The Canaanite woman who approached Christ, begging Him to heal her demon-possessed daughter, was a Gentile. At that time, the Jews-the only people who believed in the One God-did not associate with Gentiles; they kept away from them and shunned them. Yet this woman comes up to Christ, and this alone shows that she saw something in Him that she had not seen in others. She sensed something in Him-with intuition, with her heart, she caught something that inspired trust in her and cast away her fear of being driven away.
And she addressed Him with the very words we find in the Gospel of Mark on the lips of blind Bartimaeus: “Jesus, Son of David!” This was already a confession of faith-not yet in Christ as the Son of God, of course, but in Christ as the One born of the royal line of David, from which the Savior of the world was to come: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on my daughter! She is severely possessed…”
Yet Christ continues on His way in silence, not responding to her cry. Then the disciples turn to Him: “Send her away, for she is following behind us, as if pursuing us with this cry of hope and despair…” “Send her away” does not mean “drive her off”; it means: “Will You not have mercy on her? Is she not a human being too? Must we shun such people? Is human suffering among Gentiles any less terrible or agonizing than among us? Let her go in peace…”
And Christ says: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But the Canaanite woman replies: “Lord, help me…” She does not dispute His remark that He was not sent to her; she simply believes that He will take pity on her. She does not argue; she does not insist, “How can that be? I am a human being too!” No – she simply believes.
And Christ tests her faith once more. He knew this faith, of course, and the Canaanite woman likely sensed His discernment as well; but the disciples, perhaps, needed to measure the depth of faith of which a Gentile is capable. He tells her: “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” These words sound so harsh, so unmerciful. It seems to me they can only be understood if we picture the Savior looking down – with an attentive, thoughtful, compassionate gaze-into the raised eyes of this woman. She heard these words, just as she had heard other harsh words before; but as she heard them, she simultaneously saw the face of Divine Love turned toward her. And so she replies, as if with a faint smile: “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table!” One can say this only from the depths of faith and from the inner realization that harsh words do not come from a hardened heart.
And here, as in other instances, the Savior responds to faith with love and with His power to heal, have mercy, and save: “O woman, great is your faith! Let it be to you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed from that very hour. Here we see once again that there is no limit, no boundary to God’s compassion, that He does not divide people into believers and unbelievers, insiders and outsiders. To Him, there are no strangers-all are His own. Yet at the same time, He expects and demands of us not credulity, but true faith, the labor of faith: a readiness to trust God completely, a readiness to break through to God with a cry, a plea, and unwavering faith. And this is what we must learn from the Canaanite woman. Amen.
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