Reflection on the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Let’s begin looking at today’s Gospel by walking in the sandals of the woman from Cana. She is desperate to find help for her child, who is apparently suffering from some sort of seizures attributed in those days to possession by a demon. She had heard the gossip about Jesus when she went for water at the well. Her neighbors were enthusiastic about his ability to cure people. They also said that he was in the area of Tyre and Sidon, which was about 40 miles from Cana, or a two-day walk.

Should she go to him? He was a Jew ministering to Jewish people. She was a Gentile and was not allowed even to speak with Jewish men. Would he listen to her? Should she take the risk? Yes, it was the only hope for her child.

Jesus didn’t arrive on earth with a plan of action. He had to figure out how best to fulfill his mission. At this point he had ministered only to his own people. But here is this Canaanite woman crying out to him: “Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David!  My daughter is tormented by a demon.”  He appears to ignore her but she won’t let go. This is a mother fighting for her sick child. She might  be a Gentile dog, she says, but even they, the dogs, are worthy of scraps from under the table. 

That does it! Jesus recognizes a deep faith in her that he doesn’t always see in his own people and grants her request. There will be other interactions with the Gentiles – the Samaritan woman at the well and the Centurion asking Jesus to cure his servant. He realizes that his ministry needs to include the Gentiles.

This unnamed Canaanite woman is a strong woman. We have known many strong women in our own history, but think about other women described in the New Testament. Mary, the mother of Jesus comes to mind first. All through the 30 years of her son’s life, she watched and worried: He was lost in Jerusalem, he was aggravating the Scribes and Pharisees, he was arrested, beaten and hung on a cross where she stood firmly, watching it all.

There was the Samaritan woman engaged and changed by her conversation with this Jewish man. The repentant woman was so grateful for his loving forgiveness that she washed his feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. Then there was Martha, almost scolding Jesus for not being there when her brother Lazarus was dying and finally, Mary Magdalen, searching for his body, determined to give it a proper burial. 

I like the way Jadine Lydia has captured the essence of a strong woman.

“She knew, there was
only one way out.
Not over, not under,
but through.
And so she took a deep breath,
dived right in and emerged
as something new.”

What can we learn from this Canaanite woman? She loved her child and that love empowered her to seek a cure even in the face of discrimination. This humble woman, a Gentile, had courage and perseverance. She wasn’t about to take no for an answer because of her love for her daughter. She trusted that what she had heard about Jesus was true. He saw her faith and could not resist. She went “not over, not under, but through.”

What do we learn from Jesus? We learn that everyone is worthy of our love. This includes the unwashed, murderers, rapists, child-abusers, war mongers, certain politicians – and anyone else that we may consider to be riffraff – is still worthy of our love.  Jesus reached out to lepers, tax-collectors, the elites, prostitutes and all manner of saints and sinners.   

I think of so many women in today’s world who have enormous strength and courage in the midst of so much destruction. I think of Russian and Ukrainian  mothers and wives who have lost loved ones in war. I think of mothers holding a child who is dying of starvation in their lap and widows trying to survive in Gaza. I think of women searching for their loved ones after earthquakes, fires or floods.

If we can move “not over or under but through” the difficult moments in our lives, we can become  stronger, perhaps wiser and more compassionate. We may even be surprised at our own strength.  I think when it happens to us, it is an experience of resurrection, of rising up again from the ashes.