No?

             Jesus left that place and went to the vicinity of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet he could not keep his presence secret. 

             In fact, as soon as she heard about him, a woman whose little daughter was possessed by an impure spirit came and fell at his feet. The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter.

            “First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

            “Lord,” she replied, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

            Then he told her, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.”

            She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon gone. (Mark 7:24-30)

 

             Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is demon-possessed and suffering terribly.”

            Jesus did not answer a word.

            So his disciples came to him and urged him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.”

             He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

            The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said.

            He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

            “Yes it is, Lord,” she said. “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

            Then Jesus said to her, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed at that moment. (Matthew 15:21-28)

 

            This is one of my favorite stories in the Gospels, but it’s only when you put the accounts together that you get the full picture. Keep in mind that Jewish rabbis were expected to have nothing to do with gentiles or women in those days. In general, women had to learn ways to get men to do their bidding. Bargaining was the order of the day when one wanted something – and she was Greek, meaning not only gentile but of a culture that prided itself on its philosophical and mental acuity.

            Four times this woman appeals to Jesus. He “ignores” her. The disciples plead with Him to send her away. He tells her he was sent to the lost sheep of Israel. He apparently went into a house, and she barged into appeal again. He tells her it’s not right to feed the children’s bread to the dogs, and she answers Him in a way that leads to His doing what she wanted.

            Four times, the disciples are given a chance to respond according to Jesus’ earlier teaching, and four times they fail. But four times, He either doesn’t answer or says something negative, and she keeps on because in none of those four times does He say, “No. Go away.” She doesn’t give up, which makes her one of the people I want to meet in Heaven.

            But loving her doesn’t mean I’ve learned the lesson she learned or knew already. When God is silent, I usually think that what I want must (once again – as usual) not be God’s will. For me, silence equals no. When I look at Scripture and see that a promise was made to a specific individual or to Israel as a nation, I think that leaves me out. When God closes a door, I assume it’s locked and don’t even try it. I tend to give up when God (or someone on God’s behalf) gives me an excuse. Basically, somewhere along the line, I decided that anything other than, “Sure thing, Karen. I’ll get right on it!” means “No.”

            But when the roles are reversed? I seem to have two responses. The less frequent one is, “Sure thing, God. I’ll get right on it.” The more common I, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no…oh, OK.” Somehow, I expect God to understand that “No, no, no” isn’t final. Even “No, no, no, no, no, no” isn’t final. I expect Him to come back to wait until I get the idea worked through my mind and heart. Of course, I say this is because I’m imperfect, and He’s perfect. I take longer, and my delay isn’t really rebellion or even negative. He’s perfect. His answer should be clear, immediate, and final. But Scripture shows that He doesn’t work that way.

                All of this means that I need to pray like my daughter is possessed instead of like someone to whom the answer really doesn’t matter.