It’s told by Matthew (15) and Mark (7). And no, they don’t contradict each other at all.

Jesus had retreated north and west to areas outside of his normal ministry turf, for some needed rest. It happens to all of us who are His, and it happened to Him. Bodies have limits.

The area was called Syro-Phoenicia in that day. Tyre and Sidon were the principal cities. Enemy territory, from an Old Testament perspective. Jesus lived and died in Old Testament times. So what’s a good Jew doing in a place like Syro-Phoenicia? Basically, the same thing that He once did in Samaria. He’s ministering to a lost but very needy woman.

The people living in this area had descended from the cursed Canaanite tribes which had been, in the main, driven out from what we call today the Holy Land. Canaanites were supposed to have been cut by God’s directions from the diseased body of Earth like a cancer is cut by a skilled surgeon. The surgeons, Israelite warriors and their judges and kings, had been less than accurate, and Canaanites could still be found here and there. Still under the curse. Unless there were one to break the curse.

Do I mean Son versus Father? It was Father, the God if Israel, who had placed this curse on Canaan. Would the Son be so bold as to remove it? Indeed, that is why Jesus, again directed by the Father, came. To reverse the curse. To show the other side of God. For we all are under the curse of death. By ministering to Samaritans and Canaanites He demonstrated His love for all.

In Hebrew thinking of the day, though, she was merely a Greek. This term was used to cover all non-Jews. Paul uses it this way. A “Greek” was not necessarily one born in Greece, but rather one born in the Greek culture which then covered the world, language and all, a fact that Roman domination had not eradicated. She was a Gentile. A Gentile dog, they might even be tempted to call her.

Jesus was weary from months of ministry. He had asked for asylum here, no interruptions, please. But the text declares, and don’t you love it, “He was not able to be hidden.” True in your life? The Christ in you? Doesn’t he just reveal Himself now and then, though in shame we try to hide Him? Shame indeed. Why are we ashamed of Jesus? The cure for this shyness is more of Jesus. Abide more. Drink more. Taste more. He’ll come out. He’ll shine in you.

Excitement began to build in the neighborhood. One woman in particular, the subject of our story, was intrigued by the possibility of her demon-possessed daughter being cured. We are not sure of what symptoms manifested, but this wise woman, unlike most Westerners, believed in demon possession, and was not seeking out a psychiatrist for help. This was a job for a miracle-worker, and he had just moved in down the street.

So off to Jesus she ran. Not a bad idea. But for awhile it did seem pretty iffy. At her first request the response was stone cold silence. Nada. The disciples rejoiced that at least in this instance they understood and agreed with their Master. Here was a chance to show solidarity, when so often they would say things He had to rebuke.

“Dismiss her!” they said, in seeming agreement with his stance.

Jesus took it even further by speaking to them so that she could hear. But as I hear Him say this, I hear something else. I see a Divine Grin begin to spread across Him in the Spirit. Nothing visible yet, mind you, but the Plan is certainly in place. The surprise awaits all.

“I’m only sent to lost Jews. Only to family members.” See the smug attitude of the very Jewish apostles-to-be.

The woman is startled but not to be denied so easily. She bows. She cries. “Lord, help me!”

Oh this is difficult. Jesus only does what He sees the Father do, but this is becoming painful to Him. Nevertheless, Father is always right. He continues on, straight faced, sober, and now even – may I say it?- crude.

“I said, family first. Feed the family. It’s not proper to take the family’s food from off the table, and throw it to dogs.”

Doubtless there are those who have read and re-read His words, and decided to go to another religion. The surface seekers look for reasons to move on. The disciples, one of whom gave us this account, were not of that ilk. They asked, they waited. They knew that Jesus – right or wrong to their tastes and thought-life – was the Messiah. Was God. Enough.

The woman winced in pain, and though visibly shaken by such toughness in His words, she continued on, using the analogy He Himself had introduced.

“I understand. Families must have their food. But sometimes people accidentally drop some of their food on the floor. And those dogs you mentioned, even they get something. Is there a scrap for me?”

Jesus had known all along of the faith of this woman. But the Jewish disciples, standing before a Gentile company, needed to let this sink in. This, and Jesus’ response to it: “Woman, such faith! You can have what you ask.” The love in His eyes, the smile that must have covered His face, and the healing itself, all told her the truth about this man. A good man indeed. A loving man. A man who made her feel at home with heaven, as never before.