Promises and Silence
In Psalm 145, we read
17 The Lord is righteous in all his ways
and faithful in all he does.
18 The Lord is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
19 He fulfills the
desires of those who fear him;
he hears their cry and saves them. (Psalm
145:17-19, NIV 2011)
We know the invitation
Jesus gives to us to follow Him. We are gathered to Him and going into the
world. And so we have come and believed in Jesus, and we come to church to
worship God, serve Him, and grow closer to Him. And throughout the Bible, we
read that God answers prayers, gives us promises, that He saves. Last week we
read Jesus words in Matthew 7:7: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you
will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (NIV 1984) We know that God
is good, and He wants us to come to Him for all things we need.
But is it always this
simple?
What about those times
when we wonder if Jesus’ invitation is truly for us? What about those times
when we pray and pray and it seems that our prayers must have stuck somewhere
on the ceiling? What about those times when we or others we know feel shut off,
alienated from God and the grace others seem to experience so much—we pray, but
hear only silence? What about those praying, yet suffering day after day from
persecution, famine, wars, or other tragedies from Sudan to North Korea to
Moldova? Is God silent to their needs?
Even Now...
I think there’s a
question that we might find ourselves asking in times like this: “Is God, is
Jesus, really good—and is His grace for me, even now?”
This woman, in our
passage today, seems to have had reasons to ask this same question. After all,
she is an outsider, and at first Jesus doesn’t seem to be for her. When we find
Jesus silent, does He really have grace enough—even for outsiders like this
woman?
An outsider and
Jesus’ silence
As we look at this
passage, we find that this woman is an outsider in several ways. She is, first,
a woman. In this culture and time period, that’s one strike against her. She is
also a Gentile from the area of Tyre and Sidon. In the Old Testament, Tyre and
Sidon are Gentile areas,[1] and
Tyre especially is judged for its pride. And she’s identified as a Canaanite—another
negative association.
So here’s a woman, a Canaanite,
from the region of Tyre and Sidon. Not a great resume for one applying for help
from Jesus. Why should she hope to receive an answer from Him?
But we hear this woman
crying out anyway. She is crying for Jesus to have mercy on her and heal her
daughter. She comes with the pain of a mother who may feel powerless to help
her own daughter. Many of you may know the feeling of seeing someone we love
suffering, when we can do nothing to help them.
But now, with Jesus in
this region, she seems to have a glimmer of hope. Perhaps she has heard of his
various miracles and his authority...there were those two men who had been
blind, but now said Jesus had given them their sight; there was that Jewish
synagogue leader’s daughter—rumor had it—whom Jesus had raised from the dead;
there were numerous accounts of demons being cast out; and there was the most
recent news of Jesus having fed thousands of people from just a few loaves and
a couple fish...and so the stories went. And now this woman has come to Jesus. He
must have something left for her as well.
We probably know what we
expect from Jesus here: Jesus—the one who calls Matthew the tax collector, who talks
to the Samaritan woman at the well, the one who heals the centurion’s servant,
the one who welcomes little children and cares for the outcast. If we were
reading this story for the first time, we can imagine smiling, confident that
Jesus will immediately shock the narrow-minded Jews, welcome the outcast, and
heal the woman’s daughter. We’re ready for the happy ending.
But He waits. He is
silent. (pause) And then, when the disciples come to Jesus, He says that he was
only sent to the “lost sheep of Israel...” We talked last week about how Jesus
was focused on going to the Jews first. Is there anything left for those who
aren’t Jews? So this woman may have had reason to wonder if Jesus is really for
her, if His grace can be for her daughter. She is, after all, only a woman,
only a Gentile, only an outsider.
But still the mother
comes closer. Jesus seems silent to her cries, but there must be some help left
for her. He must be good, must have grace even for her.
So she now drops to her
knees before Jesus. “Lord, help me!”
And now we get another
shock: Jesus responds, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.” Dogs! It seems that Jesus tells her, in effect, that
the spiritual food, the healing, the wholeness, that comes through Him and is
for the Jewish people should not be given to the dogs—the Gentiles!
Is this the Jesus we
thought we knew, seemingly rejecting this woman’s heartfelt plea?? Will He do
what so many others might have done: pass by the outsider asking for help? Will
the only answer she receives be perpetual silence or the rejection for an
outsider? (turn away from woman)
We’ll leave this scene as
it seems to stand for now—the woman, pleading for her daughter, kneeling before
Jesus. And Jesus seems to be silent, then even pushing her away. And we ask our
same question: Even now, in this moment, is He truly good? And is His grace
really for people like this woman?
God’s Silence and
Us
I think sometimes
we all find ourselves in a place not too different from this woman. And as
those who may not be Jewish, we are in the same camp as she is. We also come to
Jesus, we hear the promises of Scripture, but sometimes they don’t seem to be
for us. God seems to be turning a deaf ear to our prayers. We’re at the end of
our rope, nowhere else to turn, but even God seems to be distant.
Last week we talked about
sickness, and how it can have a spiritual as well as physical significance to
it. Sometimes, as James 5 implies, it can be because of sin. At times like this
is should be a wake-up call to confess. But sometimes it has nothing to do with
sin. The same can be true of silence. When we feel pushed away by God, we
should make sure that we aren’t the ones pushing. We should pray and look at
ourselves honestly and humbly before God’s Word; maybe there is sin we need to
confess, that is distancing us from God. (see Psalm 66:18-19) But like this woman,
feeling distanced from God isn’t necessarily because of something we have done.
We also may be bringing our needs before Jesus, but He seems silent. Is God’s
grace really for us, even when He even seems to be pushing us away?
So in light of this
silence, we wonder: Is God in “outside” places like Iraq? Is God silent in
Egypt, Sudan, Haiti, Afghanistan, North Korea, Syria? And we feel this
frustration even closer to home too. We pray for our family members, for the
Church, but sometimes we wonder where God is. We may be weary with praying. We
have come before God in humble confession, seeking His grace. Still He seems to
be silent. We feel like outsiders to His grace and promises. And in the midst
of this we ask, “Even now, is God really good? Is Jesus’ grace really for us?”
David also struggled with
God’s silence. But even in the midst of silence and frustration, he brought his
questions to God in prayer. Earlier we read Psalm 13 as our call to worship,
and in Psalm 28 he says: “To you, Lord,
I call; you are my Rock, do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if you remain silent,
I will be like those who go down to the pit. Hear my cry for mercy as I call to
you for help, as I lift up my hands toward your Most Holy Place.” (28:1-2, NIV
2011)
God seems silent
sometimes. We, like David, and like this woman in our passage today, may seem
to have reasons to wonder where God is. Is His grace for us?
Hopeful Geography
But let’s think
back on what we know here. As we can see in Matthew 14:34—and can follow on
this map—the last place we see Jesus before our account here is Gennesaret. Then,
in the beginning of our passage Jesus travels to the district of Tyre and
Sidon, northwest by some 25 miles. Our story of the Canaanite woman is the only
scene described in detail from Jesus’ time in this region, and in verse 29 Matthew
tells that he returned to the Sea of Galilee (indicate on map). From the
account in Mark, this seems to have been for a time of retreat for Jesus. But
in God’s sovereign plan, we find Him here, in a Gentile area. (Tyndale New
Testament Commentaries, Matthew, 246)
So Jesus has come
to this area outside Israel. This woman, now kneeling before Jesus, may
recognize that she is an outsider with no apparent claim to Jesus—but Jesus has
come to her region. On top of this, in the Old Testament God promised that all
people would be blessed through Abraham. Even though Jesus’ mission is limited
for a time, He is not only for Israel, but also for others. And so this woman
can now come to Jesus, even as it may seem He is pushing her away.
It Is Not Right...
Let’s also look a
little more closely at Jesus’ words to the woman, as she is kneeling before Him.
...He calls her a “dog,” saying that “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs”—something that
probably makes us pause a little! There are different interpretations of what
this means. The Greek word Matthew uses here seems to have a slightly unique quality to it, however, as it refers to "small" dogs in particular--perhaps slightly lessening the shock. It does seem that the dogs He is speaking of would be in the same house as the children. In one sense, then, the woman can be seen as being brought into the household. (see Bruner,
102)
But still this
seems to be similar to a derogatory Jewish term for Gentiles. This can’t be
especially flattering. But instead of leaving in pride, she humbly continues
her request. She seems to in some way believe that Jesus is still good, and
that He might grant her request. As we will see in VBS, even when we have
nothing to cling to except God’s promises and His goodness, that is enough. We
can still trust God.
The Crumbs that Fall...
And so this woman
humbly picks up on the image Jesus used, responding “even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”
Now finally, upon
this woman’s response—a faith that trusts that God’s mercy is even for the
Gentiles, even for her—we get the happy ending we had been hoping for. Jesus,
in his final words, affirms the woman and honors her faith, and heals her
daughter. But, contrary to our initial expectations and hopes, we now have a
richer understanding of the goodness of Jesus—a goodness that is still present
even when we can’t see or feel any evidence of it.
There’s a game
some of you might have played before, that’s meant to help build trust between
people. Individuals pair up and one stands behind the other. Then one of them
falls backwards, not trying to catch themselves—and their teammate catches them.
It’s a scary feeling to fall backwards, but the more you trust the person who
is supposed to catch you, the less scary it is. That’s a little bit like God’s
silence. We trust that He’s still there, that He will catch us, even when we
feel nothing.
When God is
silent, it teaches us to wait, trusting Him even in the silence. This woman’s
faith must have grown deeper through this conversation. And in this story, we
see that even for the outsiders, God is good. Even when Jesus seems silent,
there is more than enough grace even for them.
The following
passage is on the feeding of the 4000, and we read that there were 7 baskets of
broken pieces left over after everyone had eaten. Jesus, the Bread of Life, is
given for us. This is some of what we celebrate in the Lord’s Supper. And like
the crumbs from the table in Jesus’ conversation with this woman, there is more
than enough to go around. Not just for the Jewish people, but even for those
like this Canaanite woman, even for us, for the Church.
The Ultimate
Answer
At the same time
as we may acknowledge this, and hear stories of God answering prayers, we may
still wonder, “What if God doesn’t respond as I hope? What if He never answers
my prayer in the way I’d hoped? Why should we believe that God is truly good,
even when He seems silent?”
But here’s the
key: God may seem silent, but we already have the ultimate answer given to us.
We have Jesus’ cross and empty tomb. We are called to
come to the cross, to feel its rough-hewn edges, to see Jesus' blood spilled
that we—the outsiders—might be brought near to God. Reconciled to Him, as we
talked about in 2 Corinthians several weeks ago. So we can trust His promise to
be with us always, in Matthew 28.
The gospel is the ultimate answer to all who are kneeling before Christ
like this Canaanite woman, or like us today. Jesus was forsaken so we might be
accepted. In the gospel, we see that yes, God is good; and yes, His grace is
even for us. God will not always answer our prayers in the ways we had hoped,
but we know He knows what is best for us far better than we do. And Jesus
rejects no-one who comes to Him in true faith—no exceptions.
Jesus...All Things
In Romans 8, we read: “And we know that in all things God works for the
good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For
those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his
Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he
predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he
justified, he also glorified. What, then, shall we say in response to this? If
God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but
gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us
all things?”
So we can come to
God through Christ, even when we feel like the outsider, even when we are tired
and wondering why God doesn’t respond. God has given Christ; He will graciously
give us all things. These good things don’t come without times of difficulty or
pain, but they are good! We come with the burdens we have for ourselves, for
family members, for those in distant countries ripped apart by violence or
disaster—and for the needs of our next-door neighbor, and for the Church. The
One to Whom we are coming is, even now, good.
I love C.S.
Lewis’ series The Chronicles of Narnia, and there are two illustrations from
the books that I found relevant to our topic this evening. The first one is
from the book Prince Caspian. In this scene, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy are
in the land of Narnia, and trying to reach a military camp to help the true
king of Narnia, as he fights against an occupying army. But the children can’t
find their way and end up spending the night in the woods. Then Aslan—who in
many ways is presented as a Christ-figure in the books—wakes Lucy in the middle
of the night and tells her to wake the others so they can follow him the right
way to the camp. But as it turns out, for some reason she is the only one who
can see Aslan. They doubt Lucy’s claim to seeing Aslan, and Peter comments that
it’s not like Aslan to be invisible. But finally, as they follow Aslan, one by
one the children are all finally able to see Him as he ultimately leads them to
the camp. He was silent and invisible, but still there.
Is God really
good? And is His grace for me, even now?
We may sometimes
wonder where God is. He seems silent, as Jesus was for a time in our passage
this evening. But in this account in Matthew 15, we get to see the whole story.
God doesn’t just give us manicured, tame stories that smooth out all the rough
edges of life. This woman kneeling before Jesus has reason to ask the same
question we asked early on: Is Jesus really is good—and is His grace available
even for me? And as she expresses a faith in Jesus even when He seems silent,
even when He seems to be pushing her away, we hear Jesus’ response:
“Woman, you have
great faith! Your request is granted. And her daughter was healed at that very
hour.” Yes, He is good, and He has more than enough grace for the people in
Israel, and even for her.
So the answer to
this question comes at the cross, and is seen as we express a faith that slings
to Jesus even when all seems against us. The suggestion that God may not be
good, or that He might not have enough grace for any who come to Him in true
faith—these are exposed as outright lies.
Even now, He is
good!
And in this real,
difficult story we are reminded once more of Jesus’ goodness in rewarding all
who come to Him in faith. We have this
story to remind us that God has more than enough grace for us too. He is still,
and always good. And having given Christ, He will graciously give us all things!
In another of
C.S. Lewis’ books, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, there is another
wonderful scene. Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy are being told of Aslan for the
first time, and we hear their response when they hear that Aslan is a lion:
“Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he--quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."
"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver, "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else silly."
"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.
"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He’s the king, I tell you."[3]
The Jesus we meet
here in our passage is not a safe, predictable Jesus. We know from other
passages that He calls all who would follow Him to give up everything, even our
lives. He does not always fit our expectations or desires, and sometimes he even
appears to be silent—perhaps even pushing us away. This may be a time of
purifying and growing our faith. And in faith we can trust that He is not
“safe”—but He is, even now, good.
With this
goodness comes a generous invitation to come. This is an invitation that we
must each receive, and then extend to others. Like this woman kneeling before
Jesus on behalf of her daughter, we are invited to come to Him ourselves and on
behalf of others. And all who come to Him in true faith will experience His
goodness. We read some of Psalm 28 earlier, with David pleading with God not to
remain silent. The Psalm ends with these words:
Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy.The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.The Lord is the strength of his people, a fortress of salvation for his anointed one.Save your people and bless your inheritance; be their shepherd and carry them forever. (Ps. 28:6-9)
We have nothing outside
of Christ, no life, no hope. But coming to Him in faith, we can cling to Him
confidently. And being confident in the goodness and mercy of our God, how can
we not share this with others—share the gospel with all those we can? Even
when all seems to be against us, even when we seem to be outsiders, we and
others can come to our God. There is more than enough grace in Christ for all
who will come, and He is, even now, good.
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