Advent is a season of waiting. While our culture urges us to rush toward Christmas, Advent invites us to slow down, to watch, and to wait with faith. Scripture is full of people who waited on God, but one story in particular—found in Matthew 15:21–28—continues to fascinate and challenge us.
Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon, where a Canaanite woman approached Him, crying out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” But Jesus gave her no reply. The disciples, irritated, urged Him to send her away. When Jesus finally spoke, His words seemed painfully dismissive: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
Still, the woman pressed closer. Kneeling, she said, “Lord, help me.” Again Jesus answered with what sounds like a harsh refusal: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Yet even then she did not retreat. Instead, she responded with faith-filled boldness, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Jesus then proclaimed, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.
Waiting in Desperation
Desperation often pushes us toward courage. A paratrooper once joked that his first jump was inspired by a plane at 20,000 feet with three dead engines. In Scripture, this unnamed mother stands as a picture of desperate love. Her daughter is tormented. No healer in her own community has been able to help. Out of options, she turns to the One whose power she has heard about. She waits for her moment, and when Jesus comes near, she cries out for mercy.
We, too, know what it feels like to reach the limits of our strength. Illness, grief, broken relationships, addiction, fear—these moments reveal our powerlessness. And often, only then do we stretch our hands toward God. We pray. We weep. We wait. That is why the woman’s persistence speaks so deeply to us.
But Matthew’s telling forces us to pause. Jesus appears to ignore her. The disciples want her gone. When Jesus finally speaks, He seems to dismiss her because she is a foreigner—an outsider. She is a Canaanite, considered by the Jewish people an enemy and spiritual outsider, even called by rabbis a “dog,” a filthy scavenger. What are we supposed to make of this?
Why Tell This Story?
This is perhaps the most uncomfortable moment in the Gospels, the one place where Jesus seems to stand in a bad light. Why would Matthew include it? Where is the compassion and mercy we expect from the Lord?
But the story is not about Jesus refusing grace. It is about Jesus revealing grace—grace beyond every human boundary. When Jesus uses the Greek diminutive κυναρίοις—“little dogs”—He is not insulting her. He is setting the stage for a revelation. Jesus is drawing His disciples into a moment where they must confront their assumptions about who belongs in God’s family.
Jesus is teaching them that the Kingdom of God is not built on ancestry, ethnicity, or old boundary lines. Circumcision, to Jesus, was never merely an ethnic marker. True belonging—the real “circumcision”—is of the heart, wrought by the Holy Spirit. The Canaanite woman shows this truth by her confession: “Lord, Son of David.” She recognizes Jesus more clearly than many who grew up in Israel’s story.
In her waiting, she has heard the Word about Jesus, and now she seeks a word from Jesus. Her faith elevates her from “outsider” to beloved daughter. Jesus teaches His disciples that God’s people are not defined by bloodline but by faith like Abraham’s—a faith that trusts God’s promise before any ritual, law, or heritage.
Salvation and Grace
Catholic theology sees salvation as a lifelong journey of grace. It begins with God’s initiative—grace that stirs the heart, opens the mind, and invites every person, from every culture and background, to respond. Salvation is not earned but received. And yet faith is never static. Genuine faith expresses itself through love, obedience, and good works—not as a payment to God but as the fruit of grace alive in us.
Grace was clearly at work in the Canaanite woman’s heart. She sought Jesus not because she believed she deserved anything, but because she trusted fully in His mercy.
When Jesus tests her faith, she does not shrink back. She understands His words not as rejection but as invitation. With humility and courage, she reveals the depth of her trust: “Even the dogs eat the scraps…” Her humility is not self-degrading; it is truthful. She knows her need, and she knows His mercy is abundant enough even in crumbs.
Her answer breaks every barrier. Jesus delights in her faith: “O woman, great is your faith!” In that instant, her daughter is restored.
The disciples, stunned, begin to grasp the lesson. God’s mercy cannot be hoarded; it overflows. Faith is not a matter of ancestry or privilege but of humility, trust, and perseverance. And sometimes those farthest from the center see Jesus most clearly.
A Lesson for Today
This story reaches powerfully into our own time. The Canaanite woman’s faith teaches us that God’s mercy extends beyond every boundary—culture, race, religion, or status. In a world fractured by division, she reveals a God who hears every sincere cry and seeks to draw every heart to Himself.
Her persistence speaks to our modern struggles. When prayers seem unanswered or God feels silent, we often assume rejection. But she shows that divine delay is not divine refusal. Genuine faith presses forward, humbly and boldly, even when the answer is not immediate.
Her humility also challenges our culture, which equates worth with success or achievement. She comes to Jesus with no entitlement, only openness. And God responds to such a heart—one honest enough to admit its need.
Finally, Jesus’ response shows us that God delights in bestowing and emboldening faith in every heart. He breaks open his people’s understanding of chosen-ness and invites all into God’s family.
As we journey through Advent—a season of longing, waiting, and hope—this story invites us to trust more deeply, pray more persistently, judge less quickly, and believe in a mercy that knows no limits. Like the Canaanite woman, we come before the Lord with empty hands and hopeful hearts, confident that even the scraps of His grace are enough to heal, restore, and transform.
Image from Wikimedia Commons
