First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: Matthew 15:21-28
January 19, 2003
The Syro-Phoenician Woman
Jesus left that place and went into the district of Tyre and Sidon, and a Phoenician woman from those parts came to him calling out, “Take pity on me, Lord, Son of David, for my daughter is badly demon-possessed.” Not a word did he answer, and his disciples approached him: “Send her away,” they said, “for she is calling after us.” He replied, “I was not sent, except to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” She, however, came and threw herself before him and said: “Lord, help me.” But he replied: “It is not right to take children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” “Yes, Lord,” she said, “yet even the dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their masters’ tables.” “Woman,” said Jesus in reply to her, “your faith is great. Let it be as you wish.” Her daughter was made well from that time.
Matthew 15: 21-28
Anchor Bible translation
* * * * *
So live and let live,
let this be our motto,
and let the sleeping dogs lie.
Here’s to the dogs of Toledo, Ohio,
ladies, we bid you goodbye.
Those lines are from a once-popular song by John Denver. As songs go, it is not very complimentary about Toledo or its ladies. Having spent little time in Toledo, I can’t comment on the accuracy of John’s observations. I can only assume he meant them as satire.
But while some satire tickles, other satire bites. Consider the denigration of ladies as “dogs.” It is chauvinism at its worst. It could even be called bad taste bordering on obscenity. If a young man is asked to evaluate his blind date of the previous evening and, instead of commenting, begins barking, only the most immature would think him funny. And if a college freshman were to come home and describe his female classmates as a “bunch of bowzers,” it would say more about the kid than it would about his classmates.
When applied to the male gender, the term “dogs” can be equally cruel. The Tigers once had a third baseman known as “Mad Dog,” which was viewed as a term of endearment only in Detroit. And just how bad was “Bad, Bad LeRoy Brown”? Why, he was meaner than a junkyard dog, that’s how mean he was. Which tells you all you need to know about LeRoy.
With that as background, I give you this little passage from Matthew, wherein Jesus classifies a whole collection of people (and a woman who fronts for them) as “dogs.” Which is why no one ever preaches on the passage. Because no one has the faintest idea what to do with the passage. And it wouldn’t have occurred to me to preach on it this morning, had I not been asked by a publisher to prepare 150 well-chosen words explaining it (if that be possible). Over the last couple of years, I have been asked to write “sermon starters” for the Abingdon Preaching Annual, a task far more challenging than profitable. Actually, this text (commonly referred to as “Jesus and the Syro-Phoenician Woman”) won’t appear in the common lectionary until August 14, 2005….when any forward-looking lectionary preacher will conveniently schedule vacation. But my words are required by the publisher next week. Still, there is a strange appropriateness to them, given this particular Sunday in our nation’s history. But hang in there with me. I’ll get there. For now, let’s simply jump into the text….feet first.
Jesus withdraws to the region of Tyre and Sidon where he meets a Canaanite woman. You need to know that Tyre and Sidon are foreign provinces, north of Galilee. Today you’ll find them in Lebanon. The Canaanites who dwell there are technically Phoenicians, known by their Greek dialect, who (in the Old Testament) are often spoken of with reproach. At any rate, there are only two things you really need to know at this point.
Canaanites are not Jews.
Canaanites are not liked.
While he is in that region, a Canaanite woman seeks Jesus out and cries: “Take pity on me, Lord, son of David, for my daughter is badly demon possessed.” To which Jesus says nothing….not a word. So his disciples come and say to him: “Give her what she wants, for she is crying after us.” The Jerusalem Bible translates: “For she is shouting after us.” William Barclay’s translation reads: “For she is shrieking after us.” Surely you get the picture. This lady is persistent. She is not about to take “no” for an answer. She is going to pound and hound until she gets some satisfaction. Years ago, someone told her that it is the squeaky wheel which gets the grease, so she is going to squeak. Some people do that, you know. They won’t let up.
When the disciples tell Jesus to “give her what she wants,” they are not necessarily moved by compassion. They are moved by expediency. They want to get rid of her. This lady is a nuisance. Spell that P-E-S-T….or spell it anyway you want. I don’t care. All I know is that I have met this lady. Several times.
Finally, Jesus has no choice. She has outlasted him. And she has exhausted him. She cannot be avoided. She can, however, be denied. Which is exactly what Jesus does. Denies her, I mean.
“Help me,” she cries.
“It is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs,” he says.
Don’t let this slip by. This is not just a denial of her request. This is an insult of her person. Worse yet, this is something of a racial insult. As such, it’s not very pretty. But it does deserve a second look.
William Barclay writes: “To call a person a dog was a deadly and contemptuous insult. But it was not uncommon for Jews to speak with arrogant insolence about Canaanite dogs….infidel dogs….and later, even Christian dogs.” Barclay then goes on to add: “In those days, dogs were not house pets, so much as they were the unclean scavengers of the street….lean….savage…. often diseased.” We’re not talking “Lassie” here. We’re talking “junkyard dog.”
“It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs,” Jesus says.
For purposes of this story, the “dogs” include this woman….her daughter….her neighbors in Tyre and Sidon….along with all Canaanites (especially those who speak with a Greek dialect)…. in other words, the foreigners. Which leads to a second and third question: “Who, for purposes of this story, are the children?” and “What is the bread?”
As questions go, the first is easier than the second. The children are the Jews. For as Jesus says to his disciples (before turning to answer the woman): “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel (meaning the Jewish people). They are my mission. They are my congregation. They are my crowd.”
As for “the bread,” I suppose it can be whatever you want it to be. For purposes of our discussion, let the bread represent all the good things Jesus has at his disposal to give….blessings….bounties….healings….happiness….the Kingdom….the fruits of the Kingdom ….the forgiveness that will open the door to the Kingdom….all that stuff and more.
Jesus is telling the woman: “It wouldn’t be right to give the good stuff to you and your kind. And even if it would be right, it isn’t my job description.” Which leaves us scratching our heads, trying to reconcile these words of Jesus with other images we have of Jesus. If only the commentators could help us. But they don’t. Let me summarize their efforts.
Some say that Jesus is making a joke….that he is saying this with a twinkle in his eye. It is like you and I punching an old friend on the arm and saying: “It’s great to see you, you old dog.” This is the explanation that William Barclay gives. In fact, I’ll quote it for you: “We can be quite sure that the smile on Jesus’ face and the compassion in Jesus’ eyes robbed the words of all bitterness.” To which I say: “Nice try, Barclay, you sly dog, you. But I find nothing, whatsoever, in the text to support it.”
Others have said that Jesus is not talking junkyard dogs here, but house dogs….little dogs….lap dogs….puppies. They point to the Greek word kunaria and tell us that it is the diminutive form suggesting “doggies” rather than “street dogs.” Which suggests that Jesus may have said: “Look, lady, it is not right that I should take the children’s bread and throw it to the puppies.” But while the word “puppy” is less demeaning, it is certainly condescending. And none of us like being treated with condescension….even by Jesus (or by Jesus’ church).
Still others suggest that while Jesus didn’t personally equate Canaanites with dogs, Jesus knew everybody else thought that way….including his disciples. So he spoke the term aloud so that they could hear how demeaning (and shocking) it sounded when it came out of his mouth. That’s called reverse psychology. If you believe such an approach to be effective, the next time your kid lets slip a cussword at the dinner table, why not unleash a string of profanity yourself? That way, your kid will be sufficiently shocked, so as to say: “Gee, Dad, I never knew how bad it sounded. You won’t hear me talking like that again.”
Still other commentators have suggested that Jesus would never have said anything like this if he hadn’t been tired (which the text says he was), and if the woman hadn’t been a nag (which the text says she was). In other words, we’ve got to cut everybody a little slack. Even Jesus should be allowed to have a “very human” day. That’s called the Trent Lott defense.
But none of those explanations help me much. I have no problem giving anybody the benefit of the doubt if the text will support it. But, in this case, it doesn’t. The text means what it says:
“Lady, it would not be right for me to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”
But you’ve got to admire the lady. She has a wonderful comeback:
“True, Lord (she says), but even the dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table.”
And you know what falls from the table. Scraps. Leftovers. That’s what falls from the table. How do I know that? I know that because I am a soft touch. I’ll feed anybody’s animal. We were at somebody’s home for dinner the other night and their dog parked himself right at my feet. You better believe that dog knew where the sucker was sitting.
Still, when the woman introduces the subject of table scraps….along with her willingness to settle for table scraps….and her belief that there will be healing power in table scraps….Jesus says: “Wow! What faith! Whatever you want, lady, you got it.”
So what is this story about and why preach it this morning? Well, it’s about more than one thing. On the surface, it’s about healing. But lots of biblical stories are about healing. People get healed from all sorts of things….stiffness in the limbs….blindness in the eyes….scabs forming on the outside….blood flowing from the inside….along with illness (mental illness?) attributable to demons. Taken as a healing story, this one isn’t all that unusual. In fact, it’s rather succinct.
Daughter suffers.
Mothers pleads.
Jesus heals.
If there is anything that makes this story unique, it is the mother’s passionate intensity that healing must happen, coupled with her passionate intensity that healing can happen. Have you ever noticed in the gospels the degree to which Jesus both resonates to and rewards passion? How badly you need it….how badly you want it….and how passionately you believe Jesus can deliver it…seems to be an important component in most New Testament healings. But, then, passionate intensity seems to be an important component in almost anything that happens in the New Testament. Note that Jesus did not say: “Happy will be those who give an occasional thought or two to the subject of righteousness….or check out a book from the Baldwin Public Library on the subject of righteousness….or attend a panel discussion on images of righteousness in modern day movies (provided that Rod Quainton also provides popcorn and a soft drink).” No, Jesus said: “Happy will be those who hunger and thirst after righteousness….whose stomachs growl for righteousness….and whose throats will not be quenched without a good stiff drink of righteousness.” Could it be that (in life) you are more likely to get what you cry out for, because it is only what you cry for all day that you are willing to meet halfway?
Which completes my word on the healing aspects of this little story. Except that I do not believe this to be a story about healers, so much as a story about outsiders. This lady is an outsider. She knows she is an outsider. And the story painfully reinforces her status as an outsider (given the fact that Jesus calls her an outsider)….or appears to. I, for one, believe that if there are occasions in scripture where words are attributed to Jesus that may not come from the lips of Jesus, this is one of them. Or, as George Buttrick so eloquently put it: “What we must recognize (when we hear words like ‘dogs’ applied to whole classes of people) is that the language of the tradition has been affected by the prejudices of those who handed it down during the long oral period before the gospels were compiled.”
Which I can understand, given that it is still going on twenty centuries later….distortions of the gospel by those of us who preach it, I mean. I would love to be able to say that my prejudices never get in the way of my pronouncements. But I can’t.
Go back to the more troubling lines of the story and zero in, not just on the word “dogs,” but on the image of dogs eating crumbs which have fallen from their master’s table. Now I ask you, is that not one of the most vivid depictions of the evils of racism that you can visualize? I told you I’d come back to tie today’s story into tomorrow’s holiday (Martin Luther King Day).
Early on in our years together, when the members of Kris’ family outnumbered any one room’s capacity to feed them simultaneously, whenever we gathered for holiday dinners at her mother’s house, there would always be two tables….one in the dining room, the other in the living room. And no matter how hard Kris’ mother tried to give them equal status, they never had equal status. Early on, the living room table was the children’s table. Later, as the kids grew up, it became the other table, or the second table. Clearly, the living room table was the lesser table. But you can understand that. Because it’s like that when your family gets together, too. There’s the big table. And there’s the table where people sit who aren’t at the big table. The food may be the same on both tables. But not the plates or the goblets, given that there’s only so much Lenox and Waterford to go around. And when it comes to the antique crystal salt and pepper shakers that have been in the family since the Mayflower, you know where those are going to go. And in a lot of families….including the church family….we are still trying to sort out who sits where….and why.
I suppose we could all eat a little crow, fork our way through some humble pie, and (in the words of the communion liturgy) confess that none of us is worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under the Lord’s table. But let’s admit it. Few of us believe it. So the question is not whether we will collectively grovel. The question is whether we will collectively share….crumbs and cake….chairs and chairmanships. For it is not lost on me that most biblical images of the Kingdom have tables in them. But all the people seem to be sitting at them rather than crawling beneath them.
Including, I suppose, that woman who somebody (God, I hope it wasn’t Jesus) likened to a dog. Because I’ve seen her at the table. And I’ll never forget the day she got the better of Jesus. But that isn’t how she remembers it. She remembers it as the day she got the best of Jesus….as in all of Jesus….with nothing (absolutely nothing) held back by Jesus.
Which explains why, upon spotting her (across the table and just a little bit to the left), I introduced myself and we exchanged names. I mean, who knows when I might want her to pass me the bread?
