Dogged Faith

Man’s best friend.  Loving and loyal.  Adoring and attentive.  Empathetic, protective, and supportive.  And often able to sense remarkable internal, medical dangers in their masters.   Who does not love dogs?  Sure, there are cat people, but dogs symbolize and exemplify unconditional love.  And they are affectionate.  A sign I saw recently offered a warning to visitors, “Beware of dog, he can’t hold his licker!”

Yet despite our love of canine-kind, our vernacular expressions do not esteem them so highly.  We speak of the viciousness of a “dog-eat-dog” world.  We say that ruined things have “gone to the dogs.”  Wretched illness is characterized as being “sick as a dog.” And of course, it is sometimes best to “let sleeping dogs lie.”  Even the Bible often speaks of dogs in a less than favorable light.  For example, Proverbs 26:11 and Proverbs 26:17 use some unsavory characteristics of dogs to illustrate the meddler. And when I was a boy, a fashionable epithet to declare someone unattractive was to call them “a dog.”

Few expressions involving dogs are positive.  And it is certainly not considered praise to be compared to one.  Which is what makes Jesus’ words in Mark 7:24-30 so shocking for their apparent offensiveness.   No reader of the Gospels can miss that Jesus’ words were often provocative, authoritative, and incisive; especially confrontational and explosive when it comes to religious hypocrites.  But Jesus’ response to a Gentile woman’s request for the exorcism of her “little daughter” takes us aback.

Hardly in sync with the racial sympathies of the Pharisees, Jesus seems to resort to them here.  The descendants of Abraham were supposed to be a blessing to the nations.  A kingdom of priests, a light to the Gentiles.  Instead, they had become a racist, self-conceited people who referred to all non-Jews as “dogs.”  And dogs in the ancient world were mostly feral, vicious, scavengers who threatened people, livestock, and property.  Much as we might view coyotes today.

For the only time in the gospels, Jesus here departs the historic bounds of Israel.  And in his upcoming ministry, he is more and more in Gentile areas as sets his face toward Jerusalem and the cross.  Tyre and Sidon, in modern Lebanon, were considered Israel’s bitterest enemies.  The homeland of Jezebel was filled with idolatry and paganism.  Jews considered the Gentiles of Tyre and Sidon as the worst of the worst.  ‘Dogs’ in the worst senses of the word.

We don’t know exactly why Jesus is there.  We only know he sought privacy.  Whether he was sheltering from the coming storm with the religious leaders or simply seeking a respite from the demands of ministry to have private time with his disciples before moving toward his passion, he sought to be in cognito.  Yet, his fame has preceded him, even in Syrophonecia.  And so, a desperate mother seeks him out. 

But immediately a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard of him and came and fell down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, a Syrophoenician by birth. And she begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. 

This scenario is a familiar one.  And until now, every desperate request of Jesus is met with remarkable compassion and sensitivity, even when the disciples beg him to send petitioners away.  So, we are unprepared for Jesus’ response.

And he said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Yes, Lord; yet even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

Not only does Jesus appear to refuse compassion to a demon possessed child, but he offers offense to her mother.  His comments even seem tinged with racism.  And so we ask, “What is going on here? Who is this?”  But a closer examination of Jesus’ exchange forces us to rethink our cursory offense at Jesus’ language and see that he is at once demonstrating for us the remarkable, far-reaching grace of God and the dogged character of the faith he gives us.

Dull disciples need to learn the lessons that the “great faith” of this ‘Gentile dog’ teach.  Jesus takes them on retreat to prepare them for the coming storm.  And the dogged faith of a desperate mother does just that. 

Join us as we examine Mark 7:24-30 and consider hallmarks of a dogged, tenacious, persevering saving faith.  We meet Sundays at 10:30 am on the square in Pottsville, Arkansas right next to historic Potts’ Inn for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join our livestream on YouTube