I was surprised not long ago when I opened a popular church periodical and came across an article with a blaring headline: “Too Much Bible Study?” it questioned. What? Is there such a thing as too much Bible study? I am involved in several Bible study groups myself and find them both stimulating and comforting. I discover that we are talking a great deal not only about scripture, but also about other spiritual matters. And these groups also build fellowship and understanding among the group members.

Feeling a bit defensive, I, nevertheless, decided to read the article and hear what this author had to say on the topic of too much Bible study. Of course, headlines are often ambiguous, and this one proved to be mildly misleading as well. For the author, Travis Du Priest, said that what he had in mind by “too much” was probably better expressed by “Bible study only.” As I read on, I found myself agreeing that a person might have “too much” Bible study if he or she neglected other practices of spiritual formation, such as worship and prayer.

It was in this mood that I embarked on reading the scripture assigned for today and writing a sermon in response. Matthew’s story of the Canaanite woman is thought provoking in several respects. First, the woman, who could symbolize all Gentiles or foreigners or aliens for us, is desperate. Her child is suffering; she is frantic with fear and dread. She cries out to this Jew who has healed many others. And what does our savior do? He ignores her. The disciples encourage him to send her away. After all, Jesus’ mission is to the Jews, to the chosen of God. He doesn’t have enough time to answer all the needs of the Jews, of his own kind. There are plenty of Jews who are desperate, too. And, for a moment, we see an unusual side of Jesus. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” he tells her. What a strange remark from the One who embodies compassion. Was he testing the disciples to see if they would agree and then he could make a point? Was he testing the woman to see how diligent she would be in her pleadings? Or was he simply tired himself? Was he being human? Can we allow him be human?

Whatever the reason, he did rebuff her. But she was not going to be dismissed. She begged him for his help. Even when he spoke to her in degrading terms: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs,” she was not to be rejected. What courage, what desperation, what love it must have taken for her to reply, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

And then, Jesus responded, “Woman, great is your faith!” And her daughter was healed.

Jesus did not say, “Great is your knowledge of me.” He didn’t say, “Great are your comparisons of me with other great rabbis.” He didn’t say, “Great is your skill in uncovering the meanings of my parables.” Nor did he commend her on her dedication to scholarship or on her background study of the knowledge of his ability to heal. He spoke to her about the greatness of her faith.

Jesus’ response regarding faith raises two more questions for us. First, what does Jesus mean by faith? And, second, where does this faith come from? Probably the most famous definition of faith is found in the Letter to the Hebrews, Chapter 11: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.” We can’t see faith with our eyes and we can’t prove it by science. So, where do we find the conviction of that which we cannot see or prove? From reading the Bible? Maybe. From prayer? OK. From worship, from the sacrament? Perhaps.

But, no matter what we do to grow closer to God, to gain the faith that will give us the peace that passes all understanding, the assurance of the things we hope for, we come to the place where we make a personal decision. . . a personal decision. I look at it like this: all the Bible study, all the knowledge of history and theology, all the information that we assimilate will take us the edge of the precipice of faith, beyond which lies the chasm of doubt. On the other side of the chasm is faith itself, true belief, commitment to Christ, communion with Christ. At the core of human identity there is what Blaise Pascal described as a God-shaped vacuum or hole. We are never really ourselves, he says, until that hole is filled. Once we recognize the hole within us, we are overwhelmed by a desire to fill it with the one thing that fits. It is this longing that eventually nudges us to make the move to faith. For some this prod comes at a time of crisis; for others it comes after prayer and discernment; many cannot even name the time when they became determined to give in to God. When we make the decision to leap over the chasm of doubt, we will be supported by God’s love for us, and we will land safely on that plateau of faith. The most difficult part of this journey is the decision, for when we resolve to make that leap of faith, to fill that hole of longing within us, we must give up control. And we resist giving up control because of the almost universal belief that we should be responsible for ourselves, that we can direct our own destiny, that if we don’t look out for ourselves, who will? The answer is, of course, that when it comes to our eternal life, God will look out for us. That’s the point. When we submit to God, when we give up our lives to Him, when we let Him be in control, we move to faith.

Let us consider again the Canaanite woman. She had probably heard a great deal about this rabbi who went around performing miracles and healing those who were in great suffering. She had listened to stories about him. But the stories alone did not comprise her faith. At some point, this woman had moved from an interest in Jesus to a belief in Jesus, to the conviction that he was in control. And then she pursued him. In the same way, once we make the move from being attracted to Jesus and intellectually fascinated with the history surrounding his story to the commitment of faith, then we can enter into Bible study with renewed interest, with excitement and enthusiasm, for when we have committed to Christ, we can’t get enough of Him. And that includes in-depth Bible study both by ourselves and in groups, lively discussion of scripture with others who care, and renewed commitment to prayer, worship and participation in the Eucharist. Faith brings new meaning to all these activities and a release from the tension that comes from trying to retain control. And it is by faith that we are liberated, we are empowered, we are encouraged, and we are healed.