Crumbs for the Little Dogs

Matthew 15:21-28

21 And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22And 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." 23But He did not answer her a word. And His disciples came and begged Him, saying, "Send her away, for she is crying out after us." 24He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 25But she came and knelt before Him, saying, "Lord, help me." 26And He answered, "It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs." 27She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table." 28Then Jesus answered her, "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And her daughter was healed instantly.

In this text, we see a number of things: rebuke; rejection; modern minds may see ethnic bigotry; persistence; love; disdain; unwavering faith; miracles; reward; affirmation; prayers answered; acknowledgement of Jesus as Lord.

Verses 21-22: 21 And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22And 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."

A Canaanite woman – Women were not, to put it mildly, highly esteemed in 1^st century Palestine. They were, at best, second class citizens. Jesus, as we have seen in other places in the Gospels, acknowledged womens' important roles in the kingdom and affirmed them as blessed and beloved of God. Ultimately, we see that pattern repeated in this story, but not in these verses. That she was a Canaanite hints at the rejection – or apparent rejection – we see in the next few verses.

The Canaanites were dispossessed of their land as far back as Abram. Genesis 15:17-21 tells us that the “Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, 'To your descendants I have given this land, from the river of Egypt as far as the great river, the river Euphrates...'”which included the land of the Canaanites.

Both before and after the covenant in which the land of the Canaanites is given to Abra,, God promises children to Abram – later Abraham – and promises he will be the father of many nations, with descendants numbering as the stars. See Genesis 15:5; 17:6-8. In fact, in 17:8, the land of Canaan is promised to Abraham. This “everlasting covenant,” as it relates directly to the Canaanites, is repeated in Psalm 105:10-11.

The Canaanites had a long history of struggle with God's people. The Canaanites were descendants of Canaan, son of Ham. Abraham's descendants, both through Ishmael and Isaac, were descended from Noah's son, Shem. Historically, they had been devotees of Baal and even sacrificed children to that idol. Apparently by Jesus' time, some level of enmity existed even though Israelite Jews and Canaanites lived in close proximity.

Verse 23But He did not answer her a word. And His disciples came and begged Him, saying, "Send her away, for she is crying out after us."

What is the significance in Jesus not answering her plea? Some commentators suggest that pattern seen elsewhere in scripture, and born out in our own lives, is that God does not always “answer” when we call, at least not in the short term. Others suggest that the silent was actually communication. John Calvin, in one of his commentaries on this chapter, supposed that Jesus, while silent, “spoke within the mind of the woman.” He added:

In this way the Lord often acts towards those who believe in him; he speaks to them, and yet is silent. Relying on the testimonies of Scripture, where they hear him speaking, they firmly believe that he will be gracious to them; and yet he does not immediately reply to their wishes and prayers, but, on the contrary, seems as if he did not hear.

The deafening silence in response to our supplications can be one of the greatest tests of faith. Waiting for an answer also reminds us who is in charge. What is one of the first things we deal with is parents? We struggle to find the appropriate balance between promptly caring for our children's serious, immediate needs – food, changing a diaper – and being at their beckoned call. God, assuredly, does not struggle with that but there is, nevertheless, a parallel. Sometimes He, as father, makes us wait because that is best for us.

Other commentators suggest Jesus was simply steeling the resolve of the woman. Faced with his initial silence, she had to choose between pressing forward with her petition or giving up hope, maybe rejecting God altogether. Earle, Sanner and Childers, in the Beacon Bible Commentary, Vol 6, p 149 cite Carr: “Jesus, by his refusal, tries the woman's faith that He may purify and deepen it.”

Verses 24-25: 24 He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 25But she came and knelt before Him, saying, "Lord, help me."

When Jesus does answer, without directly granting or denying her specific request, i.e. that her daughter be delivered from demonic possession, He explains His purpose is to minister to His own people. As the woman did in verse 22, she reaffirmed His lordship. This, to me, has several interesting facets. First, one not a member of the “house of Israel” recognizes the Messiah. “Son of David,” according to John Calvin, was (to paraphrase) a messianic marker. Thus she, a foreigner, perhaps even a pagan (as opposed to a “God fearer” Gentile), acknowledged the lordship of the Jewish Messiah. Second, she personally acknowledged His lordship over her! She gave herself over to Him, surrendering herself, calling on His saving mercy.

Remarkable in this story is the tie-back to the covenental theology of the Jews. I am certainly no scholar and know little or nothing about the intricacies of that belief structure. But it's hard to miss Jesus showing Himself to be a good Jew steeped in the Old Testament. As various commentators have noted, Jesus' ministry really never reached beyond Judea. The Apostles, of course, carried the message to the Gentiles, spreading it all over the Roman Empire. Jesus, though, really ministered primarily to His own people. Here He expressly refuses – or at least hesitates – to extend the blessings meant for God's people to Gentiles.

A fascinating parallel is Abram/Abraham's “everlasting” blessing with God at the expense, if you will, of the Canaanites and others. Jesus' blessing, tied up in His Father's covenant with Abram/Abraham, was refused to this lowly Canaanite woman...or so it first seemed.

Verses 26And He answered, "It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs."

Little disagreement is found over Jesus' meaning when He responds by telling her it is not right to cast “the children's bread” “to the dogs.” If He didn't call this poor woman a dog, a major insult in that culture, He certainly compared her to one. Earle, Sanner and Childers argue that Jesus actually might have uttered this with a nudge and a wink as something of a rebuff or rebuke to His disciples. The original Greek does not refer to a “dog” like a filthy street dweller despised by that culture, but as a “little pet dog” with which children would play. If so, there was no rebuke in His response. It was an inside joke between Him and the woman.

We tend to see Jesus in a terrifically serious light. Some of that is because we have only text, without benefit of facial expressions and body language. Any modern day American who tries to communicate by text and email knows that meanings can be completely obscured, indeed lost, when all you have to go by are words on a screen. Mark Driscoll, in his book Religion Kills, argues for a funny Jesus, a man with a great sense of humor. If some of the minority commentators are right, this might be one example of our Lord busting some chops.

Covenantal theology reappears. John Calvin explains the significance of the “children's bread” as:

To make the meaning plain to us, it must be understood that the appellation of the children’s bread is here given, not to the gifts of God of whatever description, but only to those which were bestowed in a peculiar manner on Abraham and his posterity. For since the beginning of the world, the goodness of God was everywhere diffused—nay, filled heaven and earth—so that all mortal men felt that God was their Father. But as the children of Abraham had been more highly honored than the rest of mankind, the children’s bread is a name given to everything that, relates peculiarly to the adoption by which the Jews alone were elected to be children

Thus, Jesus was not being distantly metaphorical. Children were God's chosen ones; His adopted kids.

Verse 27She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table."

This one verse is packed full of theological punch! It is heavy and rich, like spiritual cheesecake. The next verse gives this one its full weight and meaning but I will still address them separately.

Crumbs are “small fragments, especially of something baked (as bread.)” One could not live on crumbs. Usually they are discarded. Here, they are left for the dogs. Not given to but left for the dogs. They are so small as to amount to almost nothing. These crumbs have fallen to the floor. It is hard to know what importance this idea held in that culture but we, in a society of overabundance, where our poor are fat, it's hard to conceive of being pleased with crumbs on the floor.

Moreover, consider how the Canaanite woman's willingness to take the crumbs contrasts with our 21^st century conception of Christianity. Think of the so-called “Prosperity Gospel” that we hear preached on cable TV. God, we are told, wants to give you everything your heart desires because He loves you! But is that what we see in this story? No. We see a master that wants us to want and be happy with only the crumbs!

It must not be ignored whose crumbs are being lapped up; the crumbs from the master's table. His crumbs – whatever they might be – are better than abundance from other sources.

Verse 28Then Jesus answered her, "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And her daughter was healed instantly.

Dovetailing nicely with the discussion on verse 27 is Jesus acknowledgment of this woman's “great faith.” She was willing to take a little – even after apparently being rejected or at least put off for the moment due to her race. She endured what may have been great personal insults. Yet she persisted in calling on Jesus to save her child.

The crumb concept is fitting in an ironic way. She and Jesus saw her as asking for very little, but what could be more important to a parent than the healing of an afflicted, suffering child? A lesson in here, maybe, is reflected in that irony. When we ask for the right types of blessings from God, He sees them as little things. God's kingdom, we see in scripture, often operates in contradictory ways: the first shall be last; the meek shall inherit the earth; he must increase, I must decrease; you must lose your life to gain it, etc. Be willing to take the crumbs and God will richly bless. Maybe a more apt way to put it is that the crumbs will satisfy your needs, another apparent contradiction; defying human logic.

There are parallels, too, between this woman's great faith and the faith necessary to move mountains. Not to make too much of the “crumbs” concept, but as Jesus said, having only faith the size of a mustard seed is necessary to move mountains. Having faith enough to accept the crumbs from the master's table is sufficient to cause you to experience in an almost inexpressible miracle.

More likely, as with the mustard seed, the issue isn't quantity but quality. What God gives us, even if we think it is not enough, is sufficient! That little mustard seed, similarly, grows into a large tree, as Jesus explained. Willingness to take the crumbs amounts to great faith because it necessitates reliance on God. Analogously, planting that mustard seed with the expectation that one day it will turn into a great tree – a hope that must battle some doubt – requires belief, nurture and, most importantly, patience!

Sacrifice

It's safe to say that the orthodox Judeo-Christian view of remission of sin is that something must be sacrificed, a blood offering must be made, to appease God's wrath or stay His judgment. I've never really quibbled with the truth of that, but I've never quite understood why that is the case. Couldn't He accept us doing jumping jacks or cartwheels as acts of repentence? Couldn't the giving of alms take the place of the physical sacrifice of either an animal, under the Judaic cultic practices, or a Man, i.e. the crucifixion of Jesus, God incarnate? After all, God is God, right? He could accept any mode or act in remission of sin. Or could He.

There's an incredible amount of theological and philosophical study on this issue. I don't claim to know what most of the great minds think about it. I don't claim to have new thoughts, but only thoughts or ideas new to me.

Like my fellow modern man, my personal inclination is to say that there's something incredibly cruel, even wrong, about killing an animal -- to say nothing of a sinless God-Man -- to appease God's anger at my sins. It seems unjust in a way. I don't fault skeptics for finding it so, but I, through faith, trust that God's plans and ways are better than any of which I could possibly conceive.

It must be remembered that the sacrifice rituals performed as laid out in Exodus and Leviticus were nothing like vicious acts of bloodlust. While it's true a spotless (innocent) animal died in the process, the offered animal was eaten by the priests. Understanding that, only vegetarians and vegans would be left to say that no justification, whatsoever, for the sacrifice could be made on modern terms.

While it is hard to come to grips with its unpleasantness, its ugliness (again, to our modern way of viewing things), I see that is precisely why ritualistic sacrifice might have had to occur. Certainly modern people would be troubled that their wrongdoing cost a cute little lamb its life. If I knew something had to die to clean up the mistakes I made, and that this process would need to be repeated as my sins piled up, I might be more hesistant to err. I might be more willing to exercise discipline, to try to flee temptation. I might take more seriously my faults.

What would seem more unjust than to kill an innocent man for the crimes of another? To us, there is not much we would find more appalling. Yet, that is the lesson of the cross. Someone else was tortured to death for your lies, lust, anger, violence, cruelty, pettiness, impatience, gluttony, or hatred.

You might be man or woman enough to live out your life according to your own will if you knew that only you would have to account for that. That might seem contrary to our selfish natures, but I've heard many people in my life say they didn't mind the idea of Hell. They say, half jokingly, half seriously, "Oh, what does it matter, I'm going to Hell anyway!"

But consider that, to make up for those shortcomings, someone else had to die. What if someone else already died a horrible death to clean up your mess? Would knowing that cause you pause to examine your life?

Roman Catholics believe that Jesus' crucifixion is -- and this is my way of explaining it -- re-enacted in the Mass and that Jesus daily presents His crucified body before the Father to stay His judgment, to cover your sins. If that is the case, you can't be content to say, "Well, He already died and we no longer sacrifice animals so this is taken care of."

Ultimately, a blood sacrifice is a deterrent. It's a wake up call. You already have your own soul to account for; do you want another's blood on your hands as well?

unOriginal Sin

I'm a Christian and consider myself more or less a fundamentalist. In my case that means I believe the Bible is true and tells literal, objective, truths. Like many things in life, though, that's not without qualification or exception. Even the most conservative Bible believer would have to admit that some things in the Bible are not intended to be taken literally but, rather, are figurative, symbolic or allegorical. It is hard to imagine that most of what is in the Book of Revelation will occur exactly as it is written and described. Jesus told parables to explain principles, but they weren't stories that had actually occurred as told.

For the last few years, I've had to come to grips with this issue as it pertains to the creation story told in the Book of Genesis, man's origins, God's role in our creation, evolution, etc. Lately I've settled comfortably into accepting that the Bible as a whole, and Genesis in particular, can be (and is) true in its essence but not literally true in every respect. Being frank, I do not believe, for instance that the entire earth and all the creatures on it were created in 6 (human) days within the last 10,000 or so years. I do not take as scientific fact that woman was created from the rib of man or that Adam and Eve lived in a garden paradise.

There's no place here to say why I no longer believe those things, but let's just say my doubt about the literal truth of the creation story goes back to this: there was no one there witness creation unfolding as it occurred. Who was around to see light created and set apart from darkness? How are we to know when the creatures of the earth were created since that occurred before life was breathed into Adam? Unlike the life of Jesus, which was witnessed and observed, no one was around to see the void that was the earth before God set his hand to all the finishing touches.

Certainly, I have no problem believing God created us through processes that the Bible never intended to describe nor which its authors could have understood or explained. Darwinistic randomness makes no sense to me at all and "intelligent design," or something close it, seems the best explanation of how things came to be.

Because so much of the creation and origin of man story in the Bible is, to me, figurative, I do not buy that sin necessarily originated in two people. The amazing thing that hit me the other day though is whether or not Adam and Eve literally ate from a "Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil" in the Garden of Eden is beside the point. Whether or not sin originated in those two naked people, somewhere in Mesopotamia, really doesn't matter a whole lot. What matters is that sin did originate somewhere. It's here and there's no getting around it. There's no denying it. There's no avoiding it. Only a fool could look at the whole of human history -- or even the last few months of news -- and conclude that sin does not exist.

Even beyond that, what struck me for the first time in my 38 years of life is that I am daily confronted with choosing between God's plan for my life or my own plans. I am daily tempted to eat from the proverbial tree, disregarding the warnings of dire consequences. Often times I do not eat; other times I do. The "fall of man" plays out in me continuously. I will not be able to give an account to God that pins my failings on Adam. I am tempted, I have ate and, but for God's grace, I would be expelled from paradise. The story of the fall of Adam and Eve is story. It's my story. It's our story. It may not have ever happened -- or it may have -- all those thousands of years ago somewhere in present day Iraq, but it happens daily with me. I have to choose between God's system and man's system. I pray for the strength to choose wisely.