20th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Isaiah 56:1, 6-7; Romans 11:13-15, 29-32; Matthew 15: 21-28

VIDEO

The story we hear today from Matthew’s Gospel
is also found in the Gospel of Mark,
where the woman is identified
simply as “Syro-Phonecian,”
that is, a Gentile or non-Jew.
But Matthew specifies that she is a Canaanite,
and so draws our attention
to that long and deep history of hatred.
between the Jews and the Canaanites.

The Canaanites were the people 
who occupied the land 
that God gave to the Israelites,
and it was only after long years of bloody conflict
that the Israelites had come to possess that land.
And even then the Canaanites remained
a constant threat to the purity 
of Israel’s exclusive devotion to their one God, 
tempting the Israelites to worship 
the many gods of Canaan.
Of course, from the Canaanite perspective
the Israelites were invaders 
who had taken their land 
and destroyed their cities
and killed their people.
Such hatreds do not die quiet deaths,

and centuries of uneasy coexistence
had not lessened the enmity between
Canaanites and Jews.

All of which makes it surprising
that this Canaanite woman
would not only ask for help
from a Jewish holy man,
but would cry out to him 
as “Son of David”—
David, the Israelite king 
who had taken the city of Jebus
from the Canaanites
and renamed it “Jerusalem,”
the City of David.
What must the name of their conqueror
have felt like in her mouth?
How bitter must it have tasted?
And what hope could she have had
that a Jewish title of honor
on the lips of a Canaanite
might sway this holy man to help her?
What desperation could have led her
to such a seemingly futile act of border-crossing,
to step out of her place as a Canaanite
and into the world of the hated Jews?

Well, as much as she might 
have hated the Jews, 
she also loved her daughter,
and her daughter was in trouble.
Her daughter was not simply in trouble,
but was tormented by a demon,
captive to an evil spiritual power
and beyond human help,
beyond even the help of the gods of Canaan.
Her mother’s love led this woman
to think impossible thoughts:
perhaps the God of her enemies
could do what her gods could not. 
Her mother’s love led her 
to an impossible place:
the borderline between her world
and the world of her hated enemies.
Her mother’s love led her
to an impossible action:
to step across that border
and speak the language of her enemy—
“Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David!”

The reception she received was really 
pretty much what a Canaanite might expect.
The holy man’s disciples 
asked him to send her away, 
back across the border 
she had crossed in her desperation.
The holy man himself said 
everything one might expect 
from one of the Canaanites’ ancient enemies.
His concern was not with her
but solely with his own people:
“I was sent only to the lost sheep
of the house of Israel.”
Precious resources should not 
be wasted on foreigners,
and particularly not on the hated Canaanites:
“It is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
Nothing he said gave hope
that anything she said
could break through the wall 
that separated their two peoples.

Yet her love for her daughter
pressed her forward in a desperate act of faith:
“Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps
that fall from the table of their masters.”
Perhaps, just perhaps, 
this man was not her enemy;
perhaps, just perhaps,
he could be her savior.
Impossible thoughts,
in an impossible place,
give birth to an impossible act:
an act of faith in the God of her enemies,
an act of faith in the God of Israel.
And he says to her impossible words: 
“O woman, great is your faith!
Let it be done for you as you wish.”

The Gospels are full of miracles:
feedings of multitudes and walking on water,
healings of the sick and the calming of storms—
impossible things that so dazzle us 
that we might miss the quiet miracle
of this woman led by God’s grace
across the border of ancient hatreds
into the unknown country of faith.
The desperate love for her daughter
that pushed her forward
was no mere natural love,
but was God’s grace already at work in her,
awakening what seemed an impossible faith.
This is the great work of God,
which tears down walls of hatred,
which crossed borders of enmity;
which conquers fear and unbelief.

This miracle is given to us as well.
God’s grace can lead us across borders 
of hatred, fear, and resentment;
God’s Spirit can reconcile us to God 
and with one another;
God’s love can bind us into one body,
living stones that together form 
a house of prayer for all peoples.
We too find mercy unmerited 
and healing undeserved. 
May God have pity on us and bless us;
may he let his face shine upon us,
and may God, who is merciful,
have mercy on us all.