Matthew 15:21–28

²¹And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon.

²²And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon."

²³But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, "Send her away, for she is crying out after us."

²⁴He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."

²⁵But she came and knelt before him, saying, "Lord, help me."

²⁶And he answered, "It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs."

²⁷She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table."

²⁸Then Jesus answered her, "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And her daughter was healed instantly.

Who are you? In any good story, movie, or book, one that you really get into, one in which you're caught up in the drama, you see yourself as one of the characters in that story. When that character gets into trouble your heart starts pounding, you adrenaline increases, you sit on the edge of your seat and then a commercial interrupts you and you can't stand it. When something good happens to your character you rejoice along with him. One time on a plane coming home from Germany I was watching the in-flight movie which concluded in a rousing orchestra concert. It was the climax of the movie and I was so caught up in it that when the song ended I broke out in a big applause, completely forgetting it was just a movie, while all the other passengers on the plane just stared at me and my wife slunk into her seat embarrassed.

The question this morning is, "Who are you in this account between Jesus and the Canaanite woman?" A child is demon possessed. She's suffering terribly. Her mother is desperate. The mother hears Jesus is passing nearby, and she goes to him. She cries out for help. It's the cry of a mother who will do anything to save her child. But Jesus doesn't even answer her. His disciples treat her poorly: "Send her away" they say. The mother is making so much noise it's embarrassing, and she's getting on the disciples' nerves. When Jesus does say something, he tells her he will only help the people of Israel, not some foreigner like her.

Silence, rejection, exclusion, yet the woman doesn't give up. Now she kneels before Jesus and begs. It's a heartbreaking scene. Surely Jesus will do something now. But no, he tells the woman it's not right to help her instead of the people of Israel. He even calls her a dog. But the woman presses on, asking for the crumbs that fall from the table of a dog's master. Now Jesus does what we expect him to do. He heals the child and commends the woman for her faith.

Who are you in this incident? I doubt many of us would say we're the disciples. They just want to get rid of her. Nor do we resonate with Jesus. He seems to be out of character. He seems uncaring, prejudiced, even mean. How about the demon-possessed daughter? No, we don't know her well enough. But the woman, the mother, the parent—yes, that's who'd we might see ourselves to be in this situation. She was also commended by Jesus for her faith. Now we know we want to identify with her. She was the good guy of this story.

But wait, are you sure you want to see yourself in that way? I mean, what the woman does is so foreign to us as Americans, so different from the way we live as proud and independent people. Let's take a closer look at her.

She comes to Jesus begging for help. She has to cry out, yell at Jesus, just to get his attention. Over and over she's calling to him for mercy. That's not us. If we don't get served right away, we take our business elsewhere. We have no patience for someone who won't answer us. We'll walk away and look somewhere else for answers. And we certainly wouldn't embarrass ourselves in front of others by asking for help. We wouldn't be seen groveling at someone's feet. We're too self-sufficient and independent and proud for that.

Finally the disciples were fed up with her yelling and told Jesus to get rid of her. So he spoke up and told her that he had come only to the lost sheep Israel. He seemed to be rebuffing her. But she still continued on. Even after Jesus gives her the silent treatment, even after Jesus says he shouldn't help her because of her race, she still kneels before him and worships him. She doesn't argue with Jesus.

That's sure not us. We're not about to hold our tongue when someone insults us. We've got our pride and no one is going to step on us! We like to think of ourselves as special people. We see ourselves as insiders, who deserve the best. I saw this sentiment on a bumper sticker: "Jesus loves you, but I'm his favorite." That's more in line with our attitude.

Then it gets worse. Jesus calls her a dog. Back then, a dog was not seen as favorable as today. Dogs didn't have their spas, and grooming salons with pedicures and shampoos baths like they do today. Small dogs could be house pets, but they were seen as inferior, lowly creatures, and even treated with some contempt. The woman simply accepts that position. She sees herself as a lowly, miserable creature, unworthy to be asking Jesus anything. That's not us. We have our self-esteem. We are proud to be who we are. No way would we see ourselves as dogs. No way would we see ourselves as people who don't deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. Don't call me a dog. No way!

And there's one more thing. The woman is content with crumbs. She'd be happy if Jesus just gave her a scrap. It didn't have to be much or even the best, just this one favor. Just help my daughter. That's all she was looking for. That's not us. We'd never settle for crumbs. No, we want everything super-sized. We're not happy with just food; we want a supermarket, a super-center to buy whatever groceries we desire. Not just a place to live, but a dream home, made over to be the envy of the neighbors. Not just any car, but a Hummer or a Porsche. Today we have churches putting in cup holders in the cushioned seats so that those who come to church have a place to put their coffee. No, we wouldn't be satisfied with crumbs or table scraps in life.

So let's ask the question again. Who are you? Do you still see yourself as the woman in this scene? It's not quite as easy to do that anymore, is it? It's hard to be so humble, so needy, so unworthy, so contemptible. Do you see yourselves as dogs who have to beg from table scraps?

Perhaps we should! Why? Because look what happened when the woman accepted the reality that she was unworthy of anything Jesus would do for her. She knew that she was an unworthy sinner before God. She knew that she deserved nothing but God's anger and wrath. Accepting that reality is what we call penitence. She knew that she was an unworthy, sinful person, but she had faith that Jesus was a loving God who on account of the cross of Christ would have mercy on her. She knew that she could come to Jesus in no other way that as a beggar holding out her empty hands for him to fill. That is what faith is. It is realizing that the suffering and pain in this life is deserved. That when we are insulted and abused by other people we deserve worse treatment. It is recognizing that the only thing fair in this life is when we suffer, die and are punished by God for eternity. Faith is accepting that the only way we can come before God is as a beggar. Faith is begging for mercy from Jesus; humbly as a mere dog looking for table scraps; as a beggar on the street holding out his empty hand for Jesus to fill.

And Jesus commends her. He sees her humble faith that acknowledges her unworthiness before God and trusts him for grace and mercy. For it was her faith that held onto him even when it seemed hopeless. Faith is persistent. Faith never gives up. Faith always trusts even when the situation looks hopeless.

Who, then, are you? Are you the woman who holds on to Jesus in humble faith? Yes, I hope so. Why? Because did you notice who the enemy was in this story? It was Satan. This was a case of demonic possession: "O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon" (v 22). No way the woman could do battle with that enemy. Neither can we.

There is no way we can do battle against Satan or temptation or sin or death because we are born sinful and subject to the power of sin and the kingdom of Satan. We are born slaves to sin and there is not good thing in our flesh. We are guilty and deserve God's wrath from the moment we are born.

Only Jesus can defeat Satan. And that's precisely the super-sized help Jesus gave us. No mere crumbs, but a super-sized victory over the demonic realm. Jesus took our place in the battle against Satan and temptation and sin. He did battle in the desert when he was tempted for 40 days and he won the victory. He did battle on the cross and he won the victory. He suffered the attacks and the temptations and the insults and the hatred that Satan and all mankind threw at him all in our place, for us, as our substitute, and he won the victory. On Easter morning that victory was proclaimed for all the world to see. He went to battle for us; he won the victory for us. And not small crumbs falling from the table. It was a super-sized victory of the highest quality.

Near Effingham, Illinois, just off the intersection of interstate highways 57 and 70, stands a silver cross. You can't help but see it. It towers over the road to a height of 198 feet! It's been placed there to witness silently to all drivers what Jesus did for his disciples, for the Canaanite woman, for the lost sheep of Israel, for everyone, even those of us who are unworthy of even a table scrap from Jesus.

Only the cross for Jesus was smaller, wooden, and at a place where he was treated with utter contempt. In that battle with Satan, it appears Jesus was the loser. He dies. He is buried.

But Jesus did not go down in defeat to satanic forces. No, he rose again on Easter Sunday. When Jesus gets rid of the demon in the woman's daughter, it was just a preview of our Lord getting rid of this enemy's power over our lives. When he rose from the dead, Jesus defeated all those forces of evil, and he super-sized all sorts of blessings for us.

Forget about crumbs, leftovers, and table scraps. Instead, these blessings come from Jesus' table: Forgiveness—huge! Heaven—enormous! Salvation—tremendous! And all are super-sized for us.

The woman called Jesus "Lord" and humbly knelt before him. She knew who she was, and she knew what he could do for her. She asked for a table scrap as a dog, but she received a place at the table with super-sized blessings for her and her daughter.

We can perhaps remember when we were children and our mother would come up to the altar during the church service and kneel down. We can still picture our mothers humbly kneeling before Jesus' table back then. That would be the same picture of this humble woman kneeling before Jesus begging for a crumb from his table. And what did your mother get? A crumb of bread and a drop of wine? Yes, but much more than that. She got a super-sized meal of Christ's body and blood—super-sized forgiveness, salvation and eternal life.

For us too. The right posture is to kneel before Jesus when we come into his presence and when we approach the Communion rail to eat at his Table. We come in humility to ask for his blessings, even though we do not deserve to be in his home. Yet the wafer is placed into our mouths. A sip of wine touches the tongue. Jesus' very body and blood are present, and those are not leftover scraps. "Take and eat. This is my body, given for you. Take and drink. This is my blood, shed for you for the forgiveness of all your sin unto life everlasting." Super-sized blessings indeed!

Who are you? The Canaanite woman? A dog? You are a child of God, welcomed into his house to eat at his Table. You are super-sized blessed. All because

Jesus Gives Super-Sized Help to Those Who Humbly Come to Him as the Canaanite Woman Did. Amen.