“Now the woman was a gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.'” – Mark 7:26-27

I had no illusions, Jesus.

I almost didn’t spot you, though I looked.
A neighbor mentioned casually that
“a healer Jew from Galilee” was near
as if it made no difference to me.

You know it did, Jesus.

I left my wailing daughter with a friend
and searched the streets to find
a face I did not know. Despite our sorrows, I
know every face upon our streets.

I knew you from not knowing you, then, Jesus.

You’d made no effort to declare yourself
so I could not believe you’d come to help
the sick and demon-burdened in our village here,
but help you would, if I could have my way.

I had to have my way, Jesus.

I found your stranger’s face. I bowed
upon your feet. I begged you for
your healing touch to soothe my child’s rage,
assuage her fear, give to her peace.

I knew that you’d say, “No.”

You said it with a cruelty that nearly stopped
my breath, though I had no illusions, none.
I stammered out my need’s reply:
“The dogs can eat the children’s crumbs.”

I was not after crumbs.

No, Jesus, I would have it all.
Not all or nothing, I would have it all,
because what use is partial banishment
of demons burdening the human soul?

No crumbs, Jesus. All. And I mean all.

You gave it all to me, you know.
You gave me all your cruelty (I hope
you used it up). But then you gave me all
the healing power of your anguished face.

My daughter got it all.

She’s never seen you, Jesus, as
you know. You took your shattered heart,
remade it new, to heal and heal again,
and left behind a girl once more herself,

And your illusions cast aside.

A poem/prayer based on Mark 7:24-37, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Proper 18 (23).

The image is “Jesus and the Woman of Canaan” by an unknown artist (ca. 980-993) – found in the Codex Egberti, Fol 35v, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8096755.