I preached this sermon on Matthew 15:21–28 at Redeemer Church, 10.13.24.

I have one main point this morning, and it is this: Crying out to Jesus is never wasted breath even when you have good reasons to think that it is. There are three parts to that sentence. There’s a topic or a subject that’s in focus. There’s an emphatically negated predicate and a dependent clause. Each part is important, but I really want you to hear the little dependent clause again. So let’s run back through each part.

First, the topic: crying out to Jesus. As I teach high school students the story of God — That’s the tile of our ninth grade class — I am struck by how frequently this is the action that God responds to. In the Exodus as Israel is oppressed in Egypt, in the dark period of the Judges, in the book of Samuel, as Israel is oppressed by the Philistines. Each time — whether they are suffering unjustly or because it is their fault, because of their sin, in both situations — people cry out, and God responds. The topic this morning is crying out to Jesus, and I want to say only one thing about it.

Crying out to Jesus is never wasted breath. I don’t think anyone in this room would actually say, “Crying out to Jesus is wasted breath.” So why make that sentence the main point of a sermon? I think we all realize that regardless of what we are willing to say out loud, we all think and act like it is wasted breath to cry out to Jesus — not all the time, but more than we would like to admit. Why is that? Why would we do that?

Our kids have problems, our students have questions, students don’t ask for help, kids end up in tears because they feel like they they are all alone, and when we find out what’s going on what do we say? “Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you ask for help?” And yet here we are, reluctant to do the same with the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. Why?

Because we have good reasons to think it is wasted breath, real reasons. I don’t want to criticize the reasons this morning, the reasons that block us from calling out. We have really good reasons to not call out to Jesus.

Now, into that tension comes the little dependent clause. Do you remember what it is? Matthew 15:21–28 says that crying out to Jesus is never wasted breath even when we have good reasons to think it is. You can have really good reasons to not call out and do it anyway, and you can be confident that it won’t be wasted breath. There is, in fact, no better use of breath — right in the face of those good reasons to stay quiet.

In Matthew 15:21–28, we are going to see a woman with five good reasons to not call out to Jesus, and yes, she does it anyway. First, the setting is important.

Setting

In the first four chapters of Matthew, God the Father moves from the background to the foreground. As you read Matthew, first, you are reminded, through a genealogy, that the Father has been working within his people Israel since the story started in Genesis. You turn the first page of Matthew, and the Spirit is hovering over a particular obscure little family, with a mom and dad named Joseph and Mary. God the Father sends messengers and stars to guide Joseph and Mary and the magi, frustrating the plans of king Herod. Through these messengers, the Father ushers in his own king, framed as son of David, son of Abraham.

John appears and baptizes Jesus, and just as he does you hear the voice of the Father himself speak right there in the foreground of the story. The Father declares Jesus his beloved Son, the object of his delight. The deceiver tries to lead Jesus astray, like he did Adam, to no avail.

In chapters 5–9, you listen and watch as Jesus proclaims the kingdom of God in word and in deed — the Sermon on the Mount in chapters 5–7 and miracle after miracle in chapters 8–9. At least some people are intrigued and follow Jesus, and Jesus sends them out in chapter 10 to do the same things he has been doing — proclaiming the kingdom in word and deed.

Things change in chapter 11. John is in prison, and suddenly he isn’t so sure. He has good reasons — prison, discomfort, no doubt pain — good reasons to think that Jesus might not be the one. Confusion sets into the story world like a fog.

In chapter 12, it’s more than confusion. In chapter 12, it’s sharp conflict. In fact, the religious leaders begin plotting to kill Jesus. It’s at this point, as the confusion and conflict reach a fever pitch, that Matthew quotes Isaiah to reassure you, the reader, that Jesus is truly God’s beloved servant in whom he delights, despite the confusion and conflict.

Throughout the Gospel, the confusing, conflicting tension builds and Matthew just keeps speaking to you, the reader: None of that conflict or confusion changes anything. Jesus is the one who can save his people from their sins and all the fallout that comes from it.

Jesus responds in chapter 13, by telling parables, parables that help explain his way in the world for those who want to understand, and in chapter 14, John shows back up — or I should say the memory of John. John’s dead, but Herod hears rumors of what all Jesus is doing and he’s afraid that John has risen from the dead.

Now we are close to our passage. When Jesus heard about John’s death, Jesus withdrew. Repeatedly, in this section Jesus withdraws — twice in chapter fourteen Jesus withdrew to unexpected places in order to work with unexpected people. This is the Father’s king, twice introduced so far as the embodied object of God’s delight, and yet he is withdrawing outside of the spotlight. This is the place where our story picks up, a third instance of withdrawal.

Matthew 15:21–22 says,

And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came …

In Genesis through Kings, Canaanites are listed 17 times as people with whom Israel would be in conflict. But the kicker is this: There were no Canaanites in the first century AD. “Canaanites” would be like speaking of Trojans or the knights of King Arthur in 2024. The region this woman is from, Tyre and Sidon, was at one time Canaanite territory, but Mark doesn’t call her a Canaanite. Mark calls her Syrophoenician, which reflects the place names that are more “modern” to the first century, Syria and Phoenicia. It’s just Matthew that uses the name associated with Israel’s ancient enemies.

What’s the point? This is good reason number 1. This woman is on the outskirts. She’s a woman whom Matthew characterizes as a Canaanite, an enemy. That’s at least one maybe two or three good reasons that she has, good reasons to think that crying out to Jesus would be wasted breath.

Movement 1

The Canaanite woman cries out anyway. Verse 22,

And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! My daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.”

She does it anyway. She addressed Jesus as Lord, son of David, and she asks for mercy because her daughter is suffering. She does everything right here, but look at how Jesus responds. Look at the book. What does he do? Verse 23,

But he did not answer her a word.

That’s good reason number 2: She tried, and got no response. Not a word.

Movement 2

Verse 23 keeps going:

And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.”

People who are actual followers of Jesus find this woman annoying. Do you see the reasons piling up? This is at least number 3. She’s a woman who is a “Canaanite,” an enemy — one. She tried to do the right thing, and Jesus himself didn’t just not answer — he answered not one word. That’s the second good reason to stay quiet. Third, Jesus’s own people think she is annoying.

Movement 3

In verse 24, Jesus does speak. Look at verse 24. He responds! He answers! But, oh my goodness, look at what he says,

I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

Four! Four good reasons, now. She got no word of a response, and then when the Lord finally addresses the situation he says, “My mission is not for you.” Why would he do that? How could he say that? Who is this? This is Jesus! What is happening?

The good reasons are piling up.

Movement 4

Look at verses 25–26,

But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” And he answered, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”

What in the world? This is where you take your stuff and go home or you distract yourself with something to numb yourself, right? There is no help here, lady, right? If this isn’t a good reason to keep your breath and your cries to yourself, what is? She said a help me prayer, and Jesus called her a dog. It’s right there in verse 26. He said it. That’s five good reasons. What in the world?!

Shawshank

What you imagine right here, at this point in the story, depends utterly on how well you know Jesus. Have you ever had a friend do something outrageous and maybe you laugh, but everyone around you is shocked and their jaw is dropping with surprise? You laugh because you know your friend.

Maybe it’s the opposite. The friend does something and everyone laughs like your friend is crazy, but you know him or her and you react the opposite. You’re like: I can’t believe they are reacting like this! They don’t get what he means! We have experiences that help us understand what Jesus might be up to.

One of my favorite movies is The Shawshank Redemption. It’s not the favorite. That’s reserved for Good Will Hunting — always and forever number one, but Shawshank has been in the top 5 for as long as I can remember. So when I heard an acquaintance of mine — someone I went to school with — on a podcast a couple years ago talking about this passage in light of Shawshank, I was all ears.¹

For those of you who aren’t familiar, The Shawshank Redemption is a movie about Andy Dufresne. Andy is unjustly sentenced to life in the Shawshank State Penitentiary. Two decades of his life go by. Andy suffers; he’s such a good guy, and he suffers. He’s not big and muscular. He becomes tough, but not like that. Later in the movie Andy starts an education program within the penitentiary. He helps “fellas,” as we’ll hear them called in a minute, fellas in prison, get their GED.

Enter another, much less main character, but one you love, too. His name is Tommy. Tommy is young, early twenties. He’s not the smartest. He’s simple, but he’s kind, and you just like him. He’s young and innocent. He’s in prison, but he’s innocent Tommy.

One day, Tommy approaches Andy, who is in the library. Tommy has a big smile, proud of himself for what he’s about to do. Andy is busy putting some books up, and Tommy says, “So, I was, I was thinking maybe … of trying for my high school equivalency, and I heard you helped a couple fellas with that.” All smiles! Waiting for Andy’s response. Do y’all know this scene?

Andy looks away, he starts putting books up again, and he says matter of factly, “I don’t waste time with losers, Tommy.” The smile drains off Tommy’s face. He moves quickly from being dumbfounded to anger. I can’t use Tommy’s exact language, but he steps to Andy, not in a threatening way, but confidently and emphatically affirms, “I ain’t no loser.”

As a movie watcher, you know! You know Andy, and you’re all in. You love this scene. You aren’t mortified that he would call Tommy a loser. You know what he’s doing, and you are waiting to cheer almost.

Andy turns to Tommy, and says, “You mean that?” “Yeah!” Tommy responds. “You really mean that?” “Yes, sir. I do.” Andy leans in, “Good. Because if we do this, we do it all the way. A hundred percent. Nothing half-way.”

Now you see fear on Tommy’s face. “The thing is, see … I don’t read so good.” “Well,” Andy says. Tommy’s confused. “You don’t read so well. We’ll get to that,” Andy says with just a slight smile, and before Tommy even knew what was happening he was being given what he asked for.

What was Andy doing that whole time? He was drawing out Tommy’s determination and his fear. That moment was formative for Tommy! It didn’t at all push him away. He wasn’t offended because he knew Andy Dufresne! It was a good thing, and you knew it was a good thing the whole time because you know who Andy is.

Movement 5

Who is Jesus? What’s he up to with this woman? Well, the Canaanite woman is listening really well. Kind of like how Tommy leaned in and was all in, she is listening really well to what Jesus is saying about dogs. She leans in and says, in verse 27,

“Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

Do you think she “one upped” Jesus and now his arm has been twisted into helping her? Maybe, just maybe, Jesus is pulling an Andy Drufresne?

Don’t miss the fact that she listened to Jesus. She had five good reasons to walk away, but she listened to the Lord (1) even though she was an outsider, (2) even when he didn’t respond, (3) even when Jesus’s people thought she was annoying, (4) even when his first response seemed to exclude her, (5) even when he spoke directly to her with words that on the surface seemed harsh. She kept listening, trusting that whatever the good reasons, Jesus would help. And he does.

Verse 28: Jesus rejoices over this very woman.

Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed from that hour.

I want to close with five encouragements.

Encouragement 1

Cry out to Jesus even when he is silent. In the history of interpretation of this passage there are two main ways people go: They EITHER emphasize the fact that in this story we get a foreshadowing of what is going to happen at the end of Matthew, where Jesus tells his disciples to take his teaching and the Spirit to all nations, OR they emphasize the woman’s faith that Jesus rejoices over. BOTH aspects of the story open up the call to you. Jesus’s presence, his mission, his call is for you, a person from Georgia, not an ancient Israelite, and the way you respond is with faith, by calling out even in moments when you have good reason to think it will be wasted breath. Don’t let the silence keep you from crying out. Cry out to Jesus even when he is silent.

Encouragement 2

Cry out to Jesus even when his followers push you away. We experience real pain and disappointment in the church, just like this woman. Jesus’s disciples — the apostles themselves — thought she was annoying, and for all we know she was. But that didn’t stop her either. Don’t let people, even church people, keep you from clinging to the body of Christ and crying out to him.

Encouragement 3

Cry out to Jesus despite fears that he might consider you annoying. This point is different than the last one. You might be tempted to think that you will be annoying to God if you keep asking him to help. Maybe this comes from your past experience with siblings or parents, someone in your family or friend circle. I try my best to remind my kiddos often that when I’m irritable they must not think this reflects the character of God. I’m limited; your parents and family are limited, frail human beings who are often annoyed because of their limitations. God isn’t. He told parables explicitly encouraging repeated asking, day or night. Seek Jesus despite fears that he might think you are annoying. He doesn’t.

Encouragement 4

Cry out to Jesus even if you think you aren’t on his radar and you know you aren’t somebody special. If you think Jesus doesn’t care, or that you are too small to matter, that sounds like a pretty good reason to not waste your breath talking to him. This woman in Matthew 15 had every reason to think she was not on his radar. She knew he was the Messiah, somehow, the Son of David — that’s Jewish Messiah language through and through. She knew he was somebody, and Matthew goes out of his way to tell you that she was not somebody. What I love about the Bible — whether it is Moses at the burning bush in Exodus or Jesus in Matthew — is that the Bible doesn’t tell you that you have to be somebody. It doesn’t tell you that you have to believe you can do it. You don’t have to believe in yourself. Yes! Thank God! I don’t want to be told “believe in yourself” because I know that is fake. The Canaanite woman was out there, on the outskirts, an enemy, and she cried out anyway, repeatedly, and Jesus rejoiced over her faith and granted her request. You can do the same.

Encouragement 5

Take a posture of submission and listen as you wait. You may be tempted to say, “I don’t deserve this silent treatment.” Or, “Why would he make me wait so long if he’s actually hearing me and can help.” I don’t know what he’s doing because I’m like you. We have such a limited perspective. The call is to be like this Canaanite woman. She bowed before Jesus and never stopped listening. She took his words, his metaphors, his reasoning, and she talked to him. Listen to his words, and talk to him. It is never wasted breath to cry out to Jesus even when you have good reason to think it is. There is, in fact, no better use of breath.

Remember that you do not know when God will turn and respond with rejoicing, and that is good news. You never know. If you read the Bible and listen to God speak, you will see that he’s in the business of doing exactly what people think he won’t do when they think he won’t do it. Cry out and wait expectantly for Jesus to turn to you with a smile and say: “Great is your faith. You can have what you desire.” And her daughter was healed from that hour.

☩ In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit ☩

1. You can listen to the Two Testaments podcast here, where Patrick Schreiner so helpfully points to Shawshank. ↩