Text: Matthew 15: 21-28
Things are not always as they first appear. When I did one of my many foolish or ugly things as a child, my mom or dad would discipline me. What that looked like to me was that they didn’t like me. At the time I resented it. But later I realized they disciplined me because they cared about be.
When a soldier goes into basic training, the Sergeant makes things very tough. It might seem he enjoys making your life miserable. But later you realize he was tearing you down as a civilian to build you up as a soldier. You could say the same with a tough teacher, or a demanding coach. Things are not always as they first appear.
A woman comes to our Lord with a terrible problem. Yet it seems that Jesus doesn’t care. It seems that the only reason she gets her way is that she wears him down. But things are not always as they might appear.
You see, Jesus knew her heart. He knew her faith. But his disciples did not. So he challenged her faith. He drew it out into the open. And in so doing:
Jesus Unveils a Great Faith
I. It humbly approaches the Lord
II. It refuses to despair
It was the third and final year of Jesus’ ministry. The cross was coming into view. Our Lord had to regularly contend with two problems. Religious leaders out to get him and people wanting him to be a king who would save them from Roman occupation. And news had just reached them that John the Baptist had been put to death. So here Matthew tells us, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. That was up north, away from Galilee, a Gentile area in Lebanon today. Jesus wanted to get away. In fact, Mark tells us that” He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it. (Mk7:24)
But that was not to be. Even there in that pagan land, Jesus’ reputation had traveled. And now Matthew says in the original. Behold. In other words, Look. Take note of this. A Canaanite woman comes to Jesus. Not a Jew, but a foreigner. Behold a woman who carried a faith in her heart that those proud religious men called Pharisees rejected. She comes to Jesus when many of the Jews would not.
Her humble faith comes across so clearly as she approaches Jesus. Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me. She calls him Lord, at the very least a title of respect. But also Son of David. She is confessing Jesus to be the promised Christ, the Messiah. How did she know? How did she believe? We can only say she did.
Have mercy on me, she says. What was she saying about herself? What was she admitting? She wasn’t coming like we might sit down at a restaurant table. Feeling she was entitled. No, she asks for mercy. Lord don’t treat me as I deserve. Treat me according to your unfailing love.
And put yourself in this woman’s shoes. She loved her daughter. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been there. She would do anything for her daughter. But now she was up against something she couldn’t handle. Thanks be to God we can only imagine what she witnessed in her home. Her daughter suffering terribly from demon possession. Helpless, she fell to her knees. She threw herself before the Lord and cried out, Lord, help me.
You know it seems to me that we can fool ourselves at times. That we are in control of our lives. I’m going to do this. I’m going to do that. Oh really! So every now and then something comes along that reminds us what is really the case. Something as simple as a flight delay or just a phone call. The trip is off. And sometimes life really throws us for a loop. You sit next to that hospital bed. An earthquake, a broken hip, a home foreclosure. Suddenly you and I are confronted with a strong dose of reality. And we realize what this woman knew in her heart of faith. We realize how helpless we really are. Lord, help me.
But there’s something else to this woman’s humble approach. She is asking our Lord for help and he says to her: It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs. The children were the Jews to whom the Messiah was to come. And the dogs? Of course it helps to know that Jesus did not use the word that described those wild mangy dogs that ran through the streets. The Jews used that word to describe the Gentiles. This was the pet dog fed by the children under the table. But even then what was the implication? An implication that might make someone rise up in indignation. But not here. She accepts Jesus’ humbling words. And as we soon see, she more than accepts them.
But this makes me think of something. The beginning of our service as we approach the Lord. Every week we come face to face with some humbling words ourselves, don’t we? I am altogether sinful from birth. I have sinned against you and do not deserve to be called your child. Sometimes I wince when I say those words. What we are we saying? I don’t even deserve to be under the Lord’s table, never mind at it. I don’t like to say that about myself. Yet Christian faith admits what we are on our own. We humbly approach our Lord.
Salimo Hachibamba is a former president of the Lutheran Church of Central Africa. He once told us this. When our Wisconsin Synod began mission work, a man came to visit our one of our mission churches. After the service he told the pastor he was not coming back. Why? The pastor asked. Because you stand when you pray. You see, in his culture, in his mind, to stand was being disrespectful. It was to say to God. I’m your equal.
But faith, a great faith in Jesus knows better than that. We know that on our own, we are guilty sinners who have no right to ask anything of God. Lord have mercy. Yet into these dirty, grimy sinful hands, the Lord has placed a wonderful gift. –his forgiveness purchased with the blood of his own Son. God our Father has had mercy upon us. . And now in Christ, God has given us this privilege. To ask, to seek, to knock. And it’s all about mercy. Well that’s how this woman came to Jesus. It becomes plain to see. A great faith that humbly sought his mercy. A great faith that refuses to despair.
How easy it would have been for this woman to despair of Jesus’ help. She sought Jesus out. She had heard of his merciful healings. She cried out for help. But then that silence which must have been deafening. There were no comforting words. No invitation to draw closer. Only silence.
We know that silence. Those times when our hearts are aching for God to answer our prayer, for God to act. But there is nothing. How did Job put it? I cry out to you O God, but you do not answer. (Job 30:20) It can be like starring down a very black hole. But here Jesus unveils a great faith. A faith that refuses to let go. A faith that refuses to despair.
For what does this dear mother then do. She cries after the disciples. And the disciples urge Jesus to send her away. In other words, why don’t you heal her so she stops bothering us. But how does Jesus respond? He says something which on the face of it seems to exclude this Canaanite. I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel. And that was true. The Messiah was to go first to his own people, the Jews. Only later would he send his apostles to all the world.
So why didn’t she give up? Was her need too great and her faith in Jesus too strong for her to give up now? It’s hard to say. Yet we can say this: She refused to throw up her hands in despair. Instead she threw herself at Jesus’ feet, Lord, help me.
But again how does Jesus answer? It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs. It almost seems that Jesus was kicking her while she was down. And if he was testing her faith, it seems like he was testing it beyond limits. But no. For Jesus knew her heart like he knows yours. He was not about to break her spirit. Instead he drew out her faith for his disciples to see.
And what did they see? She refused to despair. I think of Jacob here. Remember how he wrestled with God all through the night. I won’t let you go till you bless me. This woman reminds me of Jacob. She refused to give up because she trusted in the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus.
So what did she do? She held out for crumbs. She held out for the blessings she trusted were not just there for the Jewish people but for others as well, Gentiles, like you and me. And her faith was not disappointed. In his mercy, Jesus answered her prayer. She went home and found her daughter no longer convulsing from an evil spirit. How do you picture her? Maybe resting quietly on her bed or playing happily at home with her father. In any case, she was free.
Well you too can trust in that same grace and mercy. That same grace and mercy that would move the Son of God to bleed and die for you. That same grace and mercy that made you God’s child and gave you a hope like other. So that when you pray “deliver us from evil,” when you pray, Lord, help me, you can trust that Jesus will answer your prayers. And when that answer does not come right away, do not despair. He will answer in his own time and in his own way. The blessings will follow. And maybe not the ones we had in mind. Maybe not according to our timetable. But that answer will come from the one who knows our needs better than we do.
So this is a great faith. Jesus unveiled it for his disciples to see. But here I don’t want you to go home thinking—what a great person she was. For when it comes down to it what makes a great faith is this: When you listen to God’s Word, when you come to the Lord’s Supper, when you remember your baptism, when you look up to the cross and say in your heart. We have a great Lord and Savior. That’s what makes a faith great. Knowing Him. Amen.
Romans 15: 5,6
5 May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you a spirit of unity among yourselves as you follow Christ Jesus, 6 so that with one heart and mouth you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.