The Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
A Canaanite woman of that district came and called out,
"Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David!
My daughter is tormented by a demon."
But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her.
—Matthew 15:22-23a
The story of Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite Woman that we hear this Sunday is one of the most challenging episodes we find in the gospels. It challenges us because it not only presents Jesus as espousing the cultural prejudices of his time and place, but it also confronts our ideas about who should be “in” or “out” of Kingdom of Heaven.
In this passage, Jesus has traveled to the Gentile (non-Jewish) region of Tyre and Sidon (on the coast of Lebanon). John the Baptist has been murdered by King Herod (Matthew 14:1-12) and Jesus is now on Herod’s radar. And so, he goes to a place outside of Herod’s jurisdiction where people wouldn’t know him. While there, he’s recognized by a Canaanite woman, who comes to him begging him to heal her daughter. The fact that the nameless woman is identified as a Canaanite is important. As Scripture scholar Diane Bergant, CSA, observes, the designation “Canaanite” was no longer really used at the time when Matthew wrote his gospel. And yet, the name is important because:
It calls to mind the people who occupied the land before the Israelites took control of it. Throughout the entire history of ancient Israel the Canaanites were one of the primary enemies of the Israelites. Not only did this woman’s residence in pagan territory make her unclean, but she was a member of one of the nations ancient Israel had hated the most. Finally, she was an unattended woman. This in itself constituted her as a threat to Jesus’ respectability.
This detail gives an important insight into what was at stake when the woman cried out Kyrie eleison—Have mercy on me, Lord. But we can also gain a fuller of understanding of Jesus’ unusual—even hostile—response.
When others have called out to Jesus and asked for mercy, he has acted quickly and decisively, offering healing and wholeness (cf. Matthew 9:27; 17:15; 20:30-31). In this encounter, however, we find Jesus ignoring someone who is asking for help. It’s an uncomfortable situation and Matthew tells us that the disciples even want him to send the woman away. After all, isn’t she just making a nuisance of herself as she continues to call out, refusing to allow Jesus to ignore her? But when we look at her motives, we recognize that she was simply being a good mother, seeking only what is best for her sick child.
However, when she calls out again, Jesus responds with an insult: “It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” Although some preachers and teachers have tried to sanitize this response over the years by highlighting cultural and historical nuances, it’s still an insult. And yet, the woman remains undeterred and even turns Jesus’ own words against him: “Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters” (15:27).
Ultimately, this encounter causes something to shift within Jesus. The woman’s faith and her belief that he can do this thing for her child touches him and, as Barbara Reid, OP, has reflected, “The woman stretches him to see her not as ‘other,’ or as ‘enemy,’ but as one of his own, one with whom he shares a common humanity, a common faith in God, a common desire for the well-being of children” (from Abiding Word). From this moment on, Jesus recognizes that his mission is for the entire world and not just for the “children of Israel.”
As unlikely as it may seem, this encounter marks pivotal moment in the story of our salvation, in large part because it opened up a space for us within the community of believers.
One of the realities that we are invited to reflect on this Sunday as that, in important ways, we are like the Canaanite woman. We live lives that are foreign—literally and figuratively—to those who were part of that first group of disciples. This means that, like the woman, we would also have been considered as little more than dogs at the master’s table, because we are the “them” to the “us” of Jesus and his followers. Like the woman, we are also outsiders who wouldn’t fit into the exclusive categories that would have been acceptable to the “us” of Jesus’ disciples.
There is a two-fold lesson here. First, we must be aware of how others are excluded from the life of the Church. Sadly, we don’t have to look very far to find an “us/them,” or “saint versus sinner” mindset in our church communities, or a sense that some of us enjoy certain blessings from God that exclude everyone else. Pope Francis directly addressed this temptation in his reflection during the Welcome Ceremony of the recent World Youth Day in Lisbon, Portugal:
We, his Church, are the community of those who are called: not of people who are better than others – no, absolutely not–but of sinners, called as such. Let us think seriously for a moment about that: we are called as we are, with our problems and limitations, our overflowing joy, our desire to be better and to get ahead in this world. We are called as we are…
In the Church, there is room for everyone. Everyone. In the Church, no one is left out or left over. There is room for everyone. Just the way we are. Everyone. Jesus says this clearly. When he sends the apostles to invite people to the banquet which a man had prepared, he tells them: “Go out and bring in everyone”, young and old, healthy and infirm, righteous and sinners. Todos, todos, todos! Everyone, everyone, everyone! In the Church there is room for everyone.
Despite this vision of universality and inclusion, prejudices and preferences exist within our faith communities. As we look around our churches, at our councils and ministries, do we see
women and men of diverse cultures and ethnicities,
children and young adults,
those of different socio-economic status (meaning both the poor and the affluent),
people who are divorced or remarried, as well as single people,
individuals who are living with mental illness, physical disabilities, or who are neurodivergent,
LGBTQ persons,
those with a “history,”
or people with different theologies or political views?
If we discover certain prejudices and preferences within our communities or our own hearts, then we have to ask ourselves “Why?”.
Surely, we can’t believe that it is somehow our place to protect God or the integrity of the Gospel from the very people whom God created in love!
Second, we have to be willing to accept that this story of Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman has consequences for how we engage the broader culture. There is no possibility of our divorcing our faith and prayer from the realities of the world around us, because we have to exercise our faith as we fulfill our civic duties. We have to risk the criticism, judgment, and possibility of change that can occur when we speak out, in faith, for the rights of the poor, the exploited, the sick, refugees and migrants, and all those others who live on the margins of our society.
Centuries before Christ, the Prophet Isaiah shared God’s vision that the Lord’s house would become “a house of prayer for all peoples” (56:7). We find this vision realized in the life and mission of Jesus whose entire life and mission were oriented toward others and, as we see in this Sunday’s Gospel, excluded no one:
“What comes from God does not discriminate, qualify or limit, it overflows freely from his bounty. Here is no philosophical system, no complicated ascetic doctrine, but the fullness of God’s love, that divine audacity with which the Creator gives himself to his creatures, demanding their hearts in return. Everything for everything; we cannot but admit the truth of this—and in so doing pronounce our own judgment. For are we any better than those others?”
-Romano Guardini in The Lord
O God, who have prepared for those who love you
good things which no eye can see,
fill our hearts, we pray, with the warmth of your love,
so that, loving you in all things and above all things,
we may attain your promises,
which surpass every human desire.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever. Amen.
-Collect for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time