Welcome to the commons cast. We're glad to have you here. We hope you find something meaningful in our teaching this week. Head to comm.church for more information.

We are starting the year with a series called tell me more, and it's all about curiosity. As Jeremy said last week, we're interested in the hard work of getting to know each other. And last week, we talked about getting to know each other across divides. And we all know the division that marks the world that we live in and the world that we participate in making. We know this division in our families.

We know it in our politics. We know it in our own bodies. We know division in, of course, all the social media spaces and the distance we sometimes feel from each other and in the experience of so many extremes and much polarization. And I loved this idea from last week that in embracing incarnation, God embraces transformation and growth. So Jesus faced something of the unknown and remained open and even affected by what came along.

And what this means for us, as Jeremy said last week, is that the discomfort of our growth is sacred. Maybe our growth, held with a little more curiosity, could even help heal the world a little and draw us together. So today, we're going to talk about just how hard and how rewarding that co creative curiosity can be. But first, let us pray together. Loving God, we take just a moment to quiet ourselves, to breathe in and out, and to feel the sensation of our God given body in this place.

We narrow in on the feeling of being connected to the world through our feet on the ground, our legs resting as we sit, and our breath in our chest. And as our minds wander as they do, we come back to these sensations of being and breathing. Christ as a light illumine and guide us as we explore with curiosity or connections with each other, especially when these connections are tricky and tangled and even tiresome. Spirit, may the peace of all peace be ours today. Amen.

So today we tackle two pieces of dialogue. One is Matthew fifteen twenty one to 28, the story of a Canaanite woman with a daughter who is unwell. And the second is Matthew sixteen thirteen to 20. It's a revelatory conversation between Jesus and Peter. And we're gonna talk about conflict and curiosity, untidy conversations, a bigger vision of you, and trust.

But before we get to these dialogues in scripture, me ask you some questions. For your reflection, what is the most historical memory you have of conflict? Like, what goes way back for you? It's probably something in your family, maybe a big fight with siblings or parents. Do you laugh about it now, or does it still bum you out?

And don't go too far down that road. Just notice that the memory is there. Now, in the present, what conflict or tension is maybe waving at you to get your attention? Is it misunderstanding with a friend? Is it needs that aren't being met in your partnership?

And again, just point that out for yourself. And finally, what tension or fight or argument actually left you a better person? Maybe it's from something professional. Maybe you found your voice when you were externally processing a tough situation. And again, I just want you to notice those things because we all bring a lot with us to a conversation like this.

Now, it's a little strange. It feels a little strange for me anyways to stand up here and tell you about a time when conflict made me a better person. It's a little revealing. It feels a little vulnerable. Because of course, I didn't do everything right in all of those times.

As well, I am committed, very committed, to not telling other people's stories in a way that betrays their experience or confidentiality. But let me say, after twenty three years in pastoral ministry, I have had two instances of conflict in churches I worked at where I had to navigate very tricky church politics. If you know, you know. And honestly, I don't think that's a bad record. In one situation, I am so proud of how I handled myself in a conflict, but it was rough and I was very young.

And in the second, the relationships were harder and the experience was more disorienting, but it gave me tools for conflict that I did not know I was missing. I learned this basic thing I needed to know, which was how to stay calm enough to be curious, which is the opposite of defensiveness. And in the process, I learned that it was actually a simple misunderstanding which shaped a very jagged conflict as well as needs that were unnamed. So the Bobby you see up here had things to learn and conflict was my teacher. The gospel stories we read today are these confessional scenes, meaning that in the back and forth of the conversation, someone declares who Jesus is to them.

And in these moments, at least for a moment, there's this crystal clear clarity about the divine. Now the important thing to notice is that around these conversations there is direct conflict. In chapter 14 of Matthew, John the Baptist is beheaded for speaking truth to power and being used as a political ploy. And in chapter 15, religious leaders corner Jesus and about the rules he allegedly breaks. And they insist Jesus show a sign to prove that he has this kind of heavenly authority.

So there's conflict and confession. For many of us, it can feel like we're doing something wrong when we face conflict. But what if one of the best routes to clarity is conflict. And I'm not saying that we need to go all John the Baptist here, please keep your head. But in every story of change and transformation and challenge, there is a little bit of conflict, there's tension, there's friction, and that's not all bad.

So in Matthew 15, Jesus travels to a district known for being Gentile. And we don't know if he crosses the border into Tyre and Sidon. The text is unclear. Either way, Jesus is in a bit of a borderland. And along comes this Canaanite woman from the region.

And there is nothing subtle about this woman. As she approaches Jesus she shouts, have mercy on me Lord, son of David, my daughter is tormented by a demon. Now you'd think that her cry would tug at Jesus' heartstrings, but you know what he does with her desperation? Nothing. At first, he ignores her.

The text says with his silence. And eventually, the disciples say to him, send her away. She's so noisy. She keeps shouting. Picking up in verse 24, Jesus answered, I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.

The woman came and knelt before him. Lord, help me, she said. He replied, it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs. Yes, it is, Lord, she said. Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table.

Then Jesus said to her, woman, you have great faith. Your request is granted. And her daughter was healed that very moment. Now many of us are trained to see a picture of Jesus that is complete. He's always compassionate.

He's always right. Full stop. But this story challenges that. It's uncomfortable. The conversation is untidy.

So let's just stay with it. For one thing, the writer wants us to see that this woman is a member of a historical group that for Israel was the enemy. Canaanites were a threat and they were meant to be defeated. So this woman enters the scene from the wrong side. And even though she accommodates Jesus with the language of Israel, Jesus gives the impression that he wants nothing to do with her, even going as far as to use a term that could be construed as an insult.

And to be fair, this derogatory dog reference was used to speak of gentiles more broadly, but still Jesus seems to smear her with it. This woman, being the first woman to speak in Matthew's gospel, is ready for the fight with this clever retort. Sure. Fine. She says, I'm only a dog, but even dogs eat the scraps from the floor.

I think there's so much surprise and boldness here that Jesus laughs out loud and we hear that lightness as he joins the woman on her side of this divide. Wow. I imagine him saying, look at you. Your faith is so dazzling. Your daughter who had this tormented inner life this very minute, she's healed.

So you have to wonder, is Jesus changing his mind here? Is he illustrating his openness to the disciples? Is he learning what this Canaanite woman can teach him? Regardless of how we frame the encounter, Jesus is widening the story of God for everyone who will follow. And I wonder if we'd even get to the great commission at the close of this gospel if this shady lady hadn't have stood her ground and challenged Jesus to see the world her way.

And by the way, you can call me a shady lady anytime. Just look at me. I'm my raucous animal prince. Don't call me that. But more to the point, what if Jesus' worldwide compassion wouldn't be fully realized without one Canaanite woman screaming out to him on the street?

The gift this woman gives Jesus and all of us is the revelation that a robust moral imagination demands personal change. So if we are too scared or too insecure or too dogmatic to stay in untidy conversations until we have learned a lesson and maybe grown up a little, then I'm afraid that we will miss out on the liberation waiting for all of us in the ever expanding embrace of God. Now there is a second conversation to listen in on today. Matthew 16 beginning in verse 13. When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, who do people say the son of man is?

They replied, some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets. But what about you? He asked. Who do you say I am? Simon Peter answered, you are the Messiah, the son of the living God.

And then Jesus does this thing. He just blesses Peter. He's like, yes. These are the words I wanna hear from you. And they're inspired words.

Thank you, Peter. You are a rock. The location of this little chitchat is significant. Caesarea Philippi was a place of many identities. The city was rebuilt and renamed by Herod's son, Philip the tetrarch, to both honor him and his father.

The city's name literally means the Caesar City Of Philip. Interestingly, this place is not a place Jewish people lived. So again, Jesus steps outside, a cultural comfort zone. And all around the region, there are these temples to ancient gods. There's this towering effigy to Caesar, and there was even this cave up on a hill imbued with meaning.

It was believed to be the birthplace of Pan, the god of nature. But still, this place does have meaning for pious Jewish people. Josephus, the Jewish historian, wrote that in the cave in a deep cavern arose the springs of the Jordan River. So in these swirling identities, stories of gods and sacred waters, maybe it's not surprising that the conversation Jesus has with his friends is all about identity. After all, we don't know ourselves in isolation.

Our identity is shaped and revealed in particular contexts, in comparisons, and in all of our entanglements. So let's take a closer look at the question, who do you say I am? Some people interpret the conversation to say that Jesus is kind of luring Peter into the answer that he wants Peter to give. Like I know who I am. I just need to know that you know who I am.

And that's fine. Only I prefer to take the question at its word. I prefer to believe that Jesus actually wants to know what Peter thinks. And we see a nod to this interpretation in the way Matthew uses an emphatic you. With the living historical present tense, Jesus is saying, you.

Yeah. You. I wanna know what you think. You're my friend. And there are temples and towers and myths of meaning everywhere.

And the crowds, they all have an opinion of me. But Peter, tell me, please, who do you say I am? And from what we've seen in the last chapter, I think Jesus is still very much coming into his identity of being not just a prophet like the crowds believe, but the Christ, the one in whom divine presence fully dwells. So when Peter says you're, you're it. You are all meaning.

You are the true child of the living God. I think in this moment too Jesus kind of stumbles back a little. Like finally someone he trusts names for him the truth that he is beginning to feel more and more sure of. I think Jesus thinks, yeah, I am. So what's in this story for you?

I think, at least in part, we get an inspiring picture of friendship here. It's a moment when one friend has a bigger vision for the other. It's a moment when you aren't so sure of who you're meant to be, but then someone puts words to your identity and you know something of the truth inside of you. It's a moment when an old friend says, yeah, this is going to be hard, but I have no doubt that you can do this. You are, after all, you.

Now I have these clear memories of conversations like this in my life. I treasure them so much. Where a little bit of dialogue, just a few sentences, really, between me and a friend or a mentor from a time or even some men I was trying to date, where these conversations offered me an opportunity to change, and they changed my choices going forward. So I remember talking with Tim about my academic journey, and Tara about my voice as a preacher, and Luann about being true to some sort of sense of calling, and Frank about imagining a better fit for my future, and Ali about me staying on the path of my MDiv when I had so many questions, and Maggie about waking up to the love that was standing right in front of me in Jonathan. What was so powerful and almost mystical about these conversations is that they named the truth that was already living in me, but I was just having a hard time believing.

In times of confusion and doubt, I need people to tell me something true about who I am and I think you need that too. You need to know that you're smart and you're trustworthy and you're capable. You need to know that you can do the work and you are worthy of the opportunity and love really won't pass you by forever. And maybe you're waiting for God to tell you all that, but I believe God puts these truth pearls in relationships so that we can find them there in intimacy and trust. Martin Buber wrote, all real living is meeting, and I love that.

We are most alive when we are communing and revealing deep truths to each other. So we've talked about conversations and conflict today, and I wanna be clear. The kind of conflict I'm asking you to turn toward isn't the kind that will knock you down flat or make you feel small or leave a permanent scar in your life. It's not abusive, it is not violent, and it's not manipulative. I'm talking about the kind of conflict that will sharpen you and reveal truth to you and offer just enough tension that you aren't exactly comfortable, but you're safe.

So let's just wrap up with some thoughts on trust. A book that has helped me immensely in the last few years is called Say What You Mean, A Mindful Approach to Nonviolent Communication. And in it, the author, Orin J. Sofer, talks about trust in conversations like this. True dialogue is more than a mere exchange of ideas.

It is a transformative process based on trust and mutual respect in which we come to see another in new and more accurate ways. It's this idea that conversation is a way of knowing what is true and it's not something we control, it's something we engage. So what if this year we welcome, my word for the year, what if we welcome more trust in our interpersonal relationships? Trust in the process, trust in the best in each other, trust that what needs to soften in us will soften? Why don't we make it our intention to trust the questions and to trust in the unknown dimensions of our being and to trust in the instinct we all have for healing and wholeness.

So let us trust our bodies and trust our breath to calm and alert us. Let us trust a good community we can give ourselves to. But here's the thing, I am convinced that trust is quiet work. At the end of the conversation with Peter, after Jesus blesses sweet Pete's bigger vision for who Jesus is, Jesus tells his disciples to keep it all quiet. In verse 20, he says it says that Jesus ordered his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

It's like he says, keep this treasure close because everyone will know who I am soon enough. So if you're having trouble with trust, get to the bottom of that. We need you to show up in your life with an open heart, to risk being acquainted with the real contours of love, which includes conflict that can get messy and conversations that are hard. But please, please show up anyway. Do it for yourself.

Do it for the precious ones in your life and with the spirit who only ever wants to know what you think of God anyway. Let us pray. Loving God, We take a moment in the quiet of our hearts to reflect on something that stands out to us today. Maybe there's some memories or presence of conflict that we simply need to cultivate some awareness of. Maybe there are some untidy conversations that we can turn toward and grow from.

Maybe there's some space for us to welcome a bigger vision of ourselves or those we love. Christ of conversations, big and small, inspire us to step into friendship and relationships that make secure the bonds of peace. The spirit of the living God present with us now, Enter the places of unrest or disturbance and heal us of all that harms us. Amen.