Dogs and Crumbs

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Today's Gospel lesson is not a popular one. It is not one of those accounts of Jesus being all nice and sweet. He does not multiply bread and fish and feed a zillion people. He does not have compassion and heal crowds of sick people. He does not do anything neat and cute and altruistic. He does not even say anything nice that we can file away in a Hallmark card and save to spout later when it sounds cute. In fact, today's Gospel lesson makes Jesus sound like a jerk.

Here is this poor woman, and she comes to Jesus, asking Him to heal her daughter who has been severely oppressed by a demon. And what does Jesus do? Nothing. Not one thing. He keeps on walking. He ignores her. Gentiles do not approach Jews, and women do not approach rabbis. It is as if she does not exist.

Then, after she has pestered His entourage enough that the disciples entreat Jesus to make her go away, He tells her that He was not sent to her, and calls her a dog, one of the more offensive terms one could hurl at another human being in that day. Dogs were scum, scavengers and nuisances, a cause for concern and disdain, dirty and impure. And Jesus called this woman a dog, simply for coming to ask Him to heal her daughter. What a jerk, right?

Why would Jesus act like this toward this poor woman? And why would this scene be considered important enough to be recorded in the Gospel, out of all the innumerable sayings and deeds and wonders and signs that Jesus did during His ministry?

This poor woman comes to Jesus and begs Him to heal her daughter of her demonic affliction, and Jesus snubs her. He keeps on walking. What a slap in the face that would be, to have the biggest celebrity preacher in Israel ignore you in public.

It has been said that some of the most difficult struggles a Christian might face are struggles with God. You expect to be confronted with struggles against the devil, the world, and your own sinful flesh and nature; you do not expect to struggle and fight against God.

Many, if not all, of you have faced the grave terminal illness of a loved one. You prayed and prayed that the Lord would deliver him from his illness. You may have begged and pleaded, bargained and bartered, wished and hoped that God, in His infinite mercy, would heal him and restore him to health. And at the same time you sat by and watched him struggle more and more each day. You watched the body decay and each breath become more labored than the last. And you prayed some more. You cried out to God, hoping and wishing and calling for a miracle, for healing, for someone to answer you. And … nothing.

Even if it is not a terminal illness, no doubt you have experienced the anguish of not seeing a clear answer to your deepest desires and most fervent prayers. Perhaps it was that God would deliver you from the poverty of your current economic situation. Perhaps it was that God would free you from the confines of chronic pain or disease. Perhaps it was that God would grant you a husband or wife to deliver you from your life of solitude and loneliness. You prayed and prayed, you waited and waited, and nothing happened.

You prayed, just like you were commanded to. You waited, just like you were commanded to. You believed in the Lord's power to act, just like you were commanded to. You even believed all the nice fluffy stuff about Him being your dear Father and you being His dear child. And yet, when you asked for bread, He did not even give you so much as a stone.

One big reason why you get so indignant when you think about how Jesus treats this woman is that you do not like to have your nose rubbed in your own mess. You might know you are a dog, but you do not want to be told as much.

This is why people ran away from the Roman practice of Confession after the dawn of the Reformation. Who wants to climb into a little box and tell some weird guy in a dress all your sins? You would have to admit not just that you are a sinner, but that you have sinned.

It is easy enough to stand up with everyone else here on a Sunday and mutter something about “I, a poor miserable sinner...” and so on and so forth. You are comfortable enough giving verbal assent to that fact. You will give a nod to the stuff that says you want to do better. And then you hear the declaration of the absolution, probably with about as much interest as you hear the weather report on the news. Yeah, whatever – I've heard that before. Moving along.

General confession is safe, because you do not actually have to confront anything about your own personal life, your own spiritual condition, or your own behavior. Some churches skip the little red print in the hymnal about the “silence for reflection on God's Word and for self-examination” before the confession, because it makes people feel uncomfortable. It makes you feel uncomfortable to stand before God and contemplate your sins.

It is one thing to pay lip service to the idea that you are a sinner. It is quite another thing to confess your actual sins and evil desires, even silently to God. You are afraid and ashamed to admit just how many times you have desired the body of someone who is not your spouse. You are afraid to admit how many times you lost control of your temper or your tongue. You are ashamed to think about just exactly what you said and thought about your neighbors. You are ashamed to confess how often you have held back your hand from showing mercy to those in need, how much you have kept to yourself instead of supporting the Lord's house.

However, this is not the case with the Canaanite woman who approaches Jesus. She is fully aware of her inferior status and her abject poverty in relation to Jesus. And she freely acknowledges that what her Lord says about her is true. She comes to Jesus in her poverty and begs of Him that He would heal her daughter only out of His abundant mercy.

Jesus reminds the disciples that she is inferior in the economy of salvation, not belonging to the house of Israel. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” He was sent to the Israelites, to the people of God. The promise was for Israel and his children, not for the wild, godless heathens of the Canaanite nations. Jesus speaks these words to the disciples, not even to this hapless woman who has been entreating His mercy.

What is she going to say? She is not of the house of Israel. She has no claim on Jesus' mercy, or on any of the gifts of God. She is a Gentile, and she knows it.

So it seems sometimes when you attempt to pray. The devil would have you believe that you have no right to pray. Who are you to pray to the Holy One of Israel? You are a dirty, impure, unrighteous Gentile. Your sins stand as scarlet against you. You have no standing to approach the table of the Most High God, much less present your petitions to Him. No wonder He does not listen and give you the desires of your heart. How could He favorably receive the prayers of one so befouled as you?

But this woman does not believe the devil's lies. She will not be tricked, fooled, or berated into believing anything other than that Jesus, the Lord, the Son of David, can and will heal her daughter. She has begun to entreat Him, and she will not stop for anything until the Lord answers her. His silence does not put her off. Neither do His disciples, who believe that Jesus belongs to them, and she will not be put off by them running interference between her and her Lord. She will have her petition answered.

She cries out again, “Lord, help me.” She keeps on crying out, even when the disciples have asked Jesus to make her leave. “And He answered, 'It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.'” He just called her a dog! In front of a whole bunch of people! How's that for fighting against God?

But she is not deterred about anything Jesus says to her or about her. Yes, she is a dog. Yes, she is a Gentile, and a woman, and a sinner. Yes, she is impure and unholy. No, she has no standing before God to ask for anything. No, she is not under the covenant of Abraham. No, she is not of the house of Israel, and has no access to the promises of Israel.

“Yes, Lord, for even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table.” She is a dog. She is a sinner. She is unworthy. But Jesus is God. Whatever she may be, that does not change the fact that Jesus has the power over life and death, over angels and demons. Regardless of her lowly estate, she believes that Jesus can and will heal her daughter, not because of her worthiness but because of His mercy and love for His creation.

This woman comes to Jesus in the emptiness of her spiritual condition. She confesses Him as Lord. She believes in Him as the one who has the power to save. And she will not let Jesus be anything else. He is the Lord of the Universe, and this woman intends to hold Him to that job description.

And this is a great delight to the Lord God. He delights to have you cling to His Word in faith and hold it up to Him and call Him to account for His promises to you. He has given His Word to you for just such a purpose, that you believe in it and that you call Him to fulfill it. Which He will, without fail. God delights that you should call upon Him in every trouble, pray to Him for every need, and turn to Him in any kind of distress. That is what He has commanded you to do, and He has promised to answer you.

Our Lord answers by having mercy upon you, just as He had mercy upon the woman's daughter. He drives away her demons with a word, and it is done. And He does the same for you. He speaks to you, saying, “I forgive you all your sins in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” In that little sentence, Jesus drives back the powers of death and hell from you. He drives away from you the forces of Satan by the word of forgiveness which was purchased for you on His cross, and which is sealed for you by His glorious resurrection and ascension. The demons are driven away, and the Holy Spirit has come to dwell in you. Nothing in all of creation can separate you from the love of Christ Jesus, which has been sacrificially poured out for you, for the forgiveness of your sins.

And He answers you by making you to be a member of the house of Israel. For there is no difference between Jew and Greek: all have sinned, and Christ has died for all. He has died for the ungodly of every nation, tribe, and people. He has died for the Canaanites and the Galileans, for the Nazarenes and the Americans. He died to take away your sins, to answer your prayers for deliverance from sin, death, and the devil. He died to make you who were not a people into the people of God. The Church of God comes from every nation, and all are incorporated into the house of Israel, because all the faithful are joined to the King of Israel in body and soul.

Jesus came to save the lost sheep of the house of Israel. But they did not believe; indeed, they rejected Him, and they put Him to death. However, that does not negate the promise of salvation. For, as St. Paul says, salvation is given to the Gentiles, that by the rejection of the Jews salvation might come to all nations. And, by the nations being saved, the Jews might perhaps be moved toward their own birthright as the people of God. “For God has consigned all to disobedience, that He may have mercy on all.” Even you.

So rejoice in your Baptism. Rejoice that in those waters the Lord of Glory made you a child of the house of Israel, that He put His Name upon you, and that in that selfsame Name He forgives you all your sins. Rejoice that, because you are a child of God, the demons have been driven away from you and salvation has come near to you. Rejoice that, because you are a child of God, His promises are for you, for your house and for your children.

Confess that you are a dog, unworthy even of the crumbs from the Master's table. But cling to those crumbs, because the crumbs from your Lord's Table are even more glorious than the richest meat and choicest drink of your enemy's house. For even the scraps from the Lord's Table offer what He promises – forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation. And He is not miserly; your Lord does not merely give you crumbs, but fills you up with the Bread of Life and the Wine of Immortality – His very Body and Blood. And with His Body and Blood He makes you not a dog, but a son and heir.

The Lord has spoken His Word to you, and His Word does what He says. What He says, He will do. God is faithful. He has made you worthy to approach His throne. He has made you His beloved child. He has promised that He will listen to your prayers and answer them, even if it does not seem like it immediately. Hold Him to His promises – He will do what He says.

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.