Oh woman, great is your faith!

I wonder… what is Jesus speaking to when he says this? What is he responding to in this woman, in this moment, when he acknowledges her “great faith”?

As Easter people in our time and place, with 2000 years of theology behind us, it’s easy to default to an understanding of faith as belief in Jesus: belief in him as the incarnate one, as the son of God, the Word of God, believing in him as the Christ.  As such, faith becomes an internal stance, a directional focus, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus. But this clearly isn’t what Jesus is focused on, at least not this story. If it was, he would have granted the Canaanite woman’s request as soon as she addressed him: “Lord, son of David, have mercy on me.” But in fact he doesn’t; he first ignores her, and then, after the disciples call on him to send her away, he dismisses her as not being part of his flock. Despite her calling him Lord, Jesus claims he is not hershepherd.

Whether Jesus really believes this and needs to grow his own understanding, or is purposely inviting the conversation that follows, or is a momentarily tired and grumpy human being not wanting to be bothered, this woman is clearly prepared to counter any obstacle for the sake of her daughter. So when Jesus calls her a dog, a common slur referring to gentiles, she is ready with a response, even as she pays him homage. If you look at the Greek, what she says to him is in effect: “even the little dogs – the pets -- make a meal of the crumbs that the children give them.”

This brings me immediately back to when my youngest niece was six, and we were visiting our in-laws in their home. Their black lab puppy Lucy was begging at the table, and my sister-in-law, who is as formidable as they come, told us that their family “NEVER, EVER feeds the dog anything from the table.” Not 3 minutes later I saw my 6-year-old niece, fast as lightning flip some food to Lucy. When she realized I saw, she looked at me wide eyed, finger over her mouth, silently begging me not to tell.  

When this woman answers Jesus, she is pointing to the natural compassion of children. She is begging Jesus (who elsewhere asks us to come to him as a little child!), to have the compassion that a child has for their little dog…to give her the crumb, believing that the crumb will be enough, and arguing for the truth that all are sustained by God, that all are meant to fall under Christ’s care. THIS is when Jesus praises her great faith! This woman speaks forth compassion – fights for it on behalf of her daughter -- and her daughter is healed!

Friends, we know this woman, don’t we? We’ve seen her: in our friends, our mothers, our daughters, our sisters. We’ve been her! She is the mother who will walk barefoot over broken glass to get her daughter the care she needs; someone who fights for years for the life of her son or brother lost to addiction; that mama bear that goes up against school systems, and justice institutions and political machines so that her child and all who follow after might be raised in a more equitable, compassionate community. I think of immigrant and refugee moms, shepherding their children literally across countries to begin life in a foreign land in relative safety. We know her. We know the late nights, and the exhaustion, the willingness to grovel, the hidden tears, the worry and the struggle. We know the prayers whispered in the middle of the night and also at noon, and what it is like to be consumed by a compassion that fuels persistence and resourcefulness and fierceness and strength.

Pope Francis famously said, compassion is the language of God. And he was careful to note that compassion is not the same as pity, but a force that, when it takes hold of us, propels us, he says, “to get involved in the problems of others.”  He said “compassion takes us along the path to true justice… and this always saves us from selfishness, from indifference, from our own closure.” (Homily at Sept 17, 2019 Mass) This woman, out of compassion for her daughter, speaks the language of God’s heart to God’s son, and he esteems it as FAITH!  

Friends, imagine what might happen if we fully embraced and embodied this concept of faith! Imagine first how we would feel if credited ourselves with “great faith” on those days when getting out of bed is hard, but knowing Christ is with us, we rise and try to be love in the world for another day, even during those messy times, or those times when things look dark. Sometimes, this looks and feels like exhaustion, and it might feel our faith is the size of a mustard seed…but we know what Christ says about that!

And then imagine what healing we might bring forth into the world if, like our Canaanite woman, we manifest a compassion that propels us to fight for justice on behalf of those we are called to love, which, according to our gospel is EVERYONE, but  particularly, according to our Church’s teaching, those who are tormented by demons of their own, lost, hurting, disempowered, silenced, and especially those we may not immediately “see” or recognize as part of our neighborhood, our Church, our “flock.”

Friends, to keep our eyes fixed on the least of these IS to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. In them is where he is found. To show compassion, to get “involved in their lives,” to have them in mind when decisions are being made or votes are being cast, is to get involved in the life of God. It is to speak God’s language. And this, my friends, is what Christ himself credits as great faith.