“CALQUES” are words or phrases translated literally from another language. Sometimes they are hard to spot because the translation gets naturalised in the destination language, like the Hebrew phrase “fruit of the womb”, which I have mentioned before.
At other times, the translated phrase remains unfamiliar, and is not naturalised through listening or reading. One such calque, still jarring in English, is “running dog”. In my mind it is indivisible from the adjective “capitalist” — not because I follow Marxist ideology but because I still enjoy the 1988 radio comedy, Lenin of the Rovers.
A Chinese friend explained that, in his language, “running dog” is very insulting. It refers to the fawning behaviour of dogs, running about after their owners to grab unwanted scraps, grovellingly obedient (evidently the beagle was an unknown breed in Mao’s China). Calling Tony Blair “Bush’s poodle” has a similar resonance.
The relevance of this calque to the Gospel is coming into focus. A related take on the people-dogs-scraps triangle — this time social satire, not Communist contempt — comes from Oliver Twist: “I wish some well-fed philosopher . . . could have seen Oliver Twist clutching at the dainty viands that the dog had neglected. I wish he could have witnessed the horrible avidity with which Oliver tore the bits asunder with all the ferocity of famine. There is only one thing I should like better; and that would be to see the Philosopher making the same sort of meal himself, with the same relish.”
Canine domestication began so long ago that it is not surprising to find elements in common between dogs and humans, each species adapting itself to the other. Yet, although dogs reflect many human emotions, pride is not one of them. They can be loving or angry, jealous or grateful, but they seem not to demonstrate that hallmark of humanity. By having a conscious sense of self, we — unlike dogs — are prey to self-delusion concerning our true nature, while they remain free from such follies.
From their first mention in scripture, dogs get what is too revolting for human consumption. Exodus 22.31 states: “You shall not eat any meat that is mangled by beasts in the field; you shall throw it to the dogs.” They are scavengers by nature, which makes the leap to seeing them as unclean an easy one. Any dog-owner witnessing the disgusting things which their pampered fur-baby will happily scoff must concede this point.
The last reference to dogs in scripture evokes Jim Hawkins in Treasure Island, given the black spot — written on the last page of a Bible — by John Silver: “Without are dogs . . . and murderers”, Jim reads (Revelation 22.15). Dogs are still at the bottom of the hierarchy.
Was Jesus’s reaction to the Gentile woman offensive, when he compared her, and her people, with dogs? Dogs and humans are separate species; so there could be an implication that she and her race are somehow sub-human. This would be a very uncomfortable reading for us who are sensitised to racism and anti-Semitism.
One commentator suggests that the Jewish “children” have been fed already (Mark 6.41-44); so it is now the Gentiles’ turn. But the woman is not asking for food. She wants Jesus to heal her daughter. How could he even think of not responding to her need, which (we may imagine) would cost him nothing and mean so much to her?
Asking the question this way is like reading the Gospel backwards. It is the Christian faith — instituted and embodied by Jesus Christ — that has taught us this “siblinghood of humanity”. Difficult reading it may be, challenging our view of Jesus as all-generous, all-loving; but it is undoubtedly a genuine snapshot of his thinking at that moment.
One clue is in the “the”. The Lord’s analogy is not a generality. Jesus speaks of particular children, particular dogs. Both alike are members of their family. Though dogs (standing for non-Jews) are lower in the family hierarchy than children (standing for those of Jewish descent), both kinds belong within the household, albeit on a different level, within a wider familial and social structure that is hierarchical. Dogs can live socially because they co-operate in a hierarchy.
I think of the human hierarchy as one of time, not status: the Jews are not so much “better” as “earlier”. The great Christian message that is Paul’s vision in Galatians (3.28-29) is yet to be declared.