Crumbs and Mercy
“Sir, Even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs” Mark 7: 28
Today’s Gospel passage is challenging.
It starts off pretty commonplace — a woman whose young daughter was ill had come to Jesus and bowed down at his feet seeking healing for her daughter. We have often heard stories of people coming to Jesus for healing— so this passage is not unusual in that regard—and also Jesus’ desire to be alone and to not let anyone know he was there, is a recurring theme throughout his time on earth — so again— not that unusual — but this story is peculiar because Jesus says something that we would not consider to be nice.
Jesus calls the woman who came to him a dog.
Mark tells us that this woman was a Gentile, and more than that, she was the worst kind of Gentile: A Syrophoenician Gentile, meaning that her ancestors were Canaanites and Moabites—historic enemies of the Jewish people. The woman begged Jesus to heal her daughter.
Jesus does something we’re not expecting; he says to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
It is surmised that Jesus was speaking about the Jewish people when he said, “Let the children be fed first”, but then, Jesus if the analogy holds, Jesus referred to the woman and others as dogs.
It is unsettling, because this our Messiah who spoke these words.
Whenever there is discomfort with a Biblical text, you will find a slew of well-meaning preachers and teachers trying to “make it okay”. To justify or explain away the text — the problem is here is that I don’t think it can be explained. He didn’t call her a “puppy”, an endearing term as some have said. Some have said it wasn’t as insulting back then as it is today —but that argument really does not hold up.
So, if the text does say what it appears to say, which I think it does, and if we believe (which we do), that God is loving and accepting of all people, and is not cruel, what do we make of Jesus’ response to this woman?
As the Letter of James reminds us, words do matter, so what about these words? And what about those words from James that “if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors?” Was not Jesus showing partiality and not wanting to serve this woman because she was a Gentile?
We believe and profess that Jesus is fully human and fully divine, and this week, we encounter Jesus in his full humanity.
Jesus was seemingly rude and dismissive of this woman.
But why?
Our text makes it clear that Jesus wants to be left alone.
Could it be that in his humanness, his spiritual well is dry, and he wants – needs – to replenish before continuing with his mission? Perhaps Jesus is spiritually, physically, and emotionally depleted. We all get that way.
And he could not escape notice -- the woman whose daughter had an unclean spirit shows up.
The woman is just like every parent who has ever had a child in need. You will literally move heaven and earth to help your child. Her daughter is demon-possessed, and we have learned from other gospel passages that the possessed lash out; they experience convulsions and tend to harm themselves as well as others. No one would want to invite them for dinner. This mother is most likely exhausted and has been isolated, and wants her child to be well – she needs a break.
Jesus’ response appears insensitive at the very least, but maybe it would not have seemed as insensitive in that culture as it does to us today.
Women would not have approached and spoken to male strangers. A Gentile woman would certainly not have been so bold as to approach and speak to a Jewish man.
Jesus’ response to her request, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” may have been enough to turn most away. But not this woman.
She is not moved by Jesus’ response to her. A woman who is seeking the good of her child will rarely be deterred.
She comes back at Jesus and his dog remark and replies, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs”.
And what does Jesus do?
He heals her daughter.
So what can we learn from this encounter?
Accepting instruction or correction from those who we may deem least likely to be able to guide us is something worth being open to. Sometimes correction comes from places and people we are not expecting.
Jesus accepts instruction from this outsider, this woman. She is able to help him see his bias, she stands firm in her faith of who He was, and challenges him to help her. And he responds, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter”.
Secondly, perseverance in the time of desperation, confidence in a loving and gracious God who would want all people to be filled and healed, allowed her to keep pressing and Jesus was able to hear and respond to what may even be called her rebuke. We may do well to persevere at times even when we have seemingly been turned away —having confidence in the God who is before us.
Thirdly, Jesus allows himself to be humbled and transformed.
Barbara Brown Taylor describes the transformation in this way: “You can almost hear the huge wheel of history turning as Jesus comes to a new understanding of who he is and what he has been called to do.” The woman’s faith and persistence teach Jesus that his mission is much bigger than he had imagined, and she opened his eyes to the fact that God’s love and mercy transcends all boundaries.
I think Mark included this passage in his gospel book partly to show Jesus’ humanity and partly because this seems to be a pivotal moment in Jesus’ ministry. Jesus doesn’t return home to his own people after this. He goes immediately to the Decapolis, a network of ten Greek cities, where he heals a deaf man with a speech impediment. Then Jesus feeds 4,000 Gentiles.
Jesus’ encounter with this woman, shifted Jesus’ ministry from the Jewish people alone and turned it to a ministry of all people. It is almost like an awareness overcame Jesus at this time.
Jesus became aware of God’s presence in this outsider —in this woman — at this time. And her persistence changed him.
There is something to be learned in this encounter about persistence in asking and praying. There is something to be learned about Jesus’ humanity and his ministry —how he developed and grew as we do. Step-by-step —encounter- by- encounter.
We are all the Children of God. Children from every tribe and language and nation. Crumbs from the table can be enough to heal us. We may have to persevere in our asking.
Our collect for today says, “you never forsake those who make their boast of your mercy…”
Do you make it a habit to boast in God’s mercy or to languish in God’s goodness to you?
I can speak for myself when I say, I don’t always. I need to be reminded of this truth and boast in God’s mercy as I am well aware of it in my own life.
The Syrophoenician woman had confidence in God’s mercy to her and her daughter.
Our James passage reminds us that God has chosen the unlikely in this world to be “heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him”… (James 2:1-10)
The Syriophoenician woman was unlikely but she became an heir that day.
In the Book of Common Prayer, the Rite One liturgy for Holy Eucharist includes the “Prayer of Humble Access,” which reads in part, “We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table,” followed by “but… thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy…”
This prayer puts us shoulder-to-shoulder with the Syrophoenician woman, as we confess both our present reality: we are unworthy, and yet the Good News of the Gospel is that ours is a God of mercy and grace.
Jesus was human —with human attributes—and equally God.
God is merciful. Lord, have mercy on us.
Amen.
Today’s Gospel passage is challenging.
It starts off pretty commonplace — a woman whose young daughter was ill had come to Jesus and bowed down at his feet seeking healing for her daughter. We have often heard stories of people coming to Jesus for healing— so this passage is not unusual in that regard—and also Jesus’ desire to be alone and to not let anyone know he was there, is a recurring theme throughout his time on earth — so again— not that unusual — but this story is peculiar because Jesus says something that we would not consider to be nice.
Jesus calls the woman who came to him a dog.
Mark tells us that this woman was a Gentile, and more than that, she was the worst kind of Gentile: A Syrophoenician Gentile, meaning that her ancestors were Canaanites and Moabites—historic enemies of the Jewish people. The woman begged Jesus to heal her daughter.
Jesus does something we’re not expecting; he says to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
It is surmised that Jesus was speaking about the Jewish people when he said, “Let the children be fed first”, but then, Jesus if the analogy holds, Jesus referred to the woman and others as dogs.
It is unsettling, because this our Messiah who spoke these words.
Whenever there is discomfort with a Biblical text, you will find a slew of well-meaning preachers and teachers trying to “make it okay”. To justify or explain away the text — the problem is here is that I don’t think it can be explained. He didn’t call her a “puppy”, an endearing term as some have said. Some have said it wasn’t as insulting back then as it is today —but that argument really does not hold up.
So, if the text does say what it appears to say, which I think it does, and if we believe (which we do), that God is loving and accepting of all people, and is not cruel, what do we make of Jesus’ response to this woman?
As the Letter of James reminds us, words do matter, so what about these words? And what about those words from James that “if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors?” Was not Jesus showing partiality and not wanting to serve this woman because she was a Gentile?
We believe and profess that Jesus is fully human and fully divine, and this week, we encounter Jesus in his full humanity.
Jesus was seemingly rude and dismissive of this woman.
But why?
Our text makes it clear that Jesus wants to be left alone.
Could it be that in his humanness, his spiritual well is dry, and he wants – needs – to replenish before continuing with his mission? Perhaps Jesus is spiritually, physically, and emotionally depleted. We all get that way.
And he could not escape notice -- the woman whose daughter had an unclean spirit shows up.
The woman is just like every parent who has ever had a child in need. You will literally move heaven and earth to help your child. Her daughter is demon-possessed, and we have learned from other gospel passages that the possessed lash out; they experience convulsions and tend to harm themselves as well as others. No one would want to invite them for dinner. This mother is most likely exhausted and has been isolated, and wants her child to be well – she needs a break.
Jesus’ response appears insensitive at the very least, but maybe it would not have seemed as insensitive in that culture as it does to us today.
Women would not have approached and spoken to male strangers. A Gentile woman would certainly not have been so bold as to approach and speak to a Jewish man.
Jesus’ response to her request, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” may have been enough to turn most away. But not this woman.
She is not moved by Jesus’ response to her. A woman who is seeking the good of her child will rarely be deterred.
She comes back at Jesus and his dog remark and replies, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs”.
And what does Jesus do?
He heals her daughter.
So what can we learn from this encounter?
Accepting instruction or correction from those who we may deem least likely to be able to guide us is something worth being open to. Sometimes correction comes from places and people we are not expecting.
Jesus accepts instruction from this outsider, this woman. She is able to help him see his bias, she stands firm in her faith of who He was, and challenges him to help her. And he responds, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter”.
Secondly, perseverance in the time of desperation, confidence in a loving and gracious God who would want all people to be filled and healed, allowed her to keep pressing and Jesus was able to hear and respond to what may even be called her rebuke. We may do well to persevere at times even when we have seemingly been turned away —having confidence in the God who is before us.
Thirdly, Jesus allows himself to be humbled and transformed.
Barbara Brown Taylor describes the transformation in this way: “You can almost hear the huge wheel of history turning as Jesus comes to a new understanding of who he is and what he has been called to do.” The woman’s faith and persistence teach Jesus that his mission is much bigger than he had imagined, and she opened his eyes to the fact that God’s love and mercy transcends all boundaries.
I think Mark included this passage in his gospel book partly to show Jesus’ humanity and partly because this seems to be a pivotal moment in Jesus’ ministry. Jesus doesn’t return home to his own people after this. He goes immediately to the Decapolis, a network of ten Greek cities, where he heals a deaf man with a speech impediment. Then Jesus feeds 4,000 Gentiles.
Jesus’ encounter with this woman, shifted Jesus’ ministry from the Jewish people alone and turned it to a ministry of all people. It is almost like an awareness overcame Jesus at this time.
Jesus became aware of God’s presence in this outsider —in this woman — at this time. And her persistence changed him.
There is something to be learned in this encounter about persistence in asking and praying. There is something to be learned about Jesus’ humanity and his ministry —how he developed and grew as we do. Step-by-step —encounter- by- encounter.
We are all the Children of God. Children from every tribe and language and nation. Crumbs from the table can be enough to heal us. We may have to persevere in our asking.
Our collect for today says, “you never forsake those who make their boast of your mercy…”
Do you make it a habit to boast in God’s mercy or to languish in God’s goodness to you?
I can speak for myself when I say, I don’t always. I need to be reminded of this truth and boast in God’s mercy as I am well aware of it in my own life.
The Syrophoenician woman had confidence in God’s mercy to her and her daughter.
Our James passage reminds us that God has chosen the unlikely in this world to be “heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him”… (James 2:1-10)
The Syriophoenician woman was unlikely but she became an heir that day.
In the Book of Common Prayer, the Rite One liturgy for Holy Eucharist includes the “Prayer of Humble Access,” which reads in part, “We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table,” followed by “but… thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy…”
This prayer puts us shoulder-to-shoulder with the Syrophoenician woman, as we confess both our present reality: we are unworthy, and yet the Good News of the Gospel is that ours is a God of mercy and grace.
Jesus was human —with human attributes—and equally God.
God is merciful. Lord, have mercy on us.
Amen.