We Are Not Worthy

But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her.  (Matthew 15:23)

The Canaanite woman was lucky: Jesus eventually did give her an answer, the same day that she asked.  But for so many people, God's silence seems to go on indefinitely - for years, for a lifetime.  Yet she persists in her faith, and insists on continuing to do him homage (15:25).

When Jesus does speak to the Canaanite woman, his first words to her are harsh and humiliating.  "I have not come for your kind," He says first.  Then He compares her to a dog!  But she is not to be deterred, or deferred.  Her faith is marked by her persistence, her insistence, her willingness to argue and even "talk back" to God.  She does not give up on God!  

Yet her insistence that God will and must act on her behalf does not come from a place of entitlement.  She accepts His judgment of her.  She is not worthy.  She even accepts His characterization of her as no more worthy than a "dog."  Her appeal to God rests not on her worthiness, but on God's generosity.  She comes to God in a stance of humility - but her humility will not be rebuffed.

It is to these people that God comes.  Not the people who feel entitled to special treatment, not the people who insist on their own worth, not the people who point to themselves in their appeal to God.  God comes for the people who recognize, deeply, their own unworthiness, but point rather to the worthiness and goodness and generosity and abundance of God.  It is these people who are able to be lifted out of their own narcissism and self-centeredness and who can recognize God as the source of all that is good.

God's silence at times is a way to bring us to this place of humility.  The truly humble person knows that God cannot and will not remain silent forever - not because she deserves an answer, but because God's goodness will prevail.

We do not live in a culture that values humility.  Certainly the virtue of humility has been warped in the past, to justify keeping certain groups of people silent, or to encourage people to endure injustice without fighting back.  Certainly it is good to fight back against this wrong notion of humility.  

But the Canaanite woman's example teaches us how humility actually is a call to speak out against suffering and injustice, and is the only starting point for seeking true righteousness.  There is an irony in this that many advocates of social justice seem - at least in their public proclamations - seem to miss.  It is only by a deep awareness of our own unworthiness that we can claim our true worth as sons and daughters of God.  It is only through humility that we can claim dignity.

The Shut Door

Alphonsus Liguori

When I was growing up my parents were fond of the saying, There are no atheists in foxholes, but even at a young age I sensed the illogic of such a statement.  It's far easier to believe in God when life is going well than it is when life challenges you.

In fact as a believer I think that's why God challenges you.  He wants you to have a mature faith, one that can withstand tests and difficulties.  One that causes us to raise our voices with the Psalmist: My courage fails me. . . [but] though I am afflicted and poor, my Lord keeps me in mind (Psalm 40).  

I have always found myself closer to God in good times than in bad.  But I know that this sense of distance is my own doing.  I have voluntarily chosen to shut myself off from God.  I am angry with Him.  I do not want Him near.  I don't want to accept the consolation - perhaps even the apology! - He wants to offer me.  

I don't want to trust Him.

I thank God for giving me the space to sit quietly and lick my wounds.  I know that even if I've locked the door on Him, He's still waiting patiently outside.  Sometimes I can even sense myself opening the door a crack, and in those moments I can hear Him whispering to me the words I know are true but that I don't want to believe, because it's easier not to believe.  So I slam the door shut again.  It's easier to whine and moan, Why me? than it is to accept that God will give me the courage to face whatever it is I have been called to face.  Because I don't want to face it.

God is being patient with me.  I thank Him for that.  Even as I know I've put this distance between us - even as I know I'm being as immature and quarrelsome as an adolescent who feels deprived unjustly of some unearned privilege - I know He still loves me, and will wait for me to open the door to Him once more.

I do want to open the door.  Underneath my anger, I still love Him.  And I can only cast myself on my reliance that He will continue to bestow upon me His loving kindness.