Summary: A Mother's Day sermon to honor our mother's by looking at the divine disposition of a woman whom embodied the godly traits of a biblical mother.

What is a mom? Is she the one that gave birth to your life? Is she one who raised you with the warm embrace of her arms? Is she the woman who gives the all of life, so that yours could be prosperous and long? Many mothers are probably all theses, and many things more.

Moms are often masters of motivation and makers of memories. They are often the madams of the manor, the makers of meals, and more often than not, the maid of the mansion. She carries the motif of morality; she’s the mayor of mandates, and the magistrate over mayhem. She leads as a mentor of minors for the young who abide near her feet.

For many, moms are ministers of mercy, comforting their young with a spiritual milk of magnesia, for a mom’s soothing nature takes away pain and makes everything better. Still, on this day, what is a mom if not all that? For a woman with qualities like this, I think we’d all tip our hats and say, “WOW, what a MOM!”

Today, we’re going to honor our mothers by looking at the divine disposition of a woman whom I believe embodied the godly traits of a biblical mother. So… with that, please turn in your Bibles to the Gospel according to Matthew 15:21–28, and let’s look upon one of Jesus’ encounters with a most outstanding mother. Let’s read the Gospel story again.

SHE PUTS HER DAUGHTER’S NEEDS BEFORE HER OWN

Okay before we dig in; let’s consider this woman’s fright and sense of gloom. She gave birth to this darling little girl, who —for reasons untold —came under the possession of demon, not a sickness or anything this mother could make better. She probably felt helpless, lacking, and paralyzed — three traits no mother wants to fulfill. Yet, this was her condition: she was a mother who had to overcome mayhem by managing the possessed maiden within her home.

She lived a life that most of will never know. She mourned for her possessed daughter — a child that society most assuredly would rather leave for dead — one who was stricken with a thing for which there was no earthly cure. What could she do but hope and pray, that someday, somehow, her daughter —whom she loved with the full fabric of her being — would be healed of her hell-bound suffering.

With that picture painted, the first thing Matthew tells us is that Jesus and his disciples withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. But, why is it important for us to know this little tid-bit? On today’s map, this area is about 50-60 miles north of the Israeli and Lebanese border, in the region between the modern-day cities of Beirut and Tripoli.

Okay, the reason this mini-geography point is important, is for us to know that Jesus and his followers where a long way from home. They were traveling through a foreign country, whose people were not the sons of daughters of Israel that the Father had sent Jesus to first minster and save.

That little bit being out of the way, Jesus and the disciples are walking along, and out from who knows where, the mother we just heard about rushes onto the scene. Now she had to have heard something of this amazing Jesus: this minster of might who’d been sent from heaven above, and just happened to have been passing through. And it’s here in the ancient-Phoenician hillside that she encounters the master of miracles, the one she runs towards with hopes he’ll make everything all right.

As a loving mother would, she puts her daughter’s needs before her own. She risked it all by running to Jesus for comfort and aid. She put her livelihood in peril, and faced the real possibility for rejection, shunning and dismissal. For she was not a Jewish male, but considered something lesser: she was a woman, Canaanite, and a foreigner to these men.

Yet, she didn’t care about the cultural barriers that stood in her way. She ran to Jesus, despite her plight, and pleaded for mercy to the maker of life. Let’s look at her actions and words to see how she is one of the bible’s most outstanding mothers.

SHE CRIES WITH PLEAS OF FAITH

She cried out two short phrases to the master of miracles, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.” We can see this precise wording three times in Matthew’s Gospel account. The first instance is Matthew 9:27: the passage where Jesus healed two men: one blind and the other mute. The second occurrence is here within Matthew 15; and the last is located in Matthew 20:30 — where two blind who were sitting alongside the roadside cried-out to Jesus to be healed of their blindness, despite the shushing and the shunning of the crowds.

Here’s what’s significant about this. These pleas and cries for mercy came from the vulnerable. These were the culturally powerless, and the ones who hadn’t received societal compassion. Nevertheless, despite their peril, they screamed out to the one they believed was the maker of miracles. They cried with laments from the pit of their souls, seeking Jesus’ mercy and a heavenly miracle, and probably also the salvation of their souls.

What’s also neat in all this, is that the words spoken by this mother in distress, are the same we speak each Sunday, in both the Kyrie and our petitions and prayers. In the Greek, we hear her plea: “Kyrie Elaison”: which means: Lord have mercy. The Kyrie: it’s meant to be such a passionate plea. Yet, often Christians pray the Kyrie with somber monotony. Yet, for this amazing and nameless mother —her words were anything but solemn, somber, and without sensation. Her fervent cries stirred the senses, screamed in soreness, and sounded with the helplessness of a worrisome mother.

Hear her cries shrieked with the groaning from the soul. Lord, Son of David, Kyrie Elaison.” Her weeping resounded with the pain of a mother who could do nothing for her daughter, except plead with the minister of mercy — who only he himself could make her daughter all better. She intuitively knew that despite her role as a mom, that Jesus was the one and only who could heal her daughter with a heavenly gift from above. This takes us to the second phrase she in howled in her distress.

This mom recognized Jesus as the Sovereign Messiah, the one sent from heaven as the Son of God. This phrase “Son of David” was a distinctively, Jewish designation for the Messiah. However, his woman was not a Jew. She was one today we’d say is an unchurched heathen who’s probably never believed. Yet, her words testify to her belief. Her uttering, “Son of David,” would have been astonishing and unexpected. I bet her screaming this phrase was nothing short than a surprise to them all. Yet, despite this term of adoration and worship to the King of Kings, Jesus ignored her initial plea and simply kept walking on by.

SHE’S TENANCIOUS, AND DOESN’T TAKE “NO” FOR AN ANSWER

In the words of one scholar, “His silence seems deliberate and dramatic.” Maybe he wanted to test the faith of his disciples, and the mother pleading for help. The text doesn't directly say, but we can make an inference, because of what’s written next.

This mother’s actions, shouting, and endless pleading for mercy annoyed the disciples, like those in the crowds in Matthew 20 and the Pharisees in Chapter nine. After all, she was one they deemed of lesser stature: an alien woman they most assuredly presumed worshiped false gods. They might have considered her not worthy of Jesus’ ministry and time. And, in predictable fashion, they say unto him, “Send her away.” With that, let’s consider how Jesus responds, and her continual reply.

Jesus says — directing his attention to her — “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” It’s like what he was saying to her, “I was not sent for you at this time.” However — and big however at that —that’s NOT what Jesus was saying.” Instead, I believe through his words he was laying the foundation to test her resolve, faith, and the need to put her daughter’s life before her own. Let’s look to her actions, because she pleads her case with the magistrate of might. She enters into a dialogue, refusing to take NO for an answer, responding to Jesus at every turn.

She came and knelt before him. Again, we hear the Kyrie —the worship of adoration with the plea for mercy. She said, “Lord, help me!” Paraphrasing the lyrics of the ancient chant, she’s saying, Kyrie Elaison down this road that I must travel. Kyrie Elaison as I walk through the darkness of the night. Kyrie Elaison where you go, I will follow. And Kyrie Elaison, you are the highway of light.

To her Jesus responds, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.” To our American ears, His words seem harsh, likening her to house pet beneath our tables: like one not deserving of the heavenly banquet for which he was sent. But his words were not meant to insult, or to deny the heavenly gift. Rather, he intended to test her reliance and tenacity, and to see again how she would reply.

She replies, and allow me to paraphrase: “Lord, I know that my people have been likened to dogs. Still, do we not treat our dogs with respect, and toss them from our tables a mere morsel and scrap? Please Lord, Son of David, throw us a bone! Cast out my daughter’s demon and nourish her soul.”

Well — how could the maker of manna and the master of miracles deny this request? He answers with words that resound with “WOW, what a MOM!” What faith you have as a most outstanding mother? Because you are mother with faith-filled qualities like this, your daughter was healed at the moment of your request.”

In like manner I say, WOW a MOM. This most outstanding mother is a model for every Christian woman who has been blessed to fill the role of mom. I have to tell ya, If I didn’t have a mom such as this, I would be proud to call one like this great woman of faith: my mom.