Sometimes, it’s hard to tell the difference between God and the devil. Think of Old Testament Abraham: was it God or some demonic voice that told him to sacrifice his son, his only son, Isaac? How could Abraham be sure that it was God and not Satan who was speaking to him?
And closer to our time: Was it God who allowed the earthquake and tsunami to strike Japan? Or did the devil do that? Is it God who causes calamity, anguish, and despair to have its way with us? Or is it the devil casting you down, trying to crush your faith? Is it God who raises the questions that twist and seize your mind? Or is it Satan tempting you with his demonic seed of doubt? Is it God who urges you to do your best, knowing that you can never be perfect? Or is that some devilish deception?
Deep down, these are questions we want answered. For life on this side of heaven seems as if we’re caught between God and the devil–because we are. And sometimes, sometimes, we just can’t tell the difference between the two.
Then we hear today’s Gospel, about the woman with a daughter who is severely demon-possessed. We’ve all been there. Circumstances way beyond our control have hit us head-on: illness, drug or alcohol abuse in the family, violence that strikes us when we least expect it. These problems, and more, point us to the truth that sin is real in this world, that sin is real in our lives.
Our Gospel reading tells us of this poor woman whose daughter was in the clutches of demonic possession. Helpless on her own to cast out the demon and heal her, she goes to the only place where she can receive mercy. The woman goes to Jesus, God in the flesh.
Yet when the woman gets to Jesus, it looks and sounds and feels as if Jesus is the devil. Three times, Jesus insults her. First, He ignores her prayer. Then, loud enough for the woman to hear, Jesus tells His disciples that she isn’t worth the time. Finally, Jesus calls her a little, yapping dog.
And what of us? By Jesus’ own reckoning, we are dogs, too! We’re not the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Our ancestors, according to blood and genetics, are pagan and heathen. None of us here probably have a lick of Jewish genes within us. Our physical ancestors didn’t cross the Red Sea or wrestle with God in the desert. We also deserve to be ignored like the Gentile woman.
“Yes, Lord. Yet even the little dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters’ table.” Did you hear the woman’s prayer? She doesn’t give up! She’s as stubborn as a junkyard dog–not only because she’s desperate, but because she insists that Jesus is the ONLY One who can help her.
The woman trusts that–no matter what Jesus says, no matter what He throws her way–He will help her in the end. The woman knows Jesus’ true nature–she has faith! And so she knows that even amid Jesus’ insults and torments–that in some divine way that is beyond her understanding–His words are part of His divine help that she so earnestly needs and craves.
And the woman knows that every answer, every taunting insult, and every seemingly wounding word that Jesus says–or doesn’t say–is true and deserved. “Yes, Lord,” she says, “I do deserve that You ignore me, because I did not come to You first. Yes, Lord, I am not worth Your time, because of my many doubts. Yes, Lord, I am a dog. Like a dog, I keep returning to the vomit of my own sinful ways (2 Peter 2.22). ‘Yet even the little dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters’ table.’ So I believe that–although You are right to treat me harshly and although everything You say is true–You will not, in the end, deny my prayer or Your mercy from me. For all I want is a scrap of Your mercy. And I know that You cannot resist giving a scrap, a crumb, to a dog like me.”
And that’s our prayer, too! And so, we, too, cry out, “Remember, us, O Lord, for the dogs in your house eat and are satisfied. Let us be doorkeepers in Your House and dogs at Your table. For without You, we cannot exist. Without You, O God, we who are trapped between You and Satan will only go to the lord below–and not to You. Without You, O God, we will only go to the one who seeks to dominate and destroy, who rules a kingdom of unforgiveness, who would give us all what we deserve. Spare us, O Lord, for we do not ask for fairness, or for what we deserve. We ask for mercy.”
Caught between God and the devil, the woman insists that God step out and help her. Although she is getting devilish treatment from the Lord Jesus, the woman trusts that He will not disappoint her hope. She endures, knowing that she deserves much worse, but knowing even more that God has not given up on her. She trusts that He will come through for her. For that is the Lord’s nature.
Like the woman, we ask not for fairness or justice, for that would only make us slaves of Satan. We ask for mercy. We do not ask for another chance. We ask for redemption and God’s intervention. We ask that God keep His Word. We ask that He crush the ancient serpent’s head, that He will be merciful and gracious, that He love us and forgive our sins, that He wash us clean, and make us His people again.
We are not worthy on our own to demand from God. And so we beg and plead that God keep His Word: “Be merciful and gracious. Be our God. O Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us. Relieve us of these demons. Bless us according to Your Word. Remember, O Lord, that physical ancestry does not define Your people. For it is faith that makes us Your own: the faithfulness of Your Son who went to the cross for us, the faith that Your Holy Spirit has breathed into our hearts by Your Word. Only by God-given faith are we heirs of Your eternal promise. And we pray to You because of this inheritance, this inheritance we have because Your Son died that we may receive it.”
And so we say to Jesus: “You died even for us dogs, we whom our stomachs and sinful passions rule. You died for us! You have declared us righteous and promised that no one, that nothing, can snatch us away from You.”
“Your Word cannot lie. Give us faith. Give us hope. Have mercy, O Lord, Son of David. Teach us to number our days. Deliver us from evil. Cause us to remember You always, to proclaim Your death in eating and drinking Your Body and Your Blood, for it is our comfort, our Life, and our future. Let us be dogs at Your table, eating the food You give to us because of Your grace.”
And so we see how the woman wrestled with our Lord! We see how she clung to His every Word! See how she emptied herself of every claim–and yet, she still threw herself on His mercy! And she was not disappointed. Our Lord said to her: “O woman, strong is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.”
Let us study this woman; let us learn from her! First, why was she strong in faith? It wasn’t because she had the right words. It was because she held Jesus to His Word. Her faith wasn’t strong because she groveled and begged. It was because she insisted that Jesus be who He is. Her faith wasn’t strong because she refused to give up. It was because she refused to believe the Lord’s “no” is stronger than His “yes,” that His righteous judgment overrules His loving mercy.
God has seen fit to record her honesty and faith. And so, when you pray, be like the Gentile woman: come to God and bring your requests to Him. Be like the Gentile woman: be honest; say that you have no claim on God, that you are but a wretched sinner. Be like the Gentile woman: never, ever stop pleading for God’s mercy.
And if it looks as if God has turned His back on you, don’t believe it. Don’t believe it for a second. You stick to Jesus like a burr on a dog. Be like the Gentile woman–for like the woman, you know God’s true, merciful nature. Stick to Jesus; keep praying and asking, relying on His mercy. Insist that Jesus be who He is, that His “yes” be stronger than His “no,” and that His mercy overrule His righteous judgment.
Think of it: most of us would take offense to think that we are worthy of only receiving table scraps. We want what Jesus serves on the table–not the scraps! But consider when Jesus fed the crowd of 5,000. What was more plentiful, the five loaves and two fish that Jesus served, or the 12 baskets full of scraps that were leftover?
You see, Jesus’ scraps are better than anyone else’s entrees. And that’s true for His sacrifice. What’s leftover when He finishes shedding His blood for the Jews is way more than enough to save us Gentile dogs as well! Yes, Jesus also spilled His blood to wipe out your Gentile sin, to undo your death, and grant to you the gift of eternal life.
So come to the Master’s table, even if it’s for His scraps and crumbs. Cry out for mercy with the Gentile woman, for we are Gentiles too, born of pagan and heathen stock. But that matters not, for God has heard our cries for mercy. And He will always lead you safely through suffering and the cross to His glory. God raises you up by His Word, the Word in the Sacraments, the Word that is preached, and in His own resurrection, on the Last Day.
Grant this, O Lord, unto us all. Amen.
