Crumbs

Thoughts on Matthew 15

At surface level, Matthew 15:21-28 can be troubling. Let’s read it together:

²¹ And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. ²² And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” ²³ But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out 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 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! Let it be done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

Interestingly, this passage starts with Jesus leaving the Pharisees, who were offended at His teaching, for Tyre and Sidon, Gentile cities to the north of Israel. (It’s almost as if He had a divine appointment to make with a certain Syrophoenician woman…)

We have much to learn from her. Her first recorded words, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David,” were echoed with her posture as she knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” When He responded that He was sent to Israel, she, unlike the religious leaders of His own people, was not offended. She was honest enough with herself to agree that Jesus’ assessment of her was right and true. And, she had the faith to ask for her daughter’s healing anyway, comparing herself to a dog happily receiving crumbs under its master’s table. Some scholars think Jesus’ whole response was about drawing out her faith, which He then commended.

We recently celebrated my husband’s birthday with cocoa-cardamom-cinnamon buns with spices from Israel, which arrived (along with the recipe) in my Christmas Artzabox. We can’t afford our dream trip to the Holy Land, so we instead experience a little taste—crumbs, if you will—of its sights and smells in a small box shipped quarterly to our home. The buns were exquisite, and not one crumb went to waste.

At risk of sounding cliché, the little things in life really are the big things. Watching your baby take her first shaky step. Hearing your child sound out his first words and sentences. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your cheek after a month straight of subzero temperatures. A timely word of encouragement. Seeing a brother or sister who has wandered away walk back into church one morning.

All that to say, some crumbs are truly precious and worthy of gathering up.

If you’ve been around Grace Notes for a while, you know Catechesis of the Good Shepherd has been transformative in my understanding of Scripture and the liturgy. Upon completing level one formation (training), Josh and I drove home as sunlight saturated the road ahead. A theological feast had been carefully prepared and laid before me each day for around two weeks (stretched throughout the course of a year), and I filled the silence with highlights of all I had heard and received. After sharing all of the starred and underlined epiphanies in my notebook, I said, “And these are just the crumbs!” With shining eyes, my husband remarked that even the crumbs were rich.

Every Sunday in the liturgy, we echo this Gentile woman’s words, which the Lord saw fit to record for us.

In the Prayer of Humble Access, we pray:

We do not presume to come to this your Table,
O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness,
but in your manifold and great mercies.
We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under your Table.
But you are the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy.
Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord,
so to eat the flesh of your dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood,
that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body,
and our souls washed through his most precious blood,
and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.

We then sing the Agnus Dei:

Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world;
have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world;
have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world;
grant us your peace.

And then our pastor says these blessed words, “The Gifts of God for the people of God. Take them in remembrance that Christ died for you, and feed on him in your hearts, by faith, with thanksgiving.”

You see, it’s not at all an insult to eat the crumbs of the Bread of Heaven under the table of the King of the Universe. If we have eyes to see, it’s a merciful invitation. As Ephesians 2:13 tells us, “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.”

For what is our Master’s table but the altar? And what are the crumbs He gives us but Himself? For today—His body, broken for us, blessed and sanctified with His Word and Holy Spirit, pressed into our eager, unworthy palms with a blessing—and one day, the feast that never ends as we recline at table with Him in paradise.