Of Dogs and Crumbs (Proper 15A, Pentecost 11 2020)

Text: “26 And he answered, 'It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.' 27 She said, 'Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.' 28 Then Jesus answered her, 'O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.’”

I must admit that I struggled with this text this past week. I really wrestled with what to say about it, what you needed to hear from this section of God’s Word. I struggled with it until the end of the week, when I feel like I lived it.

I helped out this week at a hospice camp run by Wellspring Lutheran Services (one of the amazing ministries here in our Michigan District). This isn’t a commercial for Wellspring, but they are an incredible blessing to so many people in our state. They handle everything from foster care to nursing homes. As just about all of you probably are aware, my wife, Betsy, is a registered nurse who works for their hospice group.

Wellspring does incredible work for so many people in so many different ways. One of the things they do is put on a camp each summer called Camp Hope. Camp Hope is for children between the ages of 5 and 15 (roughly) who have lost someone close to them. This past week about 45 children spent three days together having some fun, but also facing their grief.

It would be inappropriate to share a lot of what happened there. Let me just say that there’s not much that prepares you to sit at a table with half a dozen junior high boys and girls as each one is given a pillow with a picture of the Grandfather or grandmother, the aunt or uncle, the cousin, the father or mother that they lost. There’s no preparation for seeing a girl hugging her pillow with three or four pictures on it. There’s no preparation for hearing a young man share how proud he is that his father donated his eyes and other organs to people who needed them.

You may be thinking, “What does this have to do with the Canaanite woman and Jesus?” Well, the children at that camp are not Canaanites, obviously, but each one is, most certainly, crying out, “Lord, help me!” They’re using different language, but they’re saying it. Some are saying it with their anger, others are saying it with their silence; some are saying it by acting mature and all grown up, others are saying it by acting very immature; they’re saying it with different words, but each one of them is crying out, “Lord, help me!”

And all they’re asking for, from our perspective, is crumbs. They’re not looking for forgiveness of sins, eternal life, salvation. Most of them really are not religious. All they’re asking for are a few crumbs— just some way to deal with the pain. And they had an amazing group of social workers and counselors who did just that. They helped the kids understand that they were not feeling just one thing, they were experiencing a tangled mess of emotions; they helped the kids to recognize the physical effects of grief on our bodies; they helped the kids to start to untangle that big, ugly mess. And, on top of that, we sort of got to be in the position of the disciples for a minute— asking Jesus, “Can you do something?”

You know, the disciples get a little bit of a bad rap here. We hear them say, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us,” and what we understand them to be saying is, “Lord, can you tell her to just buzz off?” But think about it for a minute. When had they ever seen Jesus deny the request of someone in need? When had they ever seen Him give someone in need the cold shoulder? There were times that He delayed briefly to settle some question or to make sure that He was strengthening their faith as well as healing them, but they had never seen Jesus deny anyone pleading for help. It’s true, when they said, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us,” it seems like they were mainly concerned with putting an end to this woman shouting at them, but they were not looking for Him to send her off empty handed. They not only knew that Jesus could help, but that He would.

That’s sort of what we were doing for the kids at camp. All that they were asking for was a few crumbs— the crumbs that the dogs get when they fall from the table— just a way to deal with the pain; just knowing that someone cared; just a glimmer of hope that, someday, things might be ok. But we got to give them all of that and so much more.

The camp was not about preaching to them, but we got to tell them about a God who knows how they feel because He was willing to walk in our shoes, to the point of standing at the tomb of His dear friend and weeping. He knows their grief first hand.

We got to show them the love of a God who cares about their pain so much that He was willing to suffer and die to give them the hope that their Redeemer lives and that, in the end, He will stand upon the earth, and after their skin has been destroyed, they will see God with their own eyes.

We got to show them the love of a God who wants to give them far more than just crumbs— who died and rose again to give them a seat at His feast along with all of His other children, to give the full rights of a son.

That is the gift that you have been given. He doesn’t leave you to pick up whatever crumbs of hope or peace that you might find in this life. He prepares a table before you and invites you to taste and see that the Lord is good.

As one of our hymns puts it,

The gifts flow from the font

Where He calls us His own;

New life He gives that makes

Us His and His alone.

Here He forgives our sins

With water and His Word;

The triune God Himself

Gives power to call Him Lord.

The gifts are in the feast,

Gifts far more than we see;

Beneath the bread and wine

Is food from Calvary.

The body and the blood

Remove our every sin;

We leave His presence in

His peace, renewed again. (“The Gifts Christ Freely Gives,” Lutheran Service Book #602)

That is the gift that you have been given and that you are privileged to share with those around you, both through your words and through your deeds.

That’s why your grandfathers and great-grandfathers founded a school here. For something like 147 years, parents have brought their children here— hopefully without the shouting— and your called teachers have given out a knowledge of math and science and all of the joys and blessings of that education. And, on top of that, they have also given out the greater gifts by bringing the children to Jesus; teaching the children about all that He has done for them and given them; and being visible examples of His love.

In a few minute, in Bible study, we’ll dig into this passage even deeper, wrestling with why Jesus would turn her away at first, for example. But, for now, I hope that my experience living it in some small sense this week also demonstrates that you get to live it every day, too.