Proper 15: Isaiah 56.1,6-8; Psalm 67; Romans 11.1-2a, 29-32; Matthew 15.(10-20) 21-28
THE old favourite hymn “Great is thy faithfulness” marks God’s faithfulness to us. In Matthew 15.28, Jesus marks the Canaanite woman’s conviction that her daughter matters to God: “Great is your faith!” So, faith is a two-way process.
Two species of animal are referred to in this encounter: sheep and dogs. The “lost sheep” are the “house of Israel”, vulnerable but valuable. The shepherd cares for them (Psalm 23). The dogs are more difficult to explain. My Welsh grandfather said that dogs did not belong in the house. He used to drive milk tankers around Pembrokeshire’s tiny winding lanes, and the farms that he collected milk from had dogs, but they were working sheepdogs, not pets.
To understand gospel dogs, think of Lazarus (Luke 16): “Dogs came and licked his sores.” This detail does not show canine sympathy for human suffering, but the degraded state of someone whose uncleanness is intensified by his being licked by an unclean animal. The most gruesome proof of dogs’ uncleanness is the fate of Jezebel in 2 Kings 9.35-36. The most revolting proof of dogs’ bad habits is Proverbs 26.11.
Here, dogs are not beloved fur babies. They are part of the household, but not the family. The Canaanite woman and her daughter, being of a different ethnicity, do not expect to be treated as members of the house of Israel. Yet, in one respect, dogs have a more honoured place than sheep in this Gospel picture.
Although there is a family hierarchy (humans at the top, dogs at the bottom), still they wait under their master’s table; they are permitted to be present at the meals eaten there. As scavengers by nature (based on bitter beagle experience, I would call them “scroungers”) and hierarchical in their social instincts, they are not caused any shame or discontent by this lowly position, and so it does not result in discord. Dogs can be jealous in guarding food or seeking an owner’s attention, but pampered pets and working dogs alike understand awaiting their master’s will (Psalm 123.2).
One kind of creature (sheep) is contrasted with another (dogs). The owner nurtures the one and uses the other. Both have a collective as well as an individual aspect to their identity: sheep belong in a flock; dogs belong in a pack. In one respect, dogs are higher in the hierarchy than sheep: their pack can consist of a mix of species, human and canine together.
One insight unknown to Jesus or the Canaanite woman comes to us as a fruit of evolutionary theory: that we human beings should be counted as a third species of animal. In place of flock or pack, we have “society”, which blends elements of the flock’s nurture with elements of the competition for attention and resources which characterises the pack.
If I had to make a choice, I would much rather be a dog than a sheep. Unclean or not, I could then belong in a household — perhaps even a family. The Canaanite woman does not argue with being called a dog. She just points out that, however low the status of dogs within a household may be, they do have a place. And, by his reaction to her, Jesus acknowledges that she has a point. Even if we see them as the lowest of the low, dogs can have a cross-species bond with humankind, too, for which there is no ovine equivalent.
This may be partly a side effect of dogs’ serendipitous evolution of mobile eyebrows, which allow them to produce the facial expressions that beg and beseech us. Side effect or not, though, the fact of the relationship is real. The Gospel word translated here as “faith” (pistis) can also be translated as “trust”. God trusts us. We trust God. And between pet dogs, or working dogs, and their owners a real relationship of faith or trust exists. The Latin word for faith or trust is fides. A version of that word was the name of Abraham Lincoln’s dog Fido, and Fido shared in family mealtimes, permitted to eat the scraps and crumbs that fell from his master’s table.
Pet dogs and farm dogs can have both a place and a purpose within a household or family hierarchy. Dogs and humans can read many of each other’s moods and emotions. And old dogs can learn new tricks — even ones such as cajoling humans into feeding and caring for them.