Today’s find: Dogged

We met something of a biblical she-goat during a recent pass through the Gorges de l’Ardèche. 

We were there, in the south of France, to take in the spectacular view. But Mama Goat paid scant attention to our innocent intent, choosing instead to head-butt any unwitting tourist who wandered too near her nearby kids.

I had to admire the goat’s pluck and persistence … even as I resolved to give her a very wide berth. She reminded me of the gal we meet in Sunday’s gospel passage – the unnamed Canaanite woman who disrupts Jesus’ present plans in order to get what she wants. What she needs.

“Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David!” she shouts as Jesus walks by. “My daughter is tormented by a demon.” 

This story sticks in my memory largely because of how we’re told that Jesus reacts.

At first, she gets absolutely nothing from him: “But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her.” 

Eventually, he delivers something of a verbal head-butt: “It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” 

It all seems completely out of character for the Christ, who is (after all) Love Incarnate. Why does Jesus treat the woman so boorishly? 

Part of the answer, perhaps, is that Jesus considers this encounter a teaching moment for his followers. His seeming contempt for the Canaanite woman mirrors their own. But by the end, it’s clear that his heart has softened toward her. Which makes it clear, too, that our own hard hearts can change. Our hearts can become more inclusive and welcoming toward those who are Not Like Us.

And maybe there’s yet another layer to the teaching … a layer revealed in Jesus’ reference to the dogs. I’m told the word he uses here translates less like “cur” and more like “pet” or “lap dog.” As it happens, I encountered more than a few such canine companions while in France – oddly enough,  a dog accompanied almost every homeless person I saw in the various cities we visited.

“What’s in it for the dog?” I found myself wondering. It can’t be an easy life, hanging out with a homeless dude. But each animal appeared content, happy to offer a dogged loyalty while receiving little except companionship in return.

Jesus seems to know this about the nature of dogs. And perhaps he wants to show us something about his nature, too: His initial silence does not signal abandonment. Even when we’re at our worst, Christ remains at our side. Christ remains resolutely attentive to our needs.

Let us pause now…to recall that we are in the presence of the Holy & Merciful One.

IHS