Matthew 15:21-28
Lent 2
✠ In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit ✠
The Canaanite woman comes to Jesus alone–no husband, no mother, no sister, no friend to be with her in making her plea. She comes all by herself to seek the Messiah’s help. You can imagine how that would have been a bit intimidating, to address such a rabbi in public. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” Some of you parents and grandparents have children or grandchildren who are in trouble or danger of one type or another, physically or spiritually, or both. You know the anxiety and the concern this woman had for her child and the passion of her prayers. She had probably consulted all the doctors and specialists. Jesus is her final and greatest hope.
Think of it that way. Imagine you had a child or grandchild who had a life-threatening disease, something that was going to be terminal. But there is a doctor who has developed a new procedure and treatment that could cure them. Imagine if you were somehow able to talk to this doctor in person and make your case and ask for help. You’d be passionate in pleading your cause and begging for him to pay attention to your need. It wouldn’t matter if you had to go to great lengths, and even to be embarrassed in the process. It would be worth it. This is how it is with the Canaanite woman. With boldness she prays and calls out to Jesus; and she does so with faith that He is the Messiah, for she refers to Him as “Lord” and “Son of David.” We might think that Jesus would be moved by such courageous prayer. “But,” it is written here, “(Jesus) answered her not a word.”
Where is her husband in all of this? What has her husband said? Has he been silent also? Does he blame her or the daughter for the demon oppression? Or does he blame himself? Is he ashamed of them; is he afraid? Where are the people who should be helping this woman?
Her first cries may have been bold, but it doesn’t seem to matter. She is quickly put in her place. Not only has she come alone, but the Lord also leaves her alone. He ignores her and answers not a word. He silently walks on by.
There is a fine but important line between temptation and testing, between last week’s Gospel and this week’s. When the devil tempts you, he is trying to lead you away from God. When the Lord tests you, he is strengthening you and drawing you closer to Himself. However, by outward appearances, it can be hard to see which is which. They feel the same. Even scarier is the temptation to believe that the Lord isn’t really good to you, that He’s moody and erratic in his character like us.
Notice that Jesus did not say “no” to the woman’s prayer. He knows her faith, better than she knows it herself. He knows what He is eventually going to do. But for the moment He is silent, and in His silence, trust in Jesus is tested and purified. Does she trust Him when He seems to ignore her? Do you trust Jesus when your prayers appear to be unheard and unanswered, when He seems to be turning His back on you and offering you no help at all?
Faith trusts not in what it sees or experiences. It clings to Christ alone. Faith clings to Jesus’ death and resurrection alone and not to whether or not God seems to be coming through for you at the moment. Even if God never responds to a single word of our prayers in this life, even if He reserves all of His “yes’s” for the resurrection from the dead on the last day, even if all we receive in this life is suffering and silence, faith says, “so be it.” We still have Christ and His kingdom and His forgiveness and His soon-to-be-fulfilled promises. We have God’s “yes” even when the silence seems to say “no.”
Jesus Himself would experience the silence of God the Father in his own ears. He prayed on the cross, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” And the Father was silent. Hell is the place where God is silent, where there is no Word from Him to give life or comfort. No one came forth to answer Jesus’ “why” question. Most of His friends and family had forsaken Him, too. There was only the terrible silence of God’s judgment against us, laid on Jesus. We too are given sometimes to hear the silence of God, not as punishment (since Christ endured that for us), but to stretch and strengthen our faith in Him who hung in silence for us.
The disciples seem to be bit uncomfortable about all this, though it’s unclear exactly why. Are they embarrassed by her because she keeps crying out and is a nuisance to their comfort, like a panhandler asking for money? Or are they embarrassed because our Lord is not acting in a way that seems proper to them? Are they confused by what appears to be His lack of compassion? Do they want Him to show His power, to prove that He is the Messiah and help her? Whatever it is, they intervene on her behalf, asking Him to do something to resolve the situation.
However, just because you have a lot of people praying for you doesn’t mean you’re necessarily more likely to get what you want. Prayer is about being conformed to God’s will, not God being conformed to your will. It is good for us to pray for one another; for that is a part of how we love one another and exercise our faith in Christ. But prayer is powerful not because of our praying but because of the One we are praying to.
Jesus responds to the disciples’ prayers, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” The woman had addressed Jesus with the faith of an Israelite; but she was still a Gentile, not part of God’s chosen people. Jesus won’t let her forget that. And yet, Jesus does not say that He won’t help this poor woman. He simply reminds her that He had come first to the Jews. Making disciples of all the Gentile nations would come after His death and resurrection.
This is the second way in which God tests and tries our faith in order to strengthen it. He acts as if we are rejected. He won’t let us forget that our own merits and qualifications and family lineage are not what give us a place in His kingdom. Christ teaches us to trust in nothing but Him– not our prayers, not the prayers of the pious and holy, or the saints in heaven, but only in Jesus.
Now she comes and falls down before Him, desperate and fully submissive, “Lord, help me!” It is the barest and yet most heartfelt prayer. And what does Jesus say in reply? “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the little dogs.”
Now that insult is softened a bit by His use of the diminutive word, “little.” Jesus might well have meant something like a lap dog, something like that which a trendy socialite would carry around in her purse, a support animal. But still, it’s an insult. Lacking the presence of her husband, it could actually be taken to mean something far worse: a dog who lets men use her for money. Who else has she thrown herself down in front of? How did this demon come into their lives in the first place?
Demons rarely come uninvited. We have to deal with them because with every sin, we dangle our fingers in shark-infested waters. The misuse of the internet can be a portal for demons. Willfully sinning and compromising what you know to be right can invite the powers of darkness. To harden your conscience to any sin, so that you can supposedly enjoy your sin and then repent later is to invite them in as well. There are no victimless crimes, no small sins without consequences. What do we think of people who don’t properly store their guns or dangerous chemicals in the presence of children? The same is true with spiritual dangers. Not only our own lives but also the lives of our daughters, our sons, our spouses, and our loved ones are at stake. Let us repent of our failings and seek the Lord’s mercy and protection from all evil.
The Canaanite woman is likely aware of how Jacob wrestled all night with God, as in the OT reading. She also knows her own unworthiness to demand things of God. And so she says, “Yes, Lord.” Yes, I am a dog. But then she shows not only a persistence as great as Jacob’s, but also a keener insight into God and His promises. No, she is not one of the children, but she does belong in the house. She doesn’t want the children’s bread anyway; she wants the Master’s bread, and that belongs to His pets as well as to His children. “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their Master’s table.” She is not a sheep of Israel or a child, but neither is she a pig or some wild animal. She belongs in the house. He is her Lord. Even an apparent insult is a precious Word of God to her, and by faith she holds Jesus to that Word. Like Jacob, she won’t let Him go until she receives a blessing. Jesus marvels at her faith and rewards it. Her daughter is healed.
The circumstances of the affliction or the location of her husband don’t matter. This woman needed a Savior, an advocate with the Father, someone who would send the demons away and provide the bread that gives life. She found all of that in Jesus of Nazareth. She held God to His promises even more fervently than Jacob. She contended with God and man in Christ and prevailed. Her faith was great because Jesus was everything for her. Faith is great that clings to a great Jesus. And He is indeed greater than the Law that separated Jew from Gentile, greater than the demon that possessed the Canaanite’s little girl, greater than your sin and your death.
God’s Law, of course, calls us something far worse than “dogs.” It calls us sinners, ones who have played with fire and danced with demons far too often. Let us acknowledge this. Repent and throw yourself upon the mercy of Christ with the Canaanite woman. “Yes, Lord, I am, a poor miserable sinner; but you came into the world to save sinners, and so I trust in You and will not turn my heart from You but will cling to You persistently for deliverance from Satan and sin, for full forgiveness and new life.” The Lord Jesus not only can save you, He has saved you. He was attacked by the powers of darkness for you and in your place to release you and set you free. You are the apple of His eye, His holy and beloved ones, His radiant and forgiven children. Trusting in Christ you don’t simply eat the crumbs that fall under the table, you have a place reserved for you at God’s table as His sons and daughters. Here is the cure to heal your soul and to send the demons away. Come, receive the Bread of Life at the table of the Master, His body and blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.
✠ In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit ✠
(With thanks to David Petersen and William Cwirla)