessing our complicity in a system of privilege and racism
Persist in turning toward those whose loud demands for justice and healing make us uncomfortable.
Persist in hope.
boldly, powerfully and relentlessly –
Let it be said of you and me, “Nevertheless, they persisted!”
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