8 August 1984
El Trompillo, Bolivia

My dear Sisters,

A few years ago I recall seeing a very touching film about an orphan boy who was trying to survive in the world. He had as his motto in life: Do not take no for an answer. I thought of this film when I was reflecting on this Gospel to which we have just listened. On this particular occasion Our Lord was outside His own country, and the woman, who approached Him to ask a favor, was not an Israelite. Our Lord refused her request. She was determined that she would not take no for an answer. She persisted. There is a slight suggestion of humor in this Gospel passage. Our Lord said it was not right to give the bread of the children to the dogs (I wonder, was there a suggestion of a smile on Our Lord's face when He spoke about children, surrounded as He was by His strong, healthy Apostles who wanted to get rid of this woman). It is possible, too, that the woman picked up Our Lord's humor when she replied: "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table." (Mt 15:27).

Picking up that phrase of the woman in today's Gospel, allow me to reflect on the St. of the day whose name means "the dog of the Lord." St. Dominic is often represented by a star and a dog with a torch in its mouth. Whenever I pass by the Basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome, I think of St. Dominic and St. Francis of Assisi. Both these Saints are said to have met each other in that Church during the Fourth Lateran Council. In a little book, called The Flowers of St. Francis, which is associated with the great Saint of Assisi, the soul of the faithful Christian is compared to a dog who is attached to its master. A faithful dog will lie for hours outside a house into which his master has entered, waiting patiently for him to come out again. The image is a very useful one. It reminds us of that line in the psalm: "My soul is waiting for the Lord; I count on His word." (Ps 130:6). If we could absorb the spirituality of that single line of the psalm, there would be much more peace in our lives. We spend so much time fretting about the future because we have not learned to wait on the Lord. The darkness and dryness we experience in prayer at times is all the more painful because we cannot lie patiently, like dogs, waiting for the return of Our Lord. St. Vincent's insistence on the wisdom of taking decisions slowly and of not anticipating the Providence of God was the fruit, I feel, of knowing how to wait on the Lord. "My soul is waiting on the Lord; I count on His word." (Ibid.).