Now we get, in what immediately follows, the other side of the picture-the opposite of all this-the heart of God in its own eternal fullness of grace, brought out in the Lord's dealings with (not scribes and Pharisees of Jerusalem, but) a woman of Canaan.
"Then Jesus went thence, and departed into the coasts of Tire and Sidon. And, behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto Him." vv. 21, 22. Tire and Sidon were anything but Jerusalem; they were places proverbial for their wickedness. The Lord selects them as such when He says (chap. 11), "Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works, which were done in you, had been done in Tire and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes." v. 21. He holds them up as two of the vilest cities He could have named. Again: this woman, as a woman of Canaan, not only was a Gentile, a "dog" (v. 26) -that was her character in the eye of man, yes, and according to the truth of God also, so far as regarded the outward condition of things at that time-but a woman of that people concerning which God had said, "Cursed be Canaan" (Gen. 9:2525And he said, Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren. (Genesis 9:25)).
So here we get evidently the very opposite to, and that which stands in greatest contrast with, the scribes and Pharisees (the religious persons) of Jerusalem, and indeed with everything that could claim authority in religion, or even the appearance of a fair show in the flesh, a woman of Canaan, out of the coasts of Tire and Sidon.
But after all, how does this poor woman come? Her need brought her to Christ; so far all was right. But to have our need supplied, we must take the place that befits us. God cannot, so to speak, deny supplying our need; but He will deny till we take our true position. This is the great principle we have to learn here. She cried unto Him, saying, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.
But He answered her not a word." vv. 22,23. It was a case apparently greatly calling for the Lord's intervention, and she was entreating Him to interfere. Her daughter was grievously vexed of a devil, and He had come to destroy the works of the devil. She knew what His compassion was, but does she come simply on that ground? No; had she done so, she would have had the closest sympathies of the Lord. But she says, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David"! Here was faith. She knew what mercies He had brought among the Jews, but had she anything to do with Him as the "Son of David"? No; none but a Jew had any claim on Christ in that character.
The poor woman doubtless thought that, recognizing and confessing Him to be what He was, she might count on the blessing. She came in the way of promise. She owned the very truth of God contained in the promises, and she recognized Jesus as being the One who had come according to those promises. That was the case, and that was the simple reason why the Lord had nothing for her at all.
We may talk about the promises of God, and go away empty. When we talk about promises, they must be promises made to us-promises respecting which we can lay hold upon the truth of God as the ground of His dealing with us. Now, suppose we come to God as though we were called by the most gracious promises, the moment we confess ourselves sinners, we say that we have title to nothing.
A sinner has title to nothing; therefore, if we come otherwise, we are on the wrong ground, just as was this poor woman.
These are promises made for sinners, but there are no promises made to sinners as sinners. Like this Syrophenician woman, we may linger about the promises and not have a word. We must come as simple sinners, without any title at all but our need; that is the only title He admits. He will assuredly bless; for He has said, "Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out." But He will do it by making us know that the depth of our need is just the reason why He does so.
When she cries, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David," her own language binds Him to exclude her; she has not, and cannot have, any claim or title to Him on that ground; He does not know such a person. Here is the point. And therefore, when the disciples come and beseech Him saying, "Send her away; for she crieth after us" (only wanting to get rid of her as a troublesome beggar, as if they had said, Give her what she wants, and have done with her), He answered, "I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel." He holds to God's order. (See also chapter 10:5.)
It is a most important thing to remember that promises are not found out of Christ. There are most precious promises to the Christian, without which he could not get on for a day; but then "all the promises of God in Him are yea, and in Him Amen, unto the glory of God by us." 2 Cor. 1:2020For all the promises of God in him are yea, and in him Amen, unto the glory of God by us. (2 Corinthians 1:20). You may see a person going on lingering about promises, and, until the soul is humbled to the place of faith, until it submits to the truth and righteousness of God, the end of the story will be as the beginning, "I cannot realize them."
"Then came she and worshipped Him, saying, Lord, help me." v. 25. Now this is a good deal more truthful, and it brings out an answer. Her first appeal had truth in it, but then it was (as we have seen) on a ground to which she had no title; it was just as much as to say, Do not answer me. Now she gets an answer. But then the answer shows that Christ cannot go out of the way of the promises, out of the way in which God has sent Him. He says, "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." Here is a terrible thing-a terrible thing to be told by a person in whom she had confided-to be turned away as a dog. And are not hearts now to be found in this condition? They have been sent to Christ for help; they feel their sorrow, and they go to Him looking for promises, and do they say, I have got peace, I have got joy in God? No, they come back saying, I got nothing! They have not come down to the place where God gives help.
They are, like this poor Syrophenician woman, Canaanites of Tire and Sidon; and they have been talking to the Son of David as though they had something to do with Him, and something to expect from Him.
"And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's table." v. 27. Here is her place; she abandons all title and claim in herself, but her need casts itself on pure bounty. The Lord's eye has all the while been watching the process of humbling that was going on in the heart; and now that He has brought her down to her real condition, He can accede to her every desire. It is not now, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David," neither yet, "Lord, help me"! Until she gave up that ground (for He could not give it up), He tries her, saying, "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." But when she says, I am a dog, yet?-going upon what God Himself is in Christ, she gets upon the simple ground of the infinite fullness of God's love; and all is clear.
Her faith has pierced through dispensations; it has arrived at what God is. She can say, Truth, Lord, it is to the Jews that the children's bread belongs; I make no pretense to the children's place; I am a poor, wretched sinner of the Gentiles; I know all this; I know that I have title to nothing as regards promises; but there is plenty of help in God to meet my case; these dogs that are without eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table. What can the
Lord say more?-There is no help in God for thee? Impossible! "Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great is thy faith." There is no need of being a Jew to have faith; the Gentile that believes in Jesus has reached up to the place whence even the children are fed. No matter what a man is, when it is a question of what there is in God for his need, the case is simple. When there is the truthful admission that we have no ground of title whatever, when we meet God in the way of goodness, on the ground of what there is in Himself, all is well; for that goodness is in God.
The Lord is not now looked at in the way of promise (be that never so true); and He cannot deny what God is, and what He is in Himself. He says, "O woman, great is thy faith," and then, what more?
"Be it unto thee even as thou wilt." Whatever request she may have, based on the simple fact of the goodness that God had even for a Gentile dog, He cannot help answering. "And her daughter was made whole from that very hour."
Such is the difference between Pharisaism and faith. The poor, wretched sinner who comes to God, as he is, simply on the ground of being nothing -a sinner without any title at all-gets plenty of blessing. Then rest and peace are found. We prove Him to be love and nothing else. The soul turns away from self altogether, and feasts on the eternal fullness of grace that is in Christ. It draws on all that is in Him; its need is just its title to all that is in Him.
Even if we are not Pharisees, is it with us as with the disciples, a question of "parables"? There are no parables in the conscience. When a man meets God in his conscience, that man knows himself; he cannot help it. It is not a parable when the conscience is touched; it is what we ourselves are in the sight of God. Let our state be what it may (perhaps an evil one into which we have got by sin, no matter what it is), if we have been broken down, in the humbling consciousness of what we are, to the place of our own nothingness, the only question that remains is, What is God toward us? And He is grace, and to be proved to be such exactly in proportion to our need. Need but becomes then the occasion of displaying the suitability of His grace.
All comes to one single point-if we are before God as what we really are, God is always what He really is- grace.
This is, in a certain sense, hard work-to live in the continual sense of our need, and of God's delight in supplying it. What constant watchfulness does it argue! what walking in the Spirit! what abnegation of self! The Lord grant us the continual sense of our emptiness, and also the continual sense of His fullness, that we may take our true place as dependent on His grace and bounty.