There are few expressions of humility in the Bible more beautiful than the response of the Gentile mother when Jesus denies her request that he heal her daughter, saying,
“Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’
Jesus’ words sound harsh and unfeeling, no matter how we try to interpret them. In Matthew's version of this story Jesus gives a fuller reason for not helping her: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” By these lights, he is just staying “on mission.” His own people and target audience are “the children,” and outsiders are “dogs.”
Where is the Jesus who heals a Roman centurion’s servant, who frees a man in Gentile territory of a legion of demons, who stays for two days among Samaritans and holds up those disdained relatives of the Jews – outsiders, if not Gentiles – as models of compassionate service?
We’ll see him again shortly, when he fully digests this woman’s breathtakingly faithful reply: “Even the dogs under the table eat crumbs that fall from the table.” She knows that his “crumbs” hold power enough to heal her little girl, and she doesn’t care where she gets them or for whom they were intended. Her faith gets through to him, and he pronounces her daughter free and healed.
Who do we consider the “children,” and who do we regard as “dogs under the table?” Who is under your table? Some people who’ve never belonged to a church, or have heard the gospel only in its cultural iterations, might find it much easier than we to trust God, even if they use different language and rituals. Many of our churches offer feasts that precious few partake in, while at our margins there are many who would love to receive our “crumbs” of true faith: a loving community, the power of God’s Spirit, access to God in Christ. How do we make the invitation to those people who look and act so different from us?
My friend Mary Lynn once described her experience of eucharist beautifully: “Oh, you give us this little piece of bread, and we give it away all week, and then next Sunday we come back for more.” As we truly learn to understand the feast we receive through church, we can more intentionally offer our “crumbs all over the place until all are fed.
Jesus’ words sound harsh and unfeeling, no matter how we try to interpret them. In Matthew's version of this story Jesus gives a fuller reason for not helping her: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” By these lights, he is just staying “on mission.” His own people and target audience are “the children,” and outsiders are “dogs.”
Where is the Jesus who heals a Roman centurion’s servant, who frees a man in Gentile territory of a legion of demons, who stays for two days among Samaritans and holds up those disdained relatives of the Jews – outsiders, if not Gentiles – as models of compassionate service?
We’ll see him again shortly, when he fully digests this woman’s breathtakingly faithful reply: “Even the dogs under the table eat crumbs that fall from the table.” She knows that his “crumbs” hold power enough to heal her little girl, and she doesn’t care where she gets them or for whom they were intended. Her faith gets through to him, and he pronounces her daughter free and healed.
Who do we consider the “children,” and who do we regard as “dogs under the table?” Who is under your table? Some people who’ve never belonged to a church, or have heard the gospel only in its cultural iterations, might find it much easier than we to trust God, even if they use different language and rituals. Many of our churches offer feasts that precious few partake in, while at our margins there are many who would love to receive our “crumbs” of true faith: a loving community, the power of God’s Spirit, access to God in Christ. How do we make the invitation to those people who look and act so different from us?
My friend Mary Lynn once described her experience of eucharist beautifully: “Oh, you give us this little piece of bread, and we give it away all week, and then next Sunday we come back for more.” As we truly learn to understand the feast we receive through church, we can more intentionally offer our “crumbs all over the place until all are fed.
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