The Syrophoenecian woman in today’s gospel lesson has everything going against her when she forces her way into Jesus’ presence.  She is a woman and a Gentile from the wrong side of the tracks.  She really has no right by her society’s standards to engage Jesus in conversation, much less ask him for help.

Despite the dictates of first century custom, this woman does approach Jesus.  She is driven by something more powerful than ethnic or gender-based protocol; she is desperately afraid for her daughter’s life.  She throws herself at Jesus’ feet and begs him to cast a demon out of her daughter.  Regardless of our post-enlightenment view of demon possession, anyone who is a parent can relate to this woman’s desperation.  We will do anything to protect our children from harm, whatever it is that is threatening their well-being. 

We, of course, expect a kind and loving response from Jesus, but his initial response seems far from what we would expect:  “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”  When we expect Jesus to show immediate compassion for this woman, instead he tells her that his mission is for the Jews and the Jews alone, not only brushing her request aside, but seeming to insult her in the process.  For centuries, biblical commentators have debated Jesus’ rather harsh response here.  Some have tried to soften Jesus’ words by suggesting that he is actully using a term of endearment when he says “dogs”, referring to the woman like one would refer to a beloved pet.  Even when reading the original Greek, this interpretation is a stretch. 

I tend to agree with the commentators who say that this is a prime example of Jesus’ humanity showing through.  Putting this passage in context, we must remember that Jesus is finding it less and less possible at this point to gain a moment’s peace for himself.  News of his powerful preaching and his miraculous ability to heal has spread far and wide, and people are coming from all over to see, touch and seek healing from him. 

It was just a few chapters before this passage that we saw Jesus having to preach from a boat, because the shores were so crowded with people clamoring to get a piece of him.  We get a hint that Jesus is tiring of this constant attention in the first verse of today’s passage when we are told that he entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there.  Alas, he could not escape notice.

It is in this context that the Syrophoenecian woman approaches Jesus.  She is just one of many who are trying to get Jesus’ attention and beg for his help.  Yes, he’s Jesus, yes, he’s the Son of God, the Messiah and yes, he has the power to heal, but as our faith tells us, he is also fully human.  In this particular instance his humanity seems to win out over his divinity.  He’s exhausted, he needs a break.  It is out of this weariness that Jesus responds to the woman.  What he says to the woman is not entirely untrue:  at this stage of the game his primary mission is to the Jews.  As becomes clear later, though, his mission is ultimately to everyone, both Jew and Gentile.  It seems that in his weariness Jesus is trying to get off on a technicality in this case.

Many in the Syrophoenecian woman’s place would tuck tail and run, feeling small and insignificant.  As a woman and a Gentile, she knows that she is flaunting societal standards by even approaching Jesus.  Yet, despite Jesus’ initial response, she persists:  “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”  Though she is a Gentile, we can certainly say that this woman has chutzpa. 

Here’s where we get to the meat of this passage.  Jesus could very easily wave this woman off.  I’m guessing his disciples are ready to pounce and quickly escort the woman away from Jesus.  Everyone present is probably offended by this woman’s effrontery.  You can just hear them muttering to each other, “Who does she think she is, talking to Jesus like that?” 

Jesus, however, immediately changes course:  “For saying that,” he says, “you may go – the demon has left your daughter.”  Where a few moments ago we saw Jesus’ humanity shining through, now we see his divinity in all its glory.  It’s as if the woman’s words have reminded him of his larger mission; he has been sent to proclaim God’s love and mercy to all of humanity.  Jesus immediately recognizes the God-given wisdom of her words, changes his mind and commends her outspokenness.  Doesn’t it just figure that it takes an assertive woman to remind Jesus of his responsibilities?

Despite our discomfort at Jesus’ initial response to the Syrophoenecian woman, this episode in Jesus’ ministry does not represent a diminishment of Jesus.  This is actually one more example of the expanse of God’s love and mercy as revealed by Jesus.  When reminded of his larger purpose by the Syrophoenecian woman’s persistence, Jesus immediately fulfills her desperate desire and he heals her daughter.  However unsettling it might be for us to hear Jesus refer to the Gentiles as “dogs”, the end result of his exchange with the woman is a clear reminder that God is not unchanging or unresponsive to our needs, but rather is compassionate and merciful.  Jesus in his humanity may have needed an assertive woman to remind him of this truth in this particular case, but we only have to remember his death and resurrection to know the depth of God’s love and mercy.