21 Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22 Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” 23 But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” 24 He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 25 But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” 26 He answered, “It is not fair to take the children's food 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, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.
Matthew 15:21–28
One evening while Candace and I were having dinner with our friends, Ron and Katherine, Ron sprayed some whipped cream on his dessert and then into the mouth of Lulu, one of their bulldogs. Harriett, their other bulldog, prefers to eat the whipped cream after it’s sprayed on to the floor. Without pausing, Ron handed the can of whipped cream to me. I hesitated momentarily thinking, “I guess it’s okay for me to eat this after the dogs.” I’ll also confess that I quickly tried to replay the scene in my mind in order to recall whether or not Lulu’s mouth touched the tip of the can. As a rule I’m not fond of eating after dogs, or any animal for that matter.
Anyone who knows Ron isn’t surprised by his table generosity. He loves the “bullies.” I shouldn’t have been taken aback either, for whenever we’ve had dinner with them, Ron often shares table scraps with “the girls,” as he affectionately calls Lulu and Harriett. I’m fine with that, but this time his generosity involved me. It’s one thing for Ron to share his food with the dogs, but to share his food with the dogs and then afterwards to offer it to me, well, that’s an entirely different matter.
Dinner that evening also reminded me of the battle between David and the Philistine warrior, Goliath. When Goliath saw David approaching him on the battlefield, Goliath said, “Am I a dog that you come to me with sticks?” (1 Samuel 17:43, italics added). In a similar way, I wanted to ask Ron, “Do you think of me as just another dog that you serve after your ‘bullies?’” I knew Ron didn’t—at least I didn’t think so—but the question did enter my mind.
Despite the affection that many people have for them, dogs haven’t always been regarded as “man’s best friend.” As the story of David and Goliath illustrates, a common way to insult someone back then was to call him a dog (cf. 1 Samuel 24:14; 2 Samuel 3:8; 9:8; 16:9; 2 Kings 8:13; Job 30:1; Psalms 22:16, 20; 59:6, 14; Proverbs 26:11).
That being the case, when I consider Jesus’ response to the Canaanite mother, it’s hard to believe that Jesus would have said to anyone, let alone a distraught woman, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (Matthew 15:26). At first glance, this saying appears to promote Israel’s status at the expense of a mother whose only request was for her daughter to be freed from a demon; and because of that, Jesus’ repartee strikes me as being especially unkind.
I don’t know about you, but in this instance, I’d rather be more like Ron than Jesus.
It’s important to note that the way Matthew frames the encounter between Jesus and the Canaanite woman intensifies Jesus’ apparent heartlessness. But before I move on to make my case for that last remark, I want to make sure I’ve made myself absolutely clear, I’m talking about Jesus’ apparent heartlessness.
There are several reasons why Matthew’s Jesus initially comes across as a cold and heartless rabbi. The first reason is found in the seemingly innocuous opening sentence of this passage, “Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon” (Matthew 15:21, italics added). In Matthew’s account, “that place” refers to Gennesaret, a district on the northwest shore of the Sea of Galilee. Read in isolation, the introductory sentence doesn’t generate a negative view of Jesus. But when read in contrast to what had happened while Jesus had been in “that place,” an entirely different impression of Jesus is formed.
When Jesus had been in Gennesaret the people “brought all who were sick to him, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed” (Matthew 14:35b–36, italics added). However, when he arrived in “the district of Tyre and Sidon . . . a Canaanite woman . . . came out and started shouting, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.’ But he did not answer her at all” (Matthew 15:22–23a). Since Jesus had healed so many of the sick in Gennesaret, I would have expected him to have shown mercy to this Canaanite woman, but for some reason, he said nothing.
Jesus’ silence is even more disconcerting when it is compared with a similar incident in Matthew. Previously, two blind men had begged for Jesus’ help, saying virtually the same thing as the Canaanite woman, and he healed them (cf. Matthew 9:27–31). But this time, Jesus was silent. The divergent responses lead me to presume that he must have had some disdain for or some other issue with the Canaanite woman—details that Matthew does not disclose. She had, after all, addressed Jesus with not one, but two respectful titles, “Lord” and “Son of David.” Given her proper greetings, if you’re like me, you’d think Jesus would have welcomed her entreaty, but strangely enough, he neither answered her nor acknowledged her request. To say the least, I find Matthew’s narration of Jesus’ silence perplexing. The scene’s tension escalates.
Another reason why Matthew’s narrative appears to characterize Jesus as harsh relates to the nature of his interaction with his disciples. Upon hearing the Canaanite woman’s shouts, Jesus’ disciples approached him; and even though they weren’t always receptive to outsiders (cf. Matthew 19:13–15; Mark 9:38–41; Luke 9:49–56; John 4:27), in this case, it seems reasonable to expect them to come to the aid of a mother with a sick child.
But they did not. On the contrary, their reaction was even more off-putting than that of Jesus. Whereas he simply did not answer her request, his companions urged Jesus to “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us” (Matthew 15:23b). Her persistence annoyed them, so in their judgment the best solution was to get rid of her.
Although Jesus didn’t initially speak to the woman when she begged for help, he did speak to his disciples, but in a disturbing way. Instead of reprimanding them for their condescension, he accentuated it with, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 15:24, italics added).
A frantic mother begged for help and what happened? Jesus said nothing and his disciples multiplied her grief with their rejection. Following that, Jesus reinforced their unsympathetic stance with a remark full of ethnic exclusivity. Given all that, there must have been little reason for her to hope. Here she was alone, begging for help from these men, strangers—one of whom was said to have healed so many in Galilee. Despite their ability to help, inexplicably neither Jesus nor his disciples came to her aid at this point.
Nevertheless, rather than turning and walking away, this woman did what desperate mothers do—she renewed her plea for help. She could not afford to be dissuaded by their rejection. She was a mother. Her daughter was ill. She had to try again.
—from “Feed the Dogs”