Historic First Lutheran Church of Pasadena

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

I am happy to say that I have never done this, but I do know people who have turned up their noses for their entire lives at a type of food, only to later try it, usually by mistake without even knowing what it was, to discover to their great surprise how much they actually like that type of food. Do you know anyone like that? Are you maybe that person?

With a little mental stretching, I think you can say that is what happened one day in Jesus’ ministry to two people – to Jesus Himself and to a Canaanite woman. We read about that day in our Gospel just a minute ago.

The Canaanite woman’s daughter was possessed by a demon. She had most likely exhausted many other sources of healing, so she approached Jesus, an unknown foreigner, seeking and imploring Him to heal her daughter. That was a bold move on her part, something many people probably would not have done, but she did it. At first, in a response that often shocks us as being so unlike Jesus, He wanted nothing to do with the Canaanite woman and her daughter, saying she wasn’t part of His mission, saying that He couldn’t “waste” the time on her, saying that dealing with her would be like taking good quality food from the table and tossing it to dogs.

That response would have been enough for most of us. We would have taken the hint and gone away, probably mumbling something under our breath about that good-for-nothing Jewish carpenter: “Who does He think He is?” Some of us may have even been bold enough to return the favor to Jesus and shout something rude and crude back at Him. Somehow, the Canaanite woman managed to do neither of those two things, but instead to respond in a way that got Jesus’ attention: “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

In that sentence the Canaanite woman says a mouthful. First of all she says something about herself – and about you and me. She admits that she is a foreigner, an outsider, one truly unworthy of good, choice food, one truly unworthy of the same compassion and consideration that Jesus had shown for many others. Secondly, she says something about God as God was present in her midst in the person of Jesus Christ. She admits that there’s more than enough of God’s grace and mercy and love to go around to all people and that even a few crumbs of God’s grace and mercy and love do a whole lot of good.

As outdated as some people may consider it and as “damaging” as some people may consider it to be to the human psyche that should rather always be complimenting itself in positive ways, I absolutely love the old 1941 words of confession found in The Lutheran Hymnal. It’s a good thing that I love the words because not only do we use them in worship once or twice a month, but I get to repeat them 10 or 12 times a month as I administer private communion to our sick and shut-in members. Listen to those words:

“O Almighty God, merciful Father, I, a poor, miserable sinner, confess unto Thee all my sins and iniquities with which I have ever offended Thee and justly deserved Thy temporal and eternal punishment. But I am heartily sorry for them and sincerely repent of them, and I pray Thee of Thy boundless mercy and for the sake of the holy, innocent, bitter sufferings, and death of Thy beloved Son, Jesus Christ, to be gracious and merciful to me, a poor sinful being.”

Every time we say those words, or one of the other many versions of words of confession, we’re basically saying exactly what the Canaanite woman said some 2,000 years ago. We start by confessing that we’re not worthy: “I, a poor, miserable sinner ... justly deserve Thy temporal and eternal punishment.” We then confess the overabundant richness of God’s grace and mercy and love: “for the sake of the holy, innocent, bitter sufferings and death of Thy beloved Son, Jesus Christ, to be gracious and merciful to me.” Every time we say those words, we’re speaking with the boldness and faith of the Canaanite woman. We’re throwing ourselves at the feet of Jesus, not wanting to bother Him, hoping simply for leftovers, for some crumbs that might happen to fall from the Master’s table. To our amazement, Jesus responds not with crumbs, but with the absolute finest of fare.

We got to witness that again this morning. Eight years ago, Mike and Shirley, for reasons that I cannot any longer remember, chose to get married here at Historic First Lutheran Church. They could have gotten married in someone’s backyard. They could have gotten married at City Hall. But they chose to get married here at this altar, with the eyes of their reigning Savior looking down at them. They approached Him humbly, asking His blessing upon joining as husband and wife. The Lord has been good to them and has blessed them. Twice they have approached this altar with their daughters, Samantha and Sophia. They have brought them here looking for some additional crumbs from the table of their Master. And Jesus has responded by forgiving their every sin and by adopting them into His family. Today they have returned again, this time with their son, Nicholas, and with Shirley herself: “Lord! Son of David! Have mercy on me!” And again today, Jesus has responded to those words and actions of faith with much more than crumbs. Jesus has again today responded with life – with life here and now and with life eternal. It is truly as incredible an event for them as it was for the Canaanite woman.

The crumbs get thrown off the Master’s table not just in the direction of Mike and Shirley and their children. The crumbs also get thrown off our Master’s table in the direction of each of us. We do not deserve such consideration. We are not worthy of even a portion of what God gives us. We cannot explain the overabundant grace and mercy and love that God bestows upon us. We cannot explain God, but again today we get much more than just crumbs. Again today we get to walk past the baptismal font and stick our fingers into the water that has welcomed as members of God’s own family. We then proceed to the altar where we hear Jesus’ words, “Take and eat. This is My Body. Take and drink. This is My Blood.”

Those are more than crumbs, my friends. That’s the finest of fair, food beyond comparison, food that feeds faith, food that heals, food that strengthens, food that forgives.

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Pastor Christopher Schaar
Historic First Lutheran Church of Pasadena