Crumbs
Original sermon given on The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost, August 16, 2026 written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
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“Crumbs”
Matthew 15.10-28
Crumbs
In the name of the Living God and the risen Christ. Amen.
The contrast between the first half of today’s reading and the second could not be any greater. That’s why many churches this Sunday will pick one or the other, but rarely both. We left them both in by mistake here at First Saint Paul’s — both Jesus’ disputations with the Pharisees (and the disciples’ follow up with him) in the first half; and his disputation with the Canaanite woman in the second. But as they say in jazz improvisation: “no mistakes, only opportunities.”
The opportunity here is to better understand Jesus’ difficult, even offensive interaction with the Canaanite woman. You see, our Lord withdraws away from an intense, legalistic dispute with religious lawyers. (What does it mean to be ritually clean, or unclean? What foods, actions, rules, boxes need to be ticked off to purify oneself?) He withdraws from the heart of Judaism to a pagan, enemy land of Syrophoenicia. These were the Canaanites of Baal worship fame — the Jews’ earliest and most revolting of enemies. It will no doubt be quieter there near Tyre and Sidon — no religious lawyers trying to catch him out; no surging crowds trying to make him a revolutionary political warrior; maybe even a bit of quiet anonymity for some solitude and prayer.
But no sooner has he entered this pagan land when he’s confronted with an “uncleanness” of a different kind. Our modern translations don’t convey this anymore, but St. Matthew begins Jesus’ encounter with this Canaanite woman with the word “Behold!” (Check out your KJV on this one.) “Behold!” is appropriate, for all that follows is truly remarkable. A Canaanite approaches him. A Canaanite woman approaches him. She repeatedly cries out to him for mercy. She calls out to him using a Jewish messianic title, “Lord, Son of David.” She calls out to him from her own defilement, for she lives with and cares for her little daughter who is possessed by a particularly nasty demon. Of all the “Beholds” of the Bible, this is certainly one of the “Behold-y-est”. Jesus has left his world with its Pharisaical debates, its hypocrisy, and its continual rejection of him (they are offended by him, remember), and he enters an enemy, pagan world approached by a woman who won’t leave him alone.
“Uncleanness” is not theoretical for her and her daughter. It’s not a curious “religious question” to solve or debate. It’s a reality they live in and need to be freed from.
But it couldn’t go any worse for the Canaanite woman to begin with. She’s delivered four crushing blows to her prayers on behalf of her daughter. First, there is silence. Silence from the Lord, despite her continually crying out using the best title she can find to address him. Second, from the onlookers/ gawkers. The silence is followed by Jesus’ disciples urging him to send her away, for her continual shouting is getting rather annoying. Third, the reality. Jesus speaks to her a hard but inescapable truth: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” — his earthly ministry was first and foremost to his own people.
It is at this point in the story when any one of us would either erupt in anger or recoil in shame. But she persists, now falling and flailing herself before him with less eloquent but equally heartfelt words, “Lord, help me.” And then comes blow number four to her prayers, the apparent insult which feels to us like he’s really putting her in her place: “It is not fair to take the Children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Really? Is this our Jesus speaking here? The “Prince of Peace” and “Lord of Love”? A Lutheran pastor related the story that when he was presenting on this text a woman came up to him afterwards and said, “This is why I can’t be a Christian.” Or as one woman put it, “Why should I turn to the one who calls me a dog?”[1]
Now, there a couple of ways that we can attempt to “soften” Jesus words here — some commentators attempt to, along with most preachers. First, the word “dog” here is a diminutive term — rather like a house pet. We might say “puppy” or “little doggie.” Perhaps this helps a bit, although there is some debate about this. (The word “woman” here is certainly a term of respect.) Second, it seems that Jesus is testing her — so maybe we can overlook the harshness with an eye to the larger picture of what he’s trying to accomplish, for her and for us.
Both of these might be helpful, but the better approach I think is to let her speak for herself. Note that she doesn’t disagree with him. She doesn’t respond with, “Why you male chauvinistic Jewish jerk, I oughta—!” Rather, she both acknowledges the truth of who she is before him (“Yeah, you’re right, I’m a Canaanite, gentile, dog.”) but even more, acknowledges who he is and what he can still give her. “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” (Matt. 15.27)
You see her faith, which persists through all four blows, is not in the end about who she is, or what she deserves, or what she can give, but it is about who he is and what he can give. She might be a “dog”, but she’s this master’s dog. He’s still her Lord, and anything from his table will be more than enough. It is this faith that Jesus acclaims as great indeed.
Our faith in Jesus is also not about ourselves and what we can offer — it can’t be. That’s why we need her story, as harsh as it sounds. We need her story to cut down all the pretensions we have of sitting at his table — our rights, our wealth, our family or cultural or religious background, our piety, our biblical knowledge, our great successes from this world’s standpoint. But she shows us that none of that matters. Only he matters. A female Canaanite and her little girl would be the least likely of anyone to receive healing from a Jewish Rabbi, and the least likely to acknowledge who he is, but healing they receive and acknowledge him they do.[2] Even if it’s only the crumbs, the crumbs from his table are more than enough.
The prophet Isaiah told about her, that Elohim’s house would be a house of prayer for all nations; that God will gather not only the outcasts of Israel, but foreign peoples onto his table (Isaiah 56.6-8). She is one of the first, but she won’t be the last.
This same Jesus, Messiah, was sent on this earth to redeem all people; call all people back to God; die for all people; give his life as bread for all people. Resurrected from the dead, he now rules over all things. Faith can’t be about us, but only about him. Unworthy, all; unclean, all; received, all; forgiven, all; fed, all.
There are times when your prayers will be met with silence. Times when others will try and pull you away from God. Times when you don’t like his answer, or the answer hurts, or you can’t understand what he’s saying or what he’s doing. Remember at those times the Canaanite woman, and her faith. She knew something bigger must be happening — that even the “scraps” from Jesus were worth more than all the bread from all the tables of this world.
This same Jesus welcomes us at his table this morning as his children through faith. Here he exchanges our uncleanness for his purity; our sin, for his righteousness; our death for his life. His “crumbs” are more than enough.
Come soon, Lord Jesus. Amen.
[1] These references I owe to “Lectionary Kickstart”, Concordiatheology.org, 12th Sunday of Pentecost A, 8-16-2026
[2] Gibbs, Matthew, 782
Image Source: Koenig, Peter. The Daughter of the Canaanite Woman, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt University Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://act.library.vanderbilt.edu/artworks/58530 [retrieved August 19, 2026]. Original source: Peter Winfried (Canisius) Koenig, https://www.pwkoenig.co.uk/.
