As a friend and I traveled in Europe last fall, we did what any former divinity school students would do, we visited (just a few) churches. One thing that really bothered me was the number of them that required a paid ticket for entry. Yes, maintenance is a huge consideration, but it just felt icky thinking about paying for the opportunity to dance and delight in a house made to honor and glorify God. To me, it’s putting up a barrier where one doesn’t really need to be. 

I share this story because it’s what I thought about as I read our texts earlier this month. The Canaanite woman, marked by her exclusion of the nation, is deemed unworthy of approaching Jesus. In one of his less than prophetic moments, even Jesus calls her a dog! Nevertheless, she persisted. She demanded to be seen, heard, and treated like any other person seeking mercy and healing. In doing so, she not only challenged assumptions about inclusion and belonging, but she also illustrated a kind of collaborative ministry that we should all look more closely at. Seriously. She wasn’t arrogant, or rude, or disrespectful. She simply looked at Jesus and dared him to imagine that maybe he and his disciples were wrong. And Jesus was transformed by that. 

I wasn’t there, so I don’t really know what that moment looked or felt like to those who witnessed it. But a part of me feels rather confident that Jesus’ ministry was forever changed by this encounter, this holy confrontation. I think that because this story is an illustration of the inclusive dimensions of Jesus’ ministry. And it’s an invitation for us to consider what exclusionary ideas or practices we hold, perhaps unwittingly, that make it difficult for everyone, everyone, everyone to flourish. 

On Sunday, we’ll consider that and more during our time together. We’re springing forward this weekend, and I have to remind myself to be positive about that. We’re exchanging one hour of sleep for a season of more sunlight. 

If you haven’t been to church in a while, our Sundays are bustling with activity. Read below to check out our Sunday School hour groups before worship and opportunities for connection that follow worship. 

Finally, there is a secret to entering those old churches for free:  tell them you’re there to receive communion. And that’s the beginning of the story of how I ended up on my knees in Westminster Abbey, drinking from a common cup that was brought to each of our lips… 

See you Sunday,

Thomas

P.S. 

Now, a few weeks ago, I mentioned that the church has a “power problem” that we need to deal with. And then I promptly said “nobody wants to talk about this!! And I’m not going to today either.” I saw a few frowns and watched a few faces express disappointment. Fear not… we will get there by Easter.