NOTES for Mat 15:21-28

When we read in the Gospel that this woman was a Canaanite, it does not mean she was "second-rate," or of the wrong origin, or had somehow else failed to please Jesus. We know, having read the Gospel and simply sensing it in our hearts, that Jesus is always ready to help and heal the poor, the sinful, and the rejected. For the evangelist's first listeners it was entirely clear that she was a real pagan: she believed in pagan gods, worshiped them, and offered sacrifices to them. That is exactly why the Lord subjects her faith to such a test - to help her understand why she is turning to Him for help and not to her own gods.

Here a line is drawn between a person's pagan ideas and turning to Jesus, that is, prayer. Prayer to Christ, and to the Father in Christ, is incompatible with paganism. At the same time, paganism does not necessarily mean belief in other gods. It can also be the very ordinary Christian hope not in the one God, but in something else: money, one's own abilities, one's political party, the thought that things will somehow work out, and so on. Paganism is when we live not for God, but for someone or something else, most often simply for ourselves. If we, while being such pagans, want to ask Christ for something and turn to Him in prayer, we will need, together with this Canaanite woman, to pass through a complete revaluation of our faith and understand why we have turned to Christ and not to our idols...

Today's reading again offers us two episodes that, at first glance, seem directly unrelated: the healing of the Samaritan woman's daughter (vv. 22-28) and the miracle of the multiplication of food, similar to the one described in the previous chapter (vv. 29-38; compare Matt 14:13-21). And yet there is a connection between them. That connection runs through the Kingdom, whose manifestation underlies the events described in both episodes. After all, both the miracles and the healings mentioned in the Gospel narratives essentially always speak of one thing: the Kingdom which, in the Savior's words, "has come near."

Once again the Gospel repeats the account of Jesus distributing bread to the people, and now it speaks clearly about the inner meaning of what is taking place. Between the two accounts of meals, we encounter a person for whom receiving from Jesus even the remnants of this bread means receiving renewed life. She is a pagan woman who asks for life not for herself, but for her dying daughter. Outwardly, her dialogue with Jesus resembles a contest of wit: Jesus sketches a brief parabolic scene (the dogs and the children), and the woman skillfully enters into His imagery, thereby proving her right to the “crumbs of bread.” In reality, however, Christ praises her not for a clever answer, but for her faith, because what happens to her is precisely an act of faith: she recognizes in Jesus the One Who gives the bread of life. In her grief and need, Christ's words about the heavenly bread, which the disciples understood with such difficulty (cf. Jn 6), become entirely clear to her, and she touches the mystery of salvation, the mystery of the bread of life—Christ.

All the most prominent religious systems—which, it should be noted, arose in warm climates—contain a concept of ritual purity and, conversely, defilement. This is usually understood to mean, quite literally, dirt: sweat, the dust that sticks to it, soot, and so on. All this leaves a person looking unfit to appear not only before the Most High but even before other people. The Old Testament is no exception, although the emphasis in the biblical concept of defilement shifts noticeably toward the moral sphere.

Christ does not reject the very concepts of defilement and cleansing. But, He says, it is not outward and accidental things that make you unworthy of the Almighty’s gaze, but what is done by your own heart. He contrasts the hygiene of the flesh with a kind of hygiene of the spirit: it is not dirt and soot that defile a person—a person, in Abraham’s words, is himself dust and ashes—but the active doing of evil. This is what spoils God’s design for the world; this is what disfigures creation.

It is natural that we, like the Pharisees, stumble over this, because it is far more convenient for us to establish outward cleanliness than to free ourselves from the evil in our own hearts. This is an essential checkpoint in the spiritual life: do you prefer appearance to reality?

But among other things, Jesus Christ’s words in today’s Gospel are an important revelation about the Father. Jesus explains to the disciples and to us that the Almighty looks at the essence of things. If you sincerely try to help your neighbor, it is the desire itself that matters in God’s eyes, not the weakness of its execution, because in that case He Himself makes up for your weakness. But if you do something vile, it remains vile in God’s eyes, however respectable its outward form may be.