The Woman of Syrophoenician Origin

Hi all! I figured I'd dive in with a Gospel passage that has been troubling me for a few weeks now. I have copied the story of the Woman of Syrophoenician Origin below along with the reflection I received with it. It has been a struggle for me on a couple of levels. Primarily, the cold response Jesus has to the woman. It's not the warm and fluffy welcoming Jesus I'm used to. Secondly, the idea that Jesus came to only for the House of Israel. I'd love to know your responses to this passage and any clarity you might offer. Thanks! PASSAGE: From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone. Mk 7:24-30 REFLECTION: Worth The Risk “A ship wrecked off the New England coast many years ago. A young member of the coast guard rescue crew said, “We can’t go out. We’ll never get back.” The grizzled old captain replied, “We have to go out. We don’t have to come back.” (sermonillustrations.com; source unknown) You can live on bland food so as to avoid an ulcer; drink no tea or coffee or other stimulants, in the name of health; go to bed early and stay away from night life; avoid all controversial subjects so as never to give offense; mind your own business and avoid involvement in other people’s problems; spend money only on necessities and save all you can. You can still break your neck in the bathtub, and it will serve you right.” (Eileen Guder, God, But I’m Bored, quoted in Holy Sweat, Tim Hansel, 1987, Word Books Publisher, p. 48) Some things are worth the risk. Such a conviction is surely what motivates the Canaanite woman, a Gentile, who begs a favor of a Jewish healer. If she knows anything about Jews, she must realize that she is likely to be rebuffed. But this is probably not the only risk she takes. Where is her husband, the child’s father? Why hasn’t he come as head of the family to seek out the healer? Perhaps he deems it beneath his dignity to behold himself to a Jew. Or maybe there is no husband – she is a widow or woman who has had a child out of wedlock. In either case, her situation is precarious. She is a woman without the protection of a man.At first the encounter between Jesus and this Gentile woman proceeds as one might anticipate. She makes her request, asks Jesus to cast the demon out of her daughter, and he refuses in an insulting manner: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” To this day in the Middle East the epithet “dog” is reserved for those beneath consideration as human beings, as in “infidel dog.” In effect, Jesus announces that His healing is only for the house of Israel; it cannot be wasted on outsiders of no consequence.What follows is entirely unexpected. Rather than cringing and slinking away like a dog, the woman retorts, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” It is a gutsy performance. Jesus sees her great faith and tells the woman, “For saying that you may go—-the demon has left your daughter.”And so we ask ourselves, “What is worth the risk?” When nothing is at stake and we sit on the bench critiquing others, it’s so easy to feel smug and assured of our own courage. Like the Canaanite woman, we need to decide when to step up. When do we take on the risk of losses that would bring us to our knees? Only through vigilant prayer and communal support can we shackle our fear and confront the demons of belittlement and injustice. Kathleen M. Sullivan ’82MA ’87PhD