Homily 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A I Homily 16 August 2026 Year A

 

16 Aug Isaiah 56:1, 6-7; Romans 11:13-15, 29-32; Matthew 15:21-28

 

My dear friends today we celebrate the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A. Today’s readings remind us that God’s mercy has no boundaries and His love leaves no one outside—but learning to trust that mercy often requires us to cross the boundaries we have built in our own hearts.

The first reading taken from the prophet Isaiah comes from the period after the Babylonian exile, when the Israelites had returned to Jerusalem and were trying to rebuild their community and identity. Having suffered so much, there was a temptation to protect themselves by keeping outsiders at a distance. But Isaiah presents a different vision of God’s people. God says, “Maintain justice and do what is right.” He then makes an extraordinary promise: foreigners who love the Lord and keep his covenant will be welcomed into his house. Their offerings will be accepted, and God’s house will be called “a house of prayer for all peoples.” God’s family is bigger than our boundaries. God does not ask first, “Where are you from?” but “Do you love me and walk in my ways?” Belonging to God is not primarily about race, background, status or origin; it is about faithfulness and a heart turned towards God. God does not merely tolerate the outsider—he brings the outsider to the center. The foreigner is not given a second-class place but is welcomed into God’s own house. This reading poses a challenge before us today – Is there someone whom we have kept at the edges of our parish, community or heart? Sometimes the person we exclude may be the very person God wants us to welcome. The Church must become a place where people encounter not our barriers but God’s welcome. The Church becomes truly God’s house when nobody feels that they have to stand outside.

In the second reading taken from the letter of St. Paul to the Romans, St Paul reflects on the relationship between Jews and Gentiles. Paul himself is an apostle to the Gentiles, yet he deeply desires that his own people, Israel, may also recognize God’s saving work in Christ. He reminds us that God has not abandoned them: “The gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.” This is a powerful statement about God’s faithfulness. Human beings may change, fail, or turn away, but God does not withdraw His love or cancel His promises. His relationship with us is not based on our perfection but on His mercy. Paul then makes an even deeper point: God has allowed all people to experience disobedience so that He might show mercy to all. Salvation, therefore, is not something we earn or possess exclusively. It is a gift of God's mercy. This challenges us to look at people differently. We can easily label others as “good” or “bad,” “deserving” or “undeserving.” But God sees everyone through the eyes of mercy. Sometimes our greatest spiritual danger is not sin itself, but believing that God's mercy belongs to us more than to others. The Gospel invites us to become channels of the mercy we ourselves have received. The question before us is: Whom have I stopped believing God can still reach?

 Those of us who have watched Hindi movies, especially the older ones, have probably come across this familiar scene. The mother or wife of the hero is in a temple, fervently praying for a miracle—for the hero to be saved from the goons, or for something terrible to be prevented. There is dramatic music, tears, folded hands, perhaps a bell ringing in the background—and eventually, somehow, the prayer is answered and a miracle takes place! We see something similar in today’s Gospel, although in a much less dramatic fashion.

A Canaanite woman comes to Jesus with a prayer of desperation: “Lord, help me!”. Her daughter is suffering, and a mother’s pain gives her courage to cross every boundary. She is a foreigner, a woman and a Canaanite—someone whom Jewish society regarded as an outsider. Yet she approaches Jesus because she believes that mercy is possible. And then comes the difficult part of the Gospel. Jesus seems silent. The disciples want her sent away. Jesus says, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” When she continues to plead, Jesus says, “It is not right to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” What does Jesus mean by “dogs”? In ancient times, Greeks and other Gentiles were more comfortable keeping dogs as household pets than many Jewish people were. The Greek word Jesus uses is kynaria, which refers to small household dogs or pets, rather than wild or scavenging street dogs.  Dogs could be treated as part of the family and were sometimes fed while the family was eating. This helps us understand the woman’s reply: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” In other words, she is saying: “I am not asking You to take anything away from Israel. I believe that Your mercy is so abundant that even a crumb of it is enough to save my daughter.” God’s blessings are not limited to one group. There is enough of God’s mercy for everyone. And Jesus responds: “Woman, great is your faith!” This raises a deeper question: Can our faith change the mind of God? The Gospel seems to present Jesus as moving from refusal to granting her request. We must be careful, however, not to imagine God as someone who has to be persuaded to become merciful. God is already mercy. Prayer does not manipulate God; prayer opens us to God. Sometimes, therefore, prayer is neither simply surrender nor simply fighting with God. It is both. Like Jacob wrestling with God, or Jesus praying in Gethsemane, we bring our deepest desire before God: “Lord, this is what I desperately want.” But finally, we place it in His hands: “Yet Your will be done.”

The woman refuses to allow the boundaries people have placed around God's mercy to become boundaries in her own faith. Her faith teaches us to pray boldly without becoming presumptuous, to struggle with God without losing trust, and to surrender without giving up. Perhaps today we need to learn something from this woman. When God seems silent, will I still pray? When I feel like an outsider, will I still approach Him? And when I have received God's mercy, will I allow others to receive it too? Let us remind ourselves that God's table is bigger than our tables. God's mercy is bigger than our mercy. And God's family is bigger than our boundaries. May God bless us all.

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