“The Dogs Under The Table”               Mark 7:24-30                 April 29, 2007

 

SCRIPTURE INTRO:  What difference does the Gospel make

   in the way we are to approach God in prayer?  It makes a huge difference. 

   Perhaps nowhere in the Bible do we see this more vividly in this story.

 

INTRO:  I want to tell you three short stories.

I occasionally get calls from people who are passing through Cullman

   and they are out of money.  They find our number in the phone book—

   and call to ask if we will put them up for the night.

 

First story:  A man called and immediately demanded I put him up in hotel.

   I talked to him for a minute about his situation—

   and told him that we would put him up at Economy Inn—old Anderson Motel.

That did not make him happy.  Said he was calling from lobby of Hampton Inn.

   That is where he wanted to stay.  Never stayed in anything less.

   When I didn’t agree to pay for that, became angry.

Asked if I knew any other churches he could call that would treat him with respect.

 

Second story:  A man was so embarrassed and perhaps despondent—

   that he never even asked me for the room that he needed.

So how did I know he needed a room? 

   He made his wife call.  I was talking to this woman—telling their story.

   Heard a man’s voice and asked who it was, she said her husband.

   I said, Let me speak with him, please. 

She said:  Preacher wants to talk to you.  I heard him say:  I don’t want to.

   She said:  He can’t come to the phone right now. 

   I said:  Well have him call me when he can and I’ll help you.

   He never called back. 

 

Third story:  A woman called, needing a hotel room.

   Her situation was that her elderly mother with her and mother was sick.

Began to ask her some questions about where going, where working.

   Things she was saying made me think, No wonder she’s in this mess.

Then she said:  Pastor, I’ve made some foolish decisions and I’m not living

   like a should be right now but my mother is sick and I need you to help me

   with a hotel room tonight.

 

I want to suggest that our prayers are like these three people. 

These are the ways we approach the Lord when we are in need. 

 

Sometimes we come to God proud and demanding. 

   We think we are owed certain things in life—God’s job to get them for us.

   It’s wrong for him not to give us what we need and when we need it.

Even as Christians think this way sometimes. 

   We deserve to have our marriages fixed, families, hurts fixed right away.

   We are angry when our own personal Jesus doesn’t hop up and obey us.

 

Sometimes we are despondent and condemned.

   We see all our sins and failures so vividly that they just crush us.

   We know we have been such terrible fathers, mothers, friends, Christians.

We’ve done so many bad things—we just can’t believe the Lord

   would answer the prayers of people like us. 

   He’s the judge and we just know he’s about to swing the hammer.

So we barely pray at all and just hope things will work out.

 

And then sometimes we have a great need—

   and we are painfully aware of all of our sins and failures,

   and our total lack of deserving anything at all—but come boldly anyway.

We don’t say:  Lord, give me what I deserve based on my goodness.

   And don’t say:  I’m so bad, Lord, you couldn’t possibly be good to me.

We say:  Lord give me the good I don’t deserve, because I know that you are good.

 

The only way you can pray like that is if you know the Gospel.

   If you have allowed the good news to sink in deep

   and take root in your heart, and work its way out into your life.

 

And when God delays.  When we pray and the need is not met.

   It is the Gospel that keeps your pride from swelling up into anger against Him—

   and it is the Gospel that keeps your despondency from crushing your hopes. 

But your faith stays strong—and you keep asking, appealing to his goodness.

   Like Jacob, saying—I won’t let you go until you bless me. 

 

This is an incredible story.  There are so many details packed into these few verses,

   I want us to spend some time taking it apart.

Then some specific applications.  So for you note-takers, two headings.

   1.  A Model for Approaching God  (look at this woman)

   2.  Applying the Model to Ourselves


MP#1  A Model for Approaching God

Let’s look at this story—see what it teaches us about approaching God.

 

Jesus had gone to Tyre—which was a Gentile region north of Israel, on coast.

   Only time in his ministry he left the historic boundaries of Israel.

   The reason he left was to get some peace and quiet.

The Galilean ministry was exhausting—the crowds and demands constant.

   Remember that several times Jesus had said to disciples, Let’s go away.

   But whenever they went anywhere—they were discovered.

Jesus is 100% man.

   During his days on earth, his humiliation, he experienced all of the weaknesses

   of human nature.  He couldn’t keep up the pace—had to take a vacation.

 

His disciples had found a house—maybe on beach.

   And Jesus went into it and didn’t want anyone to know he was there.

   He needed a break from the needs and demands of people—wearing him out.

But this woman found out about him.

   She was a Greek, born in Syrian Phonecia. 

   Matthew calls her a Canaanite—which was an out of date term.

His way of saying—this woman was an unclean Gentile.

   Not in any way connected to God’s covenant people Israel.

 

It is hard for us to grasp the walls that separated her from Jesus and disciples. 

The Jews had historically looked down with disdain on Gentiles as unclean—

   and the Gentiles had hated the Jews for their pride and exclusion. 

You might think of relationship between blacks and whites in Jim Crow South.

   Just much, much deeper and with a much longer history.

 

But this woman pushed her way past those barrier—past the disciples—

   and into Jesus’ presence, fell at his feet and started begging him to help daughter.

Why was she so bold?  At first we might just say it was her motherly love.

   A mother will push through any barrier to rescue her child.

 

But then she does something that is absolutely amazing, that sets her apart.

   And that is the way she responds to Jesus’ words.

Have to picture this:  Matthew tell us disciples all wanted to throw her out.

   Surrounded by 12 Jewish men who are radiating disapproval.

   Also tells us that at first Jesus did not answer her one word—silent. 

 

Then he finally speaks to her and what does he say?

   “First let the children eat all the want,

   for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.”

 

Many commentaries go out of their way to try to soften this.

   Say things like this:  Jesus must have smiled when he said this.

   He must have winked at her.  There was a twinkle in his eye. 

One said Jesus said this in the same tone that we might say to a friend—

   “You old rascal!” 

 

But the whole power of this story comes from the fact that Jesus

   seems to have turned this woman away harshly.

There is no way to sugar coat what he was saying—and she understood it.

   Jews called Gentiles dogs.  It was an insult.  This was an ethnic slur.

   It meant unclean.  Unworthy of God’s blessings.  Outside the covenant.

 

But is wasn’t just an insult—it was a parable.  Jesus was teaching.

   And this woman does something that is almost unparalleled

   in the Gospels.  She does something even disciples didn’t do.

She got it.  She understood that this was a parable.

   She understood that Jesus was going very, very deep.

   That he was saying something profound about her and himself.

And she entered into this parable and let it speak to her. 

 

What’s the picture Jesus is painting?  Family eating with dogs under the table. 

Now, if you know Allison and me, know we aren’t pet people.

   Inside animals, especially inside dogs are gross us out.

Whenever we go to someone’s house and they have an inside dog—

   for some reason they are drawn to Allison.  It’s hysterical for me to watch her.

   Because I know she wants to kick the dog.  She’s nice but she will kick a dog. 

But even you indoor dog lovers will understand what Jesus is saying.

   There is an order:  You don’t take food out of your children’s mouths and feed

   dogs under table.  Children eat first, and then you can feed the dogs the leftovers.

 

Jesus is saying to this woman—there is an order in my salvation work.

   First to the Jew, then to the Gentile. 

Jesus concentrated his whole ministry on the children of Israel.

   He fulfilled all the great prophecies, called, pleaded with Israel

   to turn to the Lord and to his Messiah.  Came unto his own.

And then, when he was resurrected what did he tell his disciples?

   Go into all the world.  Go to the nations.  Go to the Gentiles.

Jesus is saying:  There is an order for God’s salvation plan:

   Jews first, and then Gentiles. 

 

And what’s her comeback?  She enters into the parable.

   “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

Saying:  OK.  I’m a Gentile dog.  I’m not a Jew.  I’m not at the table. 

   I accept that.  I won’t argue with you. 

And she’s not too proud not to accept Jesus’ judgment.

   She’s didn’t say:  If that’s what you think of me then I don’t want your help.

   She says:  If you say I’m a dog, then I’m a dog.

 

But there is more than enough on your table for me to have some right now.

   And even the crumbs of your grace are more than enough to meet my needs.

   And I want those crumbs right now for my daughter.

 

What’s so unusual about her boldness?

   What makes us bold?  Our rights.  Our dignity.

   If we have something to stand on we fight for what is owed to us.

She doesn’t assert her rights.

   She doesn’t stand on her dignity. 

   She doesn’t say, Lord give me what I deserve based on my goodness.

 

She says:  Give me what I deserve based on your goodness.

   I know you are not so harsh that you would deny your dogs the crumbs. 

 

What was Jesus’ response: 

   “For such a reply you may go, the demon has left your daughter.”

Remarkable faith.  Remarkable boldness. 

   She is like Jacob wrestling with the Lord who said:

   “I will not let you go until you bless me.”

And she needed no sign.  She did not need Jesus to come and place hands on girl.

   She went and found things exactly as she expected. 

 

She probably never saw Jesus again physically.

But every time she came to Jesus in prayer—she approached him in the same way.

   Not standing on her goodness, but trusting in His.

So this woman stands as a model of faith, model for approaching God.


MP#2  Applying the Model to Ourselves

Now, let’s apply this model to ourselves.

   Look at what her encounter with Jesus and response teaches us. Two applications.

 

1.  You must look to the cross to understand the Lord’s harsh answers.

Has it ever seemed to you that Jesus is treating you like he treated this woman?

   First he was silent, ignoring her pleas.

   Then he turned her away with a harsh answer.

Have you ever prayed for something very important to you

   a child perhaps, or a spouse—and you hear nothing from the Lord.

   In fact, things seem to get worse.

 

We see this often in the Psalms.

   Often the Psalm writers cry out because it seems that the Lord

   is indifferent to their prayers.  He is not answering, he is silent.

And then when he does answer—it seems to be an unfeeling, uncaring answer.

   More troubles, more heartbreak.  Betrayal by friends, boasting enemies.

Hasn’t that been the experience of Christians through the ages.

   There are times when it seems that Jesus is refusing to answer our prayers.

 

Unbelievers have an answer for this.  It doesn’t work.

   You trusted Jesus for what you needed and got nothing in return.

   It’s time you face the facts that nothing is there.  Prayer is a crutch.

 

But we know that even though Jesus was silent—he was not ignoring her.

   Even though his answer seemed harsh—he was not turning her away.

   In fact, hidden behind his “No” was a “Yes.”

It was her faith in Christ that enabled her to look past the appearances

   and remain certain of his goodness.

 

True faith believes in Jesus and the Word of God

   in spite of what appear to be his harsh answers. 

In fact, the Bible, through stories like this, Psalms, Ecclesiastes, Job—

   has warned us that this will often be our experience in this life. 

   That’s what it means to live by faith.

 

So where do you look when God’s answer seems so harsh and uncaring?

   You look at the cross.  The death of Jesus is the ultimate proof

   that behind God’s apparent harshness is his love and goodness.

What could be more harsh than the cross, when Jesus cried out but was forsaken?

   What could be better than the salvation that he purchased there?

Jesus called this woman a dog—unclean, outside the covenant blessing.

   But what did he become on the cross? 

   He became a dog, unclean and cast out.

So that we could be sons and daughters forever. 

   So that we would always have a place at the table and feast on God’s goodness.

 

And so, when it seems that Jesus himself has ignored you,

   or given you trouble when you prayed for peace—

   lift your eyes in faith and look to the cross—believe that behind this harshness—

   is Christ’s goodness and blessing.

 

2.  You must use the Gospel to address your pride and your despondency.

There are two attitudes that will keep you from approaching Jesus with faith.

   Pride and despondency.  Two sides of the same coin.

 

Pride says:  I deserve a certain life.

I’ve been honest in my business, faithful in my marriage,

   regular in my church attendance—give me what I want.

And when he doesn’t, you get angry. 

 

Most of our anger—at people and circumstances really anger at Lord—

   for not giving us the life we think we deserve.

There are many people—even Christians fall into this—

   who are angry because God hasn’t given them whatever—

   spouse, children, standard of living—or taken things away. 

 

But I don’t think pride and anger is the thing that most of you struggle with—

   it’s probably self-condemnation that leads to despondency.

You know only too well that you do not deserve anything from the Lord.

   You look at your life and you see your sins and failures.

   You’ve been a bad parent, bad spouse—failed as a Christian.

And you say to yourself—God can’t bless me.  I don’t deserve it.

 

That seems holy.  Seems better than person who is proud and angry at God.

   But it’s not.  It’s just as insulting to God. 

Because what you are saying is that God is not gracious enough—

   he’s not loving enough to keep his promises.

There is a deep self-righteousness in your self-condemnation that says—

   If only I had been a better person, then God would have blessed me. 

 

This woman could have responded either way.

She could have responded with pride and anger—I’m not a dog!

   I’m a good person.  You give me what I want.

Or she could have responded with self-condemnation and despondency—I’m a dog.

   I’m so bad.  Jesus would never bless a person like me.

But she did neither—let the Gospel address both attitudes.

Presbyterian minister Jack Miller put it this way a number of years ago:

   Gospel is that you are more wicked and sinful than you ever dared to admit.

   At the same time, you are, in Christ, more loved and accepted

    than you ever dared to hope.

 

Gospel destroys your pride and anger because it tells you that what you

   really deserve is to die and go to hell.

But then the Gospel turns right around and it destroys your condemnation

   and despondency because it tells you that Lord loves you

   and wants to bless you.

 

You are a sinner and a saint.  You are a dog under the table—beloved child at table.

   When you realize that you can come to the Lord with any request—

   and take yourself totally out of the equation and appeal to his goodness.

At the beginning of sermon—told you about those three people asking for rooms.

   Why do you think that last woman moved me so much?

   It was her appeal to my kindness. 

I’m in need and even though I’ve made lots of mistakes,

   I know that as a minister you will not turn me away.

   To turn her away would have been to go against myself.

 

Embrace the Gospel. 

Embrace all that it says about the depth of your sin.

   Let that destroy your pride and anger.

Embrace all that is says about God’s love for you in Christ.

   Let that destroy your feelings of condemnation and despondency.

   Come boldly to the Lord and appeal to his goodness.

 

 

 


CONC:  Prayer of approach to Communion.  First Book of Common Prayer.

Based on this story.  Wonderful—not just for Communion—every day.

 

We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord,

   Trusting in our own righteousness,

   But in thy manifold and great mercies.

We are not worthy So much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. 

   But thou art the same Lord, Whose property is always to have mercy.

 

That’s the way we are to approach God—not trusting in our righteousness—

   that will lead to pride and anger or condemnation and despondency.

But trusting in the One who is always merciful and good.

 

As we do this, confidently looking at the cross—

   which shows us that even the answer of Jesus that seem to be harsh—

   are really not, but merely tests of faith, until we gather and the feast,

   and enjoy his blessings forevermore.