Today’s readings provide us with a profound perspective on God’s mercy, the distinction between true prophecy and false promises, and the boundless power of faith. In our first reading from Jeremiah, we encounter a God who passionately reconnects with His people, offering them hope after a harrowing period of exile. The voice of the Lord proclaims, “I will be the God of all the tribes of Israel, and they shall be my people.” This is not merely a reassurance but a divine covenant between God and his people.
The prophetic voice of Jeremiah stands in stark contrast to that of Hananiah, the false prophet who we read about a couple of days ago in our Liturgy of the Word, who claimed a swift deliverance and a restoration without addressing the need for repentance or genuine transformation within the hearts of the people. While Jeremiah speaks of a rebuilding that presupposes a journey through the desert—a place of trial and purification—Hananiah offers a shortcut, a reduction of God’s promises to simplistic assurances devoid of substance. In the end, it is Jeremiah's prophecy that resonates with authenticity, speaking both to the realities of pain and the promise of restoration.
This chapter of prophecy speaks to the remnant of Israel—those who have endured the sword and found favor amid desolation. It is a powerful reminder that God’s mercy and love often shine brightest in our darkest moments. The image in Jeremiah is one of rebuilding, dancing, joy, and a renewed call to community—“Let us go to Zion, to the LORD, our God.” Here lies the heart of true prophecy: it encapsulates the hope of renewal wrapped in the reality of struggle.
In the Gospel of Matthew, the encounter between Jesus and the Canaanite woman offers us a beautiful and challenging moment. Initially, Jesus responds to her pleas by first appearing to ignore them, and then by highlighting the priority of His mission to the lost sheep of Israel and rejecting her, and then finally he insults her by comparing her to a “dog,” an image often used to describe non-Jews. However, her response reveals a profound truth about why it is God doesn’t answer all prayers as immediately as we would like. When we ask for things and they are not immediately given to us—especially the serious things, and we can certainly say this woman’s plea on behalf of her daughter was serious—we tend to sometimes give up, or let skepticism get a hold of us. It can even take the extreme and irrational form of, “I prayed, there was no response, therefore God doesn’t exist.” And yet, God may be schooling us in some all-important virtue like patience, or perseverance. When a coach allows their athlete to run the extra and often grueling distance above and beyond the parameters which will be present at the actual competition, it’s only because they are trying to bring out the best from their athlete. This is what Jesus was doing with this woman whom he alone most profoundly knew, better than anyone else knew her, in fact, better than she knew herself. He saw that she was a woman of great faith, had a lot of courage, and was heroic in her love for her daughter, but that had he granted her the petition immediately, all of that splendour in God’s eyes, would have remained hidden from everyone else present that day, who really needed a lesson on perseverance. And the lesson was taught by this woman. “Even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters,” she boldly proclaims. How powerfully this whole scene must have touched the apostles, and the Divine Master, our Blessed Lord, was that perfect coach, helping to bring out the best in her, which would have otherwise remained hidden and lost.
This woman embodies the kind of faith that Jeremiah foretold—a faith that looks beyond current circumstances and understands God’s love and mercy as expansive enough to include all of creation. Her faith did not rest on entitlement or privileges; rather, it was deeply relational and grounded in a recognition of God's goodness. Jesus’ eventual response commends her great faith and affirms that God's healing and saving grace knows no boundaries.
As we reflect on these readings, let us remember that just as God guided his chosen people through the desert, and as our Lord coached this mother in her sorrowful trial, so too we are never alone and
expected to make our journey without assistance and guidance. The question is whether or not we will be humble enough in those times when our Divine Coach will ask the extra mile from us. It may come in forms of him seemingly ignoring, rejecting or even insulting us… as sometimes he does have to insult our intelligence when it becomes arrogant, but in the end, he is trying to bring out the best in us—the children he so loves and accompanies.
May we have the courage, like the saints, to accept his guiding hand, even when it means some tough loving, because often times, that is the most constructive kind of love which leads us to many blessings and graces.
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