Second Sunday in Lent (Reminiscere) – February 25th, 2024
Trinity Ev. Lutheran Church, Block, Kansas
Rev. Joshua Woelmer
Text: Genesis 32:22–32 and Matthew 15:21–28
“Struggling with God”
Theme: Faith is sometimes difficult, a struggling with God to hold onto his promises.
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Our faith can give us many explanations for our life—and we should be very thankful for that. Many people have told me throughout the years that they don’t know how unbelievers get through life without having trust that God is watching over us, protecting us and staying with us always. There’s a lot of truth to that. Being Christian does give us hope in the midst of this life—hope for a deeper reality and hope for the life to come.
But for some people, faith is a struggle. Some people struggle with the intellectual doubts. I knew the son of a pastor who had some of these struggles. He was always delving into apologetics textbooks, always researching the proofs for God to combat atheistic arguments against God. We can see that as an external sort of struggle, similar to last week’s theme of struggle against the temptations of the devil.
But others struggle on a different level, something deeper than the emotions. It is a struggle to know that God loves them. And I know that we as Lutherans emphasize that God loves you—and that is great to do! That is the gospel that we all need to hear! But, we should also acknowledge that part of living in a sinful world is that we may at times have doubts or questions or worries that God may not love us or care about us. You who are sitting right there may have had or still have some of these thoughts.
I want to give you some encouragement that is deeper than someone coming up to you and saying, “Be happy! Jesus loves you!” We can eventually get there, but let’s see how God answers this in real time, so to speak.
I want to look at the two narratives that we have as our readings today. The first is concerning Jacob. He has just left Laban with two wives, two concubines, eleven children, and many herds and servants. He is going back home after many years away. The reason he left is because his brother Esau threatened to kill him for taking the blessing of their father, Isaac. On his way back home then, he hears that Esau is heading out to meet him. There is a lot of anxiety here. He is so afraid that he splits his camp so that Esau will only attack and destroy half of his possessions and family, but hopefully not find the other half in time. He also sends gifts ahead of him for Esau to receive and hopefully be placated.
This guy is nervous. He is scared. But Jacob needs to learn that his real struggle is not with his brother in this world. No. His real struggle is with God Himself. That is precisely what happens. God appears as a man—and by the way, we identify this with the Second Person of the Trinity, the Son of the Father, who would later become incarnate of the Virgin Mary and be born as Jesus.
This divine man wrestles with Jacob all night. Of course, he’s doing that thing that dads do when they wrestle their kids: they temper their actual power to teach a lesson of perseverance. Keep on going! You can do it! Pin me, pin me! Along the way, dads might use certain moves to escape or make things hard for a time. God touches Jacob’s hip and puts it out of joint while they wrestle, but Jacob continues and prevails. He receives a blessing—and a name change. His new name, Israel, means “he struggles with God.”
His descendants would be known by this name, for they too would struggle with God in the wilderness. They too would struggle to remember his promises and keep his laws. They would struggle against temptation and against doubt. And yet through their line, the Messiah would be born. The Son of God who wrestled with Israel would be born of Israel.
Jesus too would struggle with temptations by the devil and even with inner turmoil, even crying out to His Father, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (Matt 26:39). And “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt 27:46). Yet he too would pass through this trial of fire and be resurrected on the third day.
The Canaanite woman is another one who struggled with God. What’s amazing with her is that she had reasons why the Israelite Messiah would not hear her request to heal her demon-oppressed daughter. She was a woman in a time in world history when proper women didn’t approach men in public. Worse yet, she was a Canaanite—an enemy of Israel—a people of idolaters, called “dogs” by the Israelites.
She yells out, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon” (22). These are not Canaanite words. They are Israelites words, the words of promise. She believes in the Jewish Scriptures. She believes in the promises of the Old Testament prophets and that this Messiah stands before her. She believes in Jesus. And she cries out for mercy. How does Jesus answer her?
Well, he doesn’t. She said the right words, prayed the right prayer, but Jesus ignores her. Silence. Her pleas seem to fall on deaf ears. But she persists, relentlessly crying out, so that even Jesus’ disciples are begging him to do something about her.
What would you have done if you were the woman? What do you do when you are the woman? Jesus, your last and only hope, greets you with silence and even those who are with him are lobbying against you. As far as you can tell in your hour of need, Jesus turns his back against you and a deaf ear toward you. So what do you do? Do you leave?
You might be tempted to throw in the towel, but then Jesus finally speaks—not to you, though. Jesus speaks to his disciples, not even acknowledging her presence yet letting her overhear some of the harshest words to ever pass his lips, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of house of Israel” (24).
Now what? Will she hang her head and go home? Will she rebel against the one who has rejected her and insult him back? No. Instead, these difficult words of Jesus put her on her knees before the Lord in the posture of worship and crying out, “Lord, help me” (25).
Jesus answered, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” (26). Strike three. His silence was enough. His words to the disciples added insult to injury. Now, finally, Jesus addresses the Canaanite woman directly and calls her a dog. No doubt she had heard that racial slur before, in the marketplace and from other Israelite men and women. But from Jesus? From the one who calls himself the Good Shepherd? From the one who gathers those who are burdened by sin and pain and suffering?
This is her struggle. She thinks that her only hope has ignored her and insulted her. There’s two ways to respond. One is to be defensive and turn around and leave. The other is to repent. Repentance is to admit that God’s Law is true, and that even though it doesn’t feel like it, even though it doesn’t sound nice, God’s law is true and good. Repentance is the confession, “Yes, Lord, I am a dog. I wish it were not so, but it is as true as you have said it. I am by nature sinful and unclean, and I have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed.” That’s the first half of repentance—contrition and sorrow over sin.
The second half is faith. Thus, the confession continues, “Yes, Lord, I am a sinner. I have not loved You with my whole heart nor have I loved my neighbor as myself. I justly deserve to be treated like the dog that I am. For the sake of Jesus Christ, help me, Lord. I trust that in Your mercy You have given Your Son to die for me and not for my sake but for His You forgive me all my sin. I believe that You are forgiving and loving, and because of that even a dog like me will have enough if I could only lick up the crumbs on the floor underneath of your table. Those crumbs of God are good enough for me.”
This is the response of the Canaanite woman. She falls on his mercy. She knows that Jesus came as a Jew and spends much of his time among the Jews. But she needs his mercy. She needs his forgiveness and power, and so she asks for even a scrap of what he can do, because even a scrap of God’s power can heal her daughter. She still trusts even through what seems like rejection that Jesus loves the whole world, even her, even a Canaanite.
And then comes the end of the story. “O woman,” Jesus says, no longer speaking to her as a dog but addressing her with dignity and respect, “great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire” (28). And her daughter was healed instantly.
At times in our pilgrimage in this life, we find ourselves in her shoes or in Jacob’s shoes, suffering and struggling, trying to find the words of prayer that God will hear and answer. But sometimes, all we hear is silence. At times it seems like God hasn’t come for us, that he doesn’t care about our needs, and that even those who are with him are lobbying against us. At times we even hear God call us out for who we really are—sinners. It might seem like an insult.
But faith looks past all of that. Faith looks to the promises that God has made despite all the silence and suffering and sin. These promises sometimes look small, like scraps off food. But faith looks to even these scraps that God has given, for your sin has been forgiven by Jesus’s suffering and death. It does not remain before God’s eyes when he sees you.
Even though they seem small to the earthly eye, the eye of faith recognizes that so much is bound up in the promises of God. For if God gives the woman even a morsel of food for her faith, it is so great that her demon-possessed girl is healed. God does sustain you too by His Word, reminding you always that he loves you. Even though he may test you at times, he does so to strengthen your faith that you would learn to always run to him in times of trouble.
Here in church you see the kind of Jesus that you have. Even in the midst of this world and all of its suffering and pain, his love shines forth. You see how much he loves you. Here you see how much he values you. Bring your suffering and struggles and sin here, and then hear from Jesus as the Canaanite woman did these words: “O Christian, how great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.”
Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.
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