The Faith That
Refuses to Let Go
Homily on Matthew
15:21–28
Deacon Pat Kearns
Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Parish
Have you ever prayed so hard for
something that you wondered if God was even listening?
Perhaps it was for a child who has
walked away from the faith...
A spouse battling illness...
A marriage that seems to be falling
apart...
Freedom from addiction...
Or maybe simply the strength to make
it through another difficult day.
Most of us know what it feels like to
pray... and wait.
To ask... and hear only silence.
If you've ever experienced that, then
today's Gospel is speaking directly to you.
Because at first glance, this is one
of the most difficult passages in all of Scripture.
A desperate mother comes running to
Jesus.
She isn't asking for money.
She isn't asking for success.
She isn't asking for comfort.
She is pleading for her daughter—a
daughter tormented by a demon.
Every parent can understand that
desperation.
When your child is hurting, you would
do almost anything to take their place.
She cries out,
"Lord, Son of David, have pity on
me!"
And then something unexpected happens.
Jesus says...
Nothing.
Silence.
Imagine how that must have felt.
She has traveled to find the one
person who can save her daughter...
and He doesn't even answer.
If that weren't difficult enough, the
disciples grow impatient and say "Send her away."
And finally, Jesus speaks.
"I was sent only to the lost
sheep of the house of Israel."
Still...
she doesn't leave.
She kneels before Him.
"Lord, help me."
Then comes the sentence that has
puzzled Christians for centuries.
"It is not right to take the food
of the children and throw it to the dogs."
If we stop there, we completely
misunderstand what Jesus is doing.
This isn't rejection.
It is revelation.
Jesus is drawing out one of the
greatest examples of faith found anywhere in the Gospels.
And to understand that faith, let me
tell you a story.
A number of years ago, I heard about a
little boy who walked into a pet store.
He had been saving every penny for
months because he wanted a puppy.
He emptied his pockets onto the
counter.
Pennies.
Nickels.
Dimes.
The owner counted them and smiled
kindly.
"I'm sorry, son. That's not
enough."
The boy didn't argue.
Instead he asked,
"Can I at least see the
puppies?"
The owner brought out a litter of
playful puppies.
They all came running...
except one.
One tiny puppy limped slowly behind
the others.
Its leg had been injured at birth.
Immediately the little boy pointed.
"I want that one."
The owner shook his head.
"No, son... you don't want that
puppy.
He'll never run.
He'll never jump.
He'll never play like the others.
I'll just give him to you."
The little boy looked at the owner and
quietly rolled up his pant leg.
Attached to his own leg was a heavy
metal brace.
Then he softly said,
"I don't run very well either.
He needs someone who
understands."
The owner later admitted he had tears
in his eyes.
Because that little boy saw what
everyone else missed.
He didn't see weakness.
He saw someone worth loving.
And perhaps that's exactly how this
woman felt.
She had spent her entire life being
reminded that she didn't belong.
She wasn't Jewish.
She wasn't one of the chosen people.
To many around her...
she was an outsider.
Yet she came anyway.
Because when you're desperate
enough...
your pride disappears.
She knew something that many people
around Jesus still hadn't learned.
Jesus was her only hope.
That brings us to an important
question.
What do we do when God seems silent?
Because if we're honest...
most of us don't struggle with
believing God exists.
We struggle with waiting.
We pray...
and if the answer doesn't come
quickly...
we begin wondering whether He is
listening at all.
Maybe you've prayed for years for your
son or daughter to return to the Church.
Maybe you've begged God to heal your
spouse.
Maybe you've prayed for peace after
losing someone you love.
Maybe you've asked over and over for
direction in your life.
And nothing seems to happen.
At least not immediately.
But today's Gospel reminds us of
something we often forget.
God's silence does not mean God's
absence.
Sometimes His silence is preparing
something greater than we can yet see.
The remarkable thing is how the woman
responds.
She doesn't become offended.
She doesn't walk away.
She doesn't accuse Jesus of being
unfair.
Instead she says one of the most
beautiful sentences in Scripture.
"Please, Lord, even the dogs eat
the scraps that fall from their master's table."
What humility.
What trust.
What perseverance.
She isn't demanding a miracle.
She is simply trusting in His mercy.
And perhaps that is why Jesus allows
this conversation to unfold before everyone.
Because He isn't trying to embarrass
her.
He is teaching His disciples—and
us—what authentic faith looks like.
The saints understood this lesson.
Think about Saint Monica.
She prayed for her son Augustine...
not for a week...
not for a month...
but for nearly seventeen years.
Seventeen years of tears.
Seventeen years of disappointment.
Seventeen years that probably looked
like unanswered prayer.
Can you imagine if she had quit after
five years?
Or ten?
Or fifteen?
The Church would never have known
Saint Augustine.
Sometimes the greatest miracles come
only after the greatest perseverance.
There is another beautiful detail
hidden in today's Gospel.
The woman says,
"Even the crumbs are
enough."
The early Church Fathers loved that
image.
They saw it pointing toward the
Eucharist.
She believed even the smallest crumb
of God's mercy could change everything.
And today...
we don't receive crumbs.
We receive Jesus Christ Himself.
Body.
Blood.
Soul.
And Divinity.
If she believed a crumb was enough...
how much more should we expect when we
receive the fullness of Christ in Holy Communion?
Do we approach this altar expecting
Jesus to change us?
Or has Communion become simply another
routine?
There is one more lesson hidden in
today's Gospel.
Notice what the disciples wanted.
"Send her away."
They saw an interruption.
Jesus saw a soul.
Isn't that often true in our own
lives?
The lonely neighbor.
The elderly parishioner who always
wants to talk.
The difficult coworker.
The homeless man standing on the
street corner.
The struggling family member who keeps
making poor choices.
Sometimes we see inconvenience.
Jesus sees someone worth dying for.
Perhaps the greatest conversion needed
today is not simply stronger faith...
but clearer vision.
Seeing people through the eyes of
Christ.
So let me leave you with two
challenges this week.
First...
Think about the prayer you've almost
stopped praying.
The one you've quietly placed on the
shelf because you think God isn't listening.
Pick it up again.
Bring it before Him every day.
Refuse to let go.
And second...
Look for one person who feels
invisible.
Someone everyone else overlooks.
Speak to them.
Listen to them.
Encourage them.
You may become the answer to a prayer
they've been praying.
As we come to this altar today,
remember how today's Gospel ends.
Jesus finally looks at this persistent
mother and says,
"O woman, great is your faith!
Let it be done for you as you wish."
Notice what He praises.
Not her background.
Not her education.
Not her accomplishments.
Only one thing.
Her faith.
A faith that refused to quit.
A faith that held on even when heaven
seemed silent.
Brothers and sisters...
Every one of us will leave this church
carrying some burden.
A cross.
A wound.
A fear.
A prayer.
When you begin to wonder if God has
forgotten you...
remember the Canaanite woman.
She knelt.
She trusted.
She stayed.
And in the end, she discovered what
every saint eventually learns:
God may seem silent...
but He is never absent.
So don't stop praying.
Don't stop believing.
Don't stop trusting.
Because the Lord who seemed silent...
was listening all along.
