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Jesus and the Canaanite Woman

Crumbs

Soon we will pull out our biggest platters and deepest casserole dishes. We’ll dig out the extra-large roasting pan and the extra crock pot. We’ll unfold the folding chairs, and assemble the folding tables. And we’ll put out all our dishes and all our silverware and all our napkins. And we will fill all of our counter space and tabletop space with as much food as will fit. Food that is rich, sweet, savory, salty, and oh-so-satisfying to our tongues. 

We will celebrate, together, with what I think is the holiest of sacraments: sharing a meal. Passing piles of food around the now-extra large table, we will not be embarrassed to take second or third helpings. We’ll look around at each other and say “Mmm!” and “Wow!” and “You outdid yourself this year, my friend!”

I can guarantee that most of us will put too much food into our mouths and into our bellies. There will be an epidemic of indigestion, acid reflux, and other forms of intestinal discomfort. Some of us will need to loosen our belts or unbutton the top of our pants to make room because this week, we will not just have dinner with friends. We will feast

And, when the time comes to clean up after all of this feasting, there will be crumbs. Lots and lots of crumbs. Crumbs at the corners of our mouths and in the folds of our shirts. Crumbs on the counters and the tables. Crumbs in the crevices and on the floor.

Even after we take a first pass with the broom or vacuum, there will be more crumbs to be found. They will be the evidence, the fallout, and the remnants of a celebration of too much-ness. A celebration that by nature cannot be contained by a pan, a table, a plate, a fork, or a waistband. 

The crumbs themselves are morsels. They are the tasty bits, flaky bits, and crunchy bits. They are a perfect illustration of Thanksgiving synecdoche because they are small, delicious parts representing the whole celebration. 

Delicious crumbs, that is, for the furriest of our guests. 

There will be some very happy dogs this week, content to know they too have a role to play because, truly, there is far more than enough for all. 

Scripture doesn’t mention Thanksgiving Dinner per se, but it does say a bit about feasting. It says there cannot be a good feast without good crumbs.

In the book of Matthew, a Gentile woman approaches Jesus asking for a crumb, a speck from the abundance of his power. This woman has no business speaking to Jesus, as a Gentile–and yet she says boldly, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely possessed by a demon” (Mt. 15:22 RSV).

At first, Jesus ignores her, and the disciples say to him, “Send her away.” She’s pestering them. 

But Jesus doesn’t send her away. He engages her in a strange conversation. Jesus says to the woman, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel … It is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” (Mt. 15:24 & 26). 

It’s a challenge or a riddle, or it’s both. But the woman can’t be deterred, and she can’t be distracted. She knows exactly who she’s talking to. 

The woman replies to Jesus with a challenging riddle of her own: “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table” (Mt. 15:27).

This woman sees what many of the “lost sheep” of Israel couldn’t see, that Jesus wasn’t sent for some people and not others. He was sent to reconcile all things to himself. The whole world! And that means Jesus’ ministry was never about the who– who would be saved and who would be left behind. His ministry was only ever about the what. What he would do for the world that he came for, regardless of heritage, social status, or geography. 

Jesus explained it himself the first time he stood up to read from the scroll in the synagogue. He was sent with the Lord’s anointing to bring good news, not to the Jews but to the poor, the brokenhearted, the captives, the prisoners of darkness, the mourners, the hopeless

… And to mothers desperate for small miracles, because there is no such a thing. There is only God’s grace, and so much of it that it stretches from east to west, and it spans both height and depth. 

And we couldn’t escape it if we tried.

I imagine Jesus having a twinkle in his eye and maybe a wry smile when he replies to the Canaanite woman: “Great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.”  (Mt. 15:28). 

Those are some amazing, powerful, almighty, miraculous crumbs! 
It’s hard to imagine the ultimate feast God has in store for us. If what we have now is just a dim reflection, then there is so much more to look forward to. And yet we are blessed, even here on earth, to see “the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living,” as the Psalmist says (Ps. 27:13). 

One of the Thanksgiving season’s go-to hymns, Great is Thy Faithfulness, explains quite nicely how we might give thanks these days: 

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow
Blessings all mine with 10,000 beside

That’s a lot of blessings. And these are just the crumbs! But these blessings aren’t scraps, they are gifts from our Maker, our God of love, the faithful One. The bridegroom who has gone ahead of us to prepare the wedding feast. 

Oh, taste these crumbs and see that he is good!

I wish you a joyful and abundant Thanksgiving this week! May your thanks-giving continue after the feasting is over and you find yourself sweeping up the crumbs. 

Make sure to leave a few crumbs behind for the dog. She’s been a good girl. 

But mostly, I hope you will leave a crumb or two to remind you of the feast. Not the one on the calendar; but the feast that will not come close to any celebration we’ve ever known on earth. The one that will find us completely satisfied forever–but without belly bloat.  

My brothers and sisters, I wish you 10,000 blessings this week, including a blessing for your Thanksgiving celebration, a blessing for your family and friends, a blessing for your preparation, a blessing for your feasting, a blessing for your crumbs, and many many many more. Amen.

About the author

Janna Rider

Janna W. Rider (M.A. Communications, UMD; M.A. Theological Studies, NES) lives in Rochester, NY with her husband and their dog, Clementine. She is a Communications Professional with decades of experience ghostwriting for executives and writing on behalf of global corporations. Outside of work, Janna writes with a mission: to change her readers’ minds about God.