Dog owners and lovers, have we hugged our dogs today? Dogs are loyal companions, and we love them. Many of us have these treasured four-legged friends.
Today’s Gospel and the subject of dogs reminds me of the famous Fido living in Italy during World War II. Yes, there really was a Fido. He was found on the verge of death by a worker who took him home and nursed him back to health. And for this, he’d have Fido’s unwavering loyalty for the rest of his life.
Every day, Fido waited for his master at the same bus stop, refusing to move until he stepped off the bus even though Italy was being bombed almost daily. But one day, Fido’s master didn’t return from work. He’d been killed in an air raid.
Ever-vigilant Fido still turned up to wait for him every day for 14 years. That’s loyalty! That’s the kind of never-ending loyalty we get from God who waits for us every day of our lives – not just 14 years. God is patient.
Why do some people call their dogs Fido? Fido is from a Latin word that means “to trust, believe, confide in.” It’s the same as calling a dog Trusty or Faithful. Think of the Marine Corps' Latin motto, “Semper Fidelis” meaning “Always Faithful.” Therefore, it makes sense that one of our greatest presidents, Abraham Lincoln, would coin this Latin name for his dog that became his presidential pet. Fido was known to wait for Lincoln outside the barber shop and would sometimes carry a package in his mouth when going home with his master.
I began by asking about hugging our dogs because our Gospel mentions dogs and leads me to ask, are we barking up the wrong tree? Barking up the wrong tree is an expression meaning we have completely misunderstood something, or we are totally wrong.
This expression was used in the 19th century when chasing raccoons with a hunting dog. When the animal took to a tree, the dog was supposed to remain at the base of the tree until its owner arrived. However, in the dark, if the dog mistook the tree where the raccoon had taken refuge, the hunter might lose it. In other words, the dog was barking up the wrong tree.
Jesus, who was a Jew, calls this Canaanite woman a dog, and he tells his disciples to send her away even though she calls out to him for help – to heal her daughter. He tells his disciples that he was sent only to the Jews and no one else. How can that be?
The key to understanding this scripture reading and answering this question is the Canaanite woman. The Canaanites were the Jews’ historical enemies, and according to the OT Book of Joshua, God wasn’t too fond of them either: “The LORD said to Joshua, ‘Do not fear them, for by this time tomorrow I will present them slain to Israel. Joshua with his whole army came upon them suddenly. The LORD delivered them into the power of the Israelites, who defeated them. They struck them all down, leaving no survivors.”
With this terrible fate, we see the Canaanites were not on Jews’ dance card. The Canaanites were not Jews; therefore, in eyes of many Jews of that time, they were “dogs,” not pets as we know them, but as scavengers.
Despite this dog-image, the Canaanite woman put Jesus in his place and reminded him not to forget who he was: a healer, among many other things. Jesus’ surprising, ill-tempered behavior towards this woman might have been caused by his disciples who were badgering him before her arrival. Perhaps he was tired and grouchy. We can relate to that behavior born from fatigue.
Using this image of a dog, Matthew told his audience through his Gospel passage that Jesus also was for the people of Canaan – the non-Jews – such as those living on the coast in Sidon and Tyre where Roman influence and control was greatest. The Gentiles were there. They simply had to believe in this Jewish Jesus, what he stood for and taught and who they believed he was: the Messiah – the Christ. He was theirs too; his healing was for everyone. Matthew was spreading the Word, as we should.
The Jews who believed in Jesus and followed him, in time, came to realize they needed to share their table with non-Jews, the Gentiles, rather than consider them as dogs. Matthew made his point by having the Canaanite woman say to Jesus, "Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters." In response, Jesus said to her: "O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And the woman's daughter was healed from that hour.
How can we apply this reading to our lives today? Perhaps by asking and then answering a few questions. Who do we consider dogs to be fed only with crumbs that fall from our table?
Who do we look down on because of our own personal biases and prejudices? Do we hold ourselves in high regard and consider others not to be as good as us – other people, cultures, faiths, or political affiliations? Those with less education or less money?
How many of us consider the other person or group that thinks differently from us, as “curs?” A cur is a mongrel dog, particularly of aggressive or unfriendly nature. Too many of us think this way about our neighbors. Thus is the state of our political and religious discourse. We are to be healers, not curs scavenging for things to use against our neighbors to promote anger, divisiveness, and hate. This is particularly important during these tumultuous times of political turmoil and even unbridled warfare.
Finally, consider that we are all Fido’s. We are similar to Lincoln’s Fido that waited for him outside the barber shop and sometimes carried a parcel in his mouth when going home with his master. The parcels we carry in our mouths are the word of God and words of love. We must always go home with our Master we know as Jesus Christ.
When we bark, we should not be barking up the wrong tree or at other people we feel are different from us. Instead, we should bark up the Tree of Life given to us by Jesus Christ who is the resurrection and the life. We are his lap dogs who woof at him in anticipation of the food he gives us at his table – our Eucharist.
Deacon David Pierce
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