Crisis of Faith/Crisis of Love

by Fr. Thomas Keating

Chapter 4

The Purification of Faith

By refusing the request of the royal official to go to heal his son, Jesus gave him the opportunity to rise to a higher degree of faith. The centurion was a man in almost exactly the same outward situation as the royal official. He also had someone, his slave, whom he wanted Jesus to cure. Instead of refusing to go down, Jesus showed himself most willing and eager to oblige. He did this in order to give the centurion the opportunity to manifest the magnificent faith he had in the power of Jesus’ word alone. It also gave Jesus the opportunity to bring that extraordinary faith to the attention of his disciples.

Now let us take a look at somebody who had even greater faith. This event will bring us even closer to the meaning and purpose of the crisis of faith.

Jesus had withdrawn into the neighborhood of Tyre and Sidon, a country outside the confines of Israel. Out of that district came a Canaanite woman.¹¹  She was a gentile. At this time of sacred history, gentiles had no right to the privileges of the children of Israel. But somehow she had found faith in Jesus and as the story unfolds, she exercised it to a most extraordinary degree.

She pleaded with Him, “Have pity on me, Master, Son of David!” (This messianic indicates that she believed in Jesus as the Messiah.) “My daughter is sorely tempted by a demon.”

“But in answer to her request he did not say a word.”

Certainly not much of a reply! At least the other two people got an answer. This woman gets nothing.

The greater your faith, the slower may be the reply to your prayers. God knows he can take his time with you and busies himself with other, less fortunate people—although at such a time you may feel yourself to be the most unfortunate of all.

 Evidently she did not let his apparent refusal bother her because she next appeals to the disciples. She chose some intercessors for herself, and with considerable success, because the disciples took up her cause with Jesus saying: “Let her go home contented, she cries so after us.”

I am trying to uncover the dispositions of a soul who is appealing to Jesus with faith and receiving only silence in reply. Notice, it is not only silence, but coldness. His reply to the disciples was, “My mission is exclusively to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

In other words, “Nothing doing.”

It is not so different from the reply Mary received at the wedding of Cana. The wine was running out. A very embarrassing situation was developing fast. She laid the necessity of these newlyweds before Jesus. But he protested, “My hour is not yet come.”¹² In other words, apparent refusal.

Mary did not hesitate to say quietly to the waiters, “In case he should change his mind, be sure to do whatever he says.”

The Canaanite woman evidently has a similar faith. She understood Jesus to say “no” as clearly as Mary did; but “she herself came and prostrated herself.” She understood him to mean “no” on one level, but she thought, “Perhaps if I get down on a lower level, I can get a new hearing.”

So she prostrated. She got all the way down, completely flat, so that she could not get any lower.

Here are her words: “Master, help me!”

Who, even you and I, as hardhearted as we are, would not have said, “There, there, it’s not so bad. Maybe I can do something for you after all.”

 But, “He demurred.” There is still no apparent sign of pity, mercy, or human kindness. He just said, “No!”

This poor creature has received as an answer to her prayer only silence, coldness, and refusal.

Now comes the rebuff. “It is not fair,” he said “to take the children’s bread and throw it to dogs.”

Here is a woman completely spread out at his feet, in a position which Jesus takes full cognizance of, because he says he does not want to take the bread and throw it on the floor where she is lying waiting to receive it. If that is not a stinging rebuff to a simple, straightforward human appeal, I do not know what more you want.

Jesus knows the material with which he is dealing. He is dealing with a woman of extraordinary dispositions. Gradually he leads her on from one peak of faith to another. But notice his method: silence, coldness, rebuff, and humiliation.

What is her reply to this indignity?

She said, “You are right, Master.” She accepts the humiliation. “You are dead right, it would be wrong to take the children’s bread and throw it to dogs. No argument whatsoever. I agree with you wholeheartedly.”

And then comes one of those answers which the Holy Spirit inspires, one of those marvelous distinctions which comes from no human wisdom however exalted. It is one of those exalted distinctions that only love can come up with. After having fully accepted the humiliation, her position there on the ground, and his apparent refusal, here is her reply: “It is true, everything you say, Lord. But how about this? The dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

In other words, “I’m not asking for food that I acknowledge that I deserve. I have no right to it. But after the children have eaten, aren’t there always a few crumbs left over? How about dropping me some of these? And not some that you throw me, but some that just fall by accident off the table? And here I am down on the ground. Maybe I can catch one. What do you say?”

This woman unquestionably fathomed the strange conduct of Jesus towards her. She was not a Jew. She had no instruction except from the Holy Spirit. But with his help she completely conquered the heart of Jesus.

The text reads, “Jesus acquiesced.” He was beaten at his own game. But with great pleasure, because he cried out in delight, “O woman, great is your faith! . . . you can have anything you want!”

This heroic act of faith was what Jesus was waiting for. Had he acceded right away, granted her petition at the first or second request, she would never have risen to these heights. There is no way to spiritual maturity, to growth in faith, except by this road.

Who is this daughter who was so “sorely tempted by a demon?” It might not be too farfetched to consider the daughter as a symbol of what Paul calls, “the physical part of our being,”¹³ which is truly tormented by a demon at this crisis in our lives when we go to God and his former tenderness, sweetness, and whatever else we may have received, are turned to dust and ashes. The more we plead, the less we seem to be heard. The lower we crawl in the dust, the more he seems to suggest getting lower. It is the cry from a heart that is really serving God which Jesus seems to turn down here. Why? Because we are “unprofitable servants” and have no right to the “food of the children.” We have no right to anything in the order of grace. It is precisely by facing up to this reality that we pass from confidence in our own merits to faith in his mercy. As soon as she acknowledged that she had no right to the food, she got not only a crumb, but the whole banquet. That is the substance of the crisis of faith—and its resolution.

How many can take those long weeks, months, and perhaps years of praying and apparently receiving nothing? First we are driven to our knees, then to our hands and knees, then down on our stomachs with our faces in the dust. How many can go through this without wavering in the hope that God is going to answer their prayers, give them control over their rebellious passions, and establish them in union with Christ?

The Canaanite woman had the kind of faith which penetrates the clouds. She would not take any kind of refusal as a real refusal, as a real “no.” She kept on praying with ever-increasing faith. The more she was tried, the more she placed her trust in Jesus, until she finally achieved her goal and got all she wanted.

This is the disposition God waits for in the crisis of faith: trust in his mercy no matter what kind of treatment we receive. Only great faith can penetrate those apparent rebuffs, comprehend the love that inspires them, and totally surrender to it.

Footnotes:
[11]  Matthew 15:21-28
[12]  John 2:4
[13]  2 Corinthians 4:16

More information can be obtained by reading the book Crisis of Faith/Crisis of Love by Fr. Thomas Keating.  It is offered in our bookstore.