Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
GOSPEL: Matthew 15:21-28
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Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini broadcast on Vatican Radio
GOSPEL: Matthew 15:21-28
Jesus left Genesaret and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. Then out came a Canaanite woman from that district and started shouting,
‘Sir, Son of David, take pity on me. My daughter is tormented by a devil.‘
But he answered her not a word. And his disciples went and pleaded with him.
‘Give her what she wants,’ they said ‘because she is shouting after us.’
He said in reply, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel’.
But the woman had come up and was kneeling at his feet. ‘Lord,’ she said ‘help me.’
He replied, ‘It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the house-dogs’.
She retorted, ‘Ah yes, sir; but even house-dogs can eat the scraps that fall from their master’s table’.
Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, you have great faith. Let your wish be granted.’
And from that moment her daughter was well again.
The Gospel of the Lord. Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
1. Why is Jesus so tough with the Canaanite woman? The pagan culture at the time of the early Church needed to be abandoned in order to receive the newness of the Holy Spirit.
In this Sunday's Gospel, we encounter a portrayal of Jesus that is devoid of sentimentality and kindness. Instead, he appears stern and somewhat distant. Interestingly, the disciples come across as more compassionate than he does. A distressed mother approaches, seeking his assistance, yet Jesus doesn't even address her with a word. The disciples urge him to listen to her plea, and Jesus responds with a statement that cuts sharply: "It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." But why does Jesus adopt this demeanour? What's behind his toughness? It's crucial to remember that the early church was evangelising in a world that took pride in its pagan culture. It might have been tempting for the pagans to believe that their beliefs weren’t so different from the beliefs of Christianity. This, however, isn’t the case. The Redemption brought by Christ demands baptism, the abandonment of the old self for love, in order to receive the newness that only the Holy Spirit can provide. Entering this new nature isn't about repairing human nature; it's about renouncing the devil, the world, and the flesh.
2. By acknowledging her own poverty, the woman opens the door to grace.
The text of this Sunday recounts the Faith of a Canaanite woman who boldly acknowledges her own poverty. She disassociates herself from her Pagan background and displays an act of humility that opens the doors to grace, suddenly bestowed upon her by Christ. She acknowledges her unworthiness and embraces her foreign status, referring to herself as a "gentile," a term that carries a sense of being Pagan in the Hebrew tradition. This is the path to grace—through recognizing our own poverty. Those who have learned to be merciful are able to recall the day they saw themselves as dogs, as undeserving human beings. Notably, even figures like Peter and Paul went through this, admitting to their betrayals and wrongdoings. This Canaanite woman humbly requests a scrap she knows she doesn't merit. And she is well aware of this fact. And that's the essence of it. The most profound faith resides in the humblest of hearts. By practising the art of remembering the times when we felt like dogs, we can contemplate God's patience with us and find many reasons to exercise patience with others, as we too were loved without deserving it. This constitutes the highest form of faith. The greatest faith finds its home in the tiniest and most unpretentious of hearts. This woman stands before Jesus' seemingly stern demeanour. Often, God appears tough with us, seemingly uttering a "no." However, these refusals are invitations to adopt a more mature perspective, fostering growth.
3. An educator doesn’t just reward but also admonishes. The journey to faith for this woman begins with Jesus’ “no”.
An educator doesn't solely rely on rewards; they also offer guidance and know when to refuse, set limits, and provide boundaries. If we, as parents, only ever indulge our children's requests, we become ineffective parents, and our children remain immature. Here, Jesus reveals himself to this woman as a guide, leading her to a truth—her own poverty. If we want to have profound faith, we must first recognise our own poverty. The reward will eventually come, and indeed, great faith will transpire. However, the journey to this great faith begins with accepting Jesus' initial "no." There are times when we need to learn how to pray. Beyond God's apparent deafness, beyond the outward sense of detachment that God might exhibit, we ask for things and it seems that God is responding with a "No," asserting that we don't deserve them and won't receive them. Yet, we must persist in asking, because God wants us to truly engage with the questions we pose. Let's not be individuals who merely recite prayers mechanically, as is often the case with formal prayers. We may ask for things, but our hearts might be distant from the very things we seek. Frequently, a "no" becomes the path that leads to a truer question, with God’s denial prompting us to ponder whether we genuinely desire what we’re asking for. This is the faith we're summoned to embrace, the faith that the early church had to encounter while evangelising among the Pagans.
4. Embracing the faith is not just a sprinkle of holy water. It involves purification and trials. This Gospel contains the entirety of Christian initiation, the necessity of acknowledging one’s poverty and need of grace
Back in the first century, there existed many Hellenists, who took pride in their magnificent and illustrious culture. They might have believed that Christianity was merely an adaptation of their philosophy. Unfortunately, a similar misconception prevails today. Often, we assume that embracing someone in faith merely involves a sprinkle of holy water and a baptism. Yet, baptism signifies a process of dying and rising, a journey of purification that often involves many trials. We should recognize that within these few lines of the Gospel lies the entirety of Christian initiation, the complete process of acknowledging the old self, recognizing oneself as less than human, akin to dogs, and the necessity of being rescued by grace, by God's generosity, to enter a new nature—the nature of full and complete humanity, the nature revealed to us through Christ.
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