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Sermon for the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost – August 16, 2026
Matthew 15:10-28
Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.
A Canaanite woman cried out to Jesus, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.”
The fact that she is a Canaanite woman is significant. The Canaanites were the ancient enemies of God’s people, Israel. The Canaanites are described repeatedly in the Bible as a wicked and idolatrous people. Descended from a cursed grandson of Noah, they rejected the true God in favor of a pantheon of false gods with names like Baal and Molech. The prophets warned and archaeology confirms that the Canaanites offered human sacrifices to these false gods, including the sacrifice of children. They were thus despised by the Israelites, who referred to them as dogs. It was not a term of endearment.
This was her background. These were her people. And yet this Canaanite woman believed that this Jewish rabbi, Jesus, could help her. She cried out to him, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David!” This was Jewish lingo she was using. She was using Jewish terms and Jewish titles to refer to Jesus. She called him Lord. She used the messianic title, “Son of David.” Somehow, some way, she knew that the Jews were expecting a messiah, a savior, from the line of David. Somehow, some way, she believed Jesus was that messiah. And somehow, some way, she believed this Jewish messiah could help her – a Canaanite woman.
Maybe it was a hope rooted in her desperation. After all, she was experiencing one of the worst things a human being can experience. She had a child who was suffering. The best description of being a parent I’ve ever heard is that for each child you have you grow another heart, only this one lives outside of your body. The love you feel is fierce and intense and profound. You want nothing more than for them to be well. And when they suffer, you feel a piercing of your own heart, and you would do anything to make that suffering stop. Maybe that’s what had this Canaanite woman crying out to Jesus. She had no right to expect anything from him, but she was desperate. Her child was suffering.
“Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David;” she said, “my daughter is tormented by a demon.” We don’t know what sort of demon she was facing exactly, but the word “tormented” tells us everything we need to know. Her daughter was not well.
And what do the scriptures tell us about how Jesus responded? They say, “But he did not answer her at all.” Her cries were met with silence.
Undeterred, she kept on pleading for his help. She kept on pleading to the point that the disciples asked Jesus to send her away. Now, finally, Jesus had something to say to her. He said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
I’m not sure which is worse, the silence, or this remark, which is the equivalent of a big fat “No.” But once again, this woman would not give up. This Canaanite woman knelt before this Jewish messiah: “Lord, help me,” she said. Surely now he would help her, right? But Jesus said, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Preachers have been trying to do damage control ever since.
Bible scholars have long tried to make sense of Jesus’ words here. Some have suggested Jesus was testing her. Some say he was testing the disciples. Some say he had a sparkle in his eye when he said it and was only joking. Some say he was tired and cranky after a busy couple of days with no rest. Some have said Jesus was just using the common language of his time and culture. Others have said he was only following God’s timeline, which was Jews first, Gentiles later. Some point out that Jesus uses the term for little dog, or pet, instead of the term for a street dog, so it isn’t as mean as it sounds.
One unfortunate take which has gotten some traction in some circles recently is that Jesus is being taught here to examine his prejudices and that this was the diversity training he needed. (This is very bad theology. The sinless Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, through whom all things were made, needs sensitivity lessons from no one. Beware of preachers who fancy themselves to be more righteous than Jesus.)
Jesus’ words do sound offensive to our modern ears, and there might be something to some of those explanations, but we shouldn’t be more offended by Jesus’ response than the Canaanite woman herself was, and she doesn’t seem to be offended at all. Instead, she grabs on to Christ’s words as though they were a lifeline to her. She uses them to get her foot in the door. “Yes Lord,” she says, “yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” She is happy to be called a dog if it means Jesus is her master! She doesn’t mind being called a dog if it means she can eat the crumbs from his table! After all, there isn’t that much difference between dogs and lost sheep. They both need help from the master, like all sinners do!
And at last, Jesus responds to her need. “Woman, great is your faith!” Jesus says. Now he addresses her not as a dog, but as a woman, as a daughter of Eve. Now he praises her for her faith, which he describes as great – in stark contrast to the faith of his disciples which he had just recently called little. Now he gives her a place at his table, blessing her with more than crumbs. He gives her the full meal deal! “Let it be done for you as you wish,” Jesus said. Her prayer was answered. Her daughter was made well.
As Martin Luther said in a sermon on this passage: “Thus, she catches Christ in his own words, and [Jesus] is happy to be caught. She catches Christ the Lord in his own words and with that wins not only the right of a dog, but that of the [sheep]. Now then, where will he go, our dear Jesus? He let himself be made captive and must comply. Be sure of this: That is what he most deeply desires.”
Luther didn’t try to apologize for Jesus. He didn’t try to explain his responses away. Luther leaves the offense there, but looks to where it led and what it illustrates. Luther saw this whole scene as a picture of the Christian life. He saw it as a picture of faith and especially as a picture of prayer. In the same sermon Luther wrote: “From it we are to learn that nothing, not even the throes of death, must deter us from calling upon God in prayer—even though he has already said ‘No.’”
There is a particularly desperate kind of anguish that parents feel for their children when they are suffering, but even if you are not a parent or have never been in that kind of situation with your kids, probably all of us have had times when our prayers have been met with silence, or with a big fat “No.” There are times when God seems to be ignoring us or treating us rudely.
Over the years I’ve ministered to many people who have much in common with the Canaanite woman. I’ve had people come to me with tears in their eyes because their child is unwell in one way or another. I’ve stood vigil at Children’s Hospital in Seattle more than once. I’ve had parents of adult children share their anguish with me because their son or daughter is sick or suffering, or plagued by demon of addiction, or a demon of depression, a demon of unbelief.
I talk to people who have other people they care about deeply who are suffering, who are facing serious health problems or battling demons of various sorts. I know there are people in this sanctuary right now who have been begging Jesus for healing of bodies and minds and relationships, begging Jesus that things could be different, and so far, all they’ve gotten from him is either silence, or a “No.”
This Canaanite woman is the patron saint of all who have ever experienced what seems to be God’s cold shoulder. She is the patron saint of all outsiders who find themselves in desperate need. She is the patron saint of all who have felt like they are in the doghouse with God. She is the patron saint of all sinners longing for even some crumbs from the masters’ table.
But this Canaanite woman doesn’t just echo the desperation of what seems to be our unanswered prayers. She also shows us what Christian faith looks like. She says to Jesus: “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” This is more than a witty comeback; it is a bold expression of faith. She is utterly convinced that Jesus can help her, and she demands it from him. “Even crumbs from you would be enough, Lord, so give them to me!” She holds him to his word even after that cruel silence, even after that big “no.” She catches him in his words, and Jesus was happy to be caught in them.
Such faith is great indeed. As Luther said, faith that holds Jesus to his Word in spite of everything is what Jesus most deeply desires from us. The Canaanite woman displayed remarkable trust in his mercy and grace in spite of what she had experienced thus far, and that trust ultimately proved to be well placed.
No matter what your background or history might be, you too can go to the Lord Jesus for help. If he can help a Canaanite woman, he can certainly help you. No matter what your deepest needs might be, your biggest fears, your most painful hurts, he can help. It might not always seem like it, but Christ Jesus is your messiah too. He is your savior, and he delights in hearing your prayers and responding to your needs.
He might not answer quickly. You might get silence at first. You might even get what seems like a firm “No.” Perhaps in these times he is teaching us to live by faith, to trust in his mercy and grace even when we can’t see it. But this Lord of ours loves to be held to his Word. He loves it when we hold him to his promises, and he will respond in due time. It might be sooner, it might be later, it might not be until the resurrection, but the day will come when our trust in him will be proven to be well placed, and all will be made well at last.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Rev. Jeffrey R. Spencer
Oak Harbor Lutheran Church