As the world shrinks, we hear terms associated with this phenomenon like “Melting Pot”, “Global Village” or “Clash of Civilisations” bandied about as if these experiences were something new. The encounter of Jesus is proof that “cultural or religious” differences are not something new. Even then, they were already possible sources of conflict. In fact, quite soon after Pentecost, the Council of Jerusalem [the 1st Ecumenical Council] was called to resolve the question of admission of the Gentiles into the Christian community. In today’s Gospel, Jesus ventured into foreign territory and was confronted by the unfamiliar. This encounter has universal significance because it touches on the topic of inclusion—a topic which is not unfamiliar with our experience. Who is to be included and who is to be excluded. Is salvation restricted by blood-line? What qualifies for “inclusion” or salvation?We know that Matthew’s Gospel was written for a Jewish audience. This meant that the interactions of Jesus with “outsiders” would be under closer scrutiny. Why? Because the Jews were somewhat jealous of their special status as a people of God and they viewed salvation in a more restricted way. But, through Jesus’ action, Matthew showed the Jews that the mission of Jesus to save was really a universal one. In this way, the encounter with the Canaanite woman was logical simply because before withdrawing to the region of Tyre and Sidon, Jesus had conflicted with the Pharisees on matters of dietary cleanliness. Dietary restrictions, something akin to the “halal or non-halal” labels, are a way of dividing people into “you are in and you are out”. The healing of the Canaanite woman’s daughter is one way of saying that even “dogs could eat off the crumbs of their master’s table”. In short, the action of Jesus tells us that no one is excluded from the kingdom of heaven. In this encounter with Jesus, the Canaanite woman effectively shifted the goal post of salvation (or inclusion) from being a Jew to anyone who has faith.
Anyone who has faith can eat at the table. Faith and not blood-line, not skin colour, not special “race” status, is the divide which places a person here and not there.
Thus, the faith of the Canaanite woman may have a thing or two to instruct us. Our experience of faith is somehow restricted to asking, demanding and expecting God to bend to our will. But, the Canaanite woman showed us that faith was perseverance; faith was persistence. She was rebuffed by Jesus not once but thrice. First, she came to beg from him but he replied her not. Then again, she begged and he answered, “I was sent to the lost of the House of Israel". Undeterred, she begged the third time but Jesus replied: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the house-dogs”.
At this point, one should have been totally turned off but she interpreted the rejection as a test from Jesus and proceeded to answer with calculated calmness that she should be allowed to enjoy the scraps from the table. In a sense, she showed that faith was hard work.
Today, the working of our mind is logical and it follows a rather simple linear trajectory. This simplicity is a by-product of a scientific technological rationality. You heat water at sea-level, it will boil at 100ºC and be converted into steam. In that way, we bring that mentality into our prayers and our expectations of God. Is it any wonder if our relationship with God is often construed along the line of a slot machine? I pray so you give just like I slot a coin into the vending machine and logically out comes a can of Coke.
This could explain why we give up on God especially on a silent God. We interpret a silent God as one who is uncaring, uninvolved and distant. As a result, we turn to Bomohs [Shamans or Witch-doctors]. We turn to some “charismatic” leaders who seem to be able to break through the wall of God’s silence. If not, we resent God and “punish” God by giving in to “destructive” addictions like gambling, excessive drinking or pornography etc.
The Canaanite woman’s perseverance teaches us that a silent God is perhaps one whose silence is an invitation to ask again. A silent God purifies our faith. A silent God strengthens our faith. A silent God may even make our faith heroic. Whenever prayers are not answered, I am reminded of this scratching on the wall in a concentration camp: I believe in the sun even when it is not shining. I believe in love even when not feeling it. I believe in God even when He is silent.
Some of us may be like the Canaanite woman. We have loved ones who are sick. Or even we ourselves may be ill with a life-threatening sickness. No one here can say that they have never known anyone who had died of cancer. Especially in cancers, we pray and God doesn’t seem to answer. I have come to believe that sometimes God does not answer our prayers not because our faith is weak or we haven’t done enough. On the contrary, God’s silence may be because He knows that our faith is strong, that He gives us what He knows we can carry.
You may ask how I have come to the conclusion that when God does not answer, it is not because our faith is weak or we haven’t done enough. First, I am 47 and I have a mother who’s been sick since I was 7. After praying for so long and hoping that as she ages, she would get better, au contraire, she has become worse. I can say, “OK, never mind. Life sucks and you can’t win all the time”. But, my elder brother has a daughter born with a congenital problem. She underwent an operation at 11 to repair her 2-chambered heart and ended up brain-damaged. “How much more wrong can things get”? Finally, my younger brother is a practising Catholic and a good man but his 2nd child is “slow”. He and his wife are struggling to come to terms with the reality.
One of my brothers asked this question once: Has our family been cursed by God? I thought long and hard and have come to the conclusion that our “misfortunes” have been God’s blessings for He has reckoned us strong enough to stand in the company of the Suffering Christ. I am not proud that I have come to this conclusion because it does mean that discipleship is so much harder, that I am resigned in a fatalistic way to suffering. And I do know of people who are suffering or in trouble. My attitude comes across as if I were uncaring.
Yet, sicknesses, misfortunes or setbacks are always invitations to deeper faith. In a sense, I am not happy but I am not unhappy about it. There’s a big difference between these two states that is liberating because it gives space for faith to grow and work—faith to accept that what cannot be put right, what is wrong, in this world will in Christ be made right in the life to come. The Canaanite woman challenges us who are privileged by baptism to deepen our faith in God beyond just asking, expecting and demanding. Faith means completely allowing God to take control of every aspect of our lives.
