Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

When God Seems Silent

There are times in almost everyone’s life when we wonder, “Is there really a place for me?” Maybe we have made mistakes. Maybe we have been away from the Church for a long time. Maybe our life has not turned out the way we expected. Maybe we look around and think everyone else has it together and we are the ones standing outside the door.

That is why today’s readings are so important. Isaiah says that God’s house will be “a house of prayer for all peoples.” Not just for the people who have everything together. Not just for the people who have always done everything right. For all peoples.

And then we meet this Canaanite woman in the Gospel. She really is an outsider. She is not part of the people of Israel. When she comes to Jesus asking him to heal her daughter, at first Jesus says nothing. Imagine how that must have felt. She cries out to God, and God seems silent.

Some of us know exactly what that feels like. We have prayed for someone who is sick. We have prayed for a child or grandchild who has walked away from the Church. We have prayed for something happening in our family. We have asked God again and again, and nothing seems to happen.

But this woman does something very important. She stays. Even when Jesus is silent, she stays. Even when the disciples want to send her away, she stays. Finally, she says one of the simplest prayers in the entire Gospel: “Lord, help me.” Sometimes that is all the prayer we have left. Lord, help me. And that is enough.

Jesus finally looks at this woman whom everyone else considered an outsider and says, “O woman, great is your faith!” The disciples saw someone who did not belong. Jesus saw faith.

Sometimes we are the ones who put ourselves on the outside. We look at our past. We remember our failures. We think about how long it has been since we really prayed, or how far we may have wandered from God, and we begin to wonder whether there is still a place for us. But Isaiah gives us this wonderful image: God’s house is “a house of prayer for all peoples.” There is room for us, not because we have earned our place, but because God is merciful.

I recently met an 87-year-old man from another Christian tradition who told me about the many men he has invited over the years to come closer to Christ. He took no credit for what happened in their lives. He simply invited them and then let God do the rest. Sometimes God uses us to help someone else discover that there is room for them too. We do not have to change anyone. We simply have to be willing to invite.

St. Paul reminds us that every one of us finally stands in the same place: in need of God’s mercy. None of us earned our place at this table. We were invited.

So if you find yourself feeling a little like that Canaanite woman, standing on the outside and wondering whether God still hears you, remember her. Stay. Keep praying. And if all you can manage is three words, let them be hers: “Lord, help me.”

Sometimes the person who thinks they are standing farthest from God may be much closer to him than they realize. This woman thought she was an outsider. The disciples treated her like an outsider. But Jesus saw what they could not see—her faith.

We may feel far from God because of our past, because of our failures, or simply because our prayers seem to go unanswered. But feeling far from God does not mean that God is far from us. Sometimes simply continuing to pray, continuing to come back, continuing to say, “Lord, help me,” is itself a sign of a faith much greater than we realize.