Reminiscere 2024
Flabbergasted are the disciples at the way Jesus is behaving. This woman wants help. She keeps on crying out, yet He answers her not a word. How can Jesus be so cruel? “Send her away!” the disciples say to Jesus. They don’t mean, “Get rid of her”; the words mean, “Release her!” In other words, “Help her! Answer her prayer.”
But He doesn’t. Isn’t that about what we expect, if we bother to pray? Nothing seems to come of it.
Why doesn’t Jesus answer this woman right away? If He had answered her immediately, she would not have learned endurance. And we would have no example of endurance. Or patience. Or humility.
We would end up like Veruca Salt (the Roald Dahl character, not the band). “Veruca Salt, the little brute, has just gone down the garbage chute…. Who turned her into such a brat? Who was the culprit, who did that?” It’s dear old mum and loving dad. Whatever she wants, she gets; and it ruins her.
But this Canaanite woman is no Veruca Salt. She asks Jesus for mercy for her daughter, but she makes no claims to worthiness. She says, in effect, that she is worthy of the garbage chute. She does not bargain, she does not boast, she makes no promises. She is willing to become nothing.
What are you willing to become? What are you willing to become, to have your prayers answered? And here’s a more elemental question: For what are you praying? Are you praying at all?
The Canaanite woman is praying the final petition of the Lord’s Prayer: “Deliver us from evil,” which also means, “Deliver us from the evil one,” i.e., the devil. Sometimes the demons work in terrifying, overtly supernatural ways. Most demonic work is done, however, through ordinary assault on human life, and assaults on the teaching, unity, and harmony of the church. The evil one hates human life. This leads to assaulting human souls and bodies. Every demonic work has the aim of turning turn us away from God. Pride turns us away from God. Despair turns us away from God.
But what do we see in the Canaanite woman? She is not proud, and she does not despair. She prays. She prays, “Deliver us from evil” for herself and for her daughter. When Jesus is silent, she does not despair. When He seems to insult her, she is not proud.
Her prayer abandons protocol. Because prayer doesn’t depend on just the right wording.
She is insistent. She is consistent. She is persistent.
Gone is decorum. Gone is concern for image and reputation. She only knows her need, and she shouts it: “Have mercy!”
She knows who can answer her prayer. And unlike us, she knows who will answer her prayer. So if she has to cry out all the day long, she will. And if the Lord does not hear, if He does not answer, then throughout the night she will continue to cry, and not be silent, until He answers.
That persists even when the Lord calls her a dog. “It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the little dogs.” “True, Lord! But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” It is as though she is saying, “Call me what You will, Lord – for it is all true. But it does not matter who I am. It does not matter what I am. It only matters who You are. I believe You are merciful, despite how You appear. I believe You are merciful, despite what You have not done. I believe You can help me. I believe You will help me. So Lord, have mercy upon me, a poor sinful being.” This is faith. “Faith takes Christ captive in His words” [Luther, House Postil]. This Canaanite woman “catches Christ with His own words, and He is happy to be caught” [ibid].
This is what the Lord also wants for you. He wants you to catch Him in His words. He wants you not to give up or lose heart. For in making you wait, He is not only teaching you patience; He is also training you in His Word. There is your hope. Such faith in Christ means making ourselves nothing—or rather, recognizing that without Him, we are nothing. So we set aside our pride, and our desire to be right. Like this woman, we confess we are but dogs. Yet He will not treat us as dogs, but as children.
This is the true Christian spirituality – being directed to Christ alone, clinging to Christ alone, having hope in Christ alone. In her time of need, the Canaanite woman put all her chips on Christ alone. Jesus was her anchor amidst vacillating emotions and experiences. Her prayers are useful for us in every situation: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David!” “Lord, help me!”
The liturgy, which comes to us from the ancient church, gives us those same words to speak week upon week. Lord have mercy; Our Father; Lamb of God; Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD - the words we pray together also become your prayers in prosperity and adversity. Say them boldly, sing them loudly, shout them in the darkness. When all around you is chaos and strife, darkness and the end of life, these words call Jesus to help.
And help you He shall. He hears you. And if He has not answered you yet, it is because the work of perfecting your patience is not yet complete. He wants you to catch Him in His Word. Say to Him, “I will not let You go unless You bless me.” He will bless you; the Lord will answer; He will give even to us dogs the bread reserved for the children.