Dog is Not My Name

            There is a wealth of references to women in Scripture.  The ones typically cited include Paul’s letter to Corinth and the pseudo-epigraphical Paul.  These, however, afford an incredibly narrow interpretation of what the Bible has to say about women.  From the Hebrew Scriptures, we see their insight, as Hagar’s in calling God El-roi; their intelligence, as Tamar outsmarts Judah; their determination, as Hannah’s prayer and correction of the priest’s accusation of drunkenness; their bravery, as Deborah’s leadership as a judge of Israel; this sets the stage for the Greek Bible, in which we see women being supporters, followers and conversation partners with Jesus and carrying on ministry with Paul.  They are both bearers and proclaimers of the promise in Luke’s Gospel.  My imagination is captivated by all of these, but moreso by the Syrophonecian woman.  Many women spoke with Jesus, but she had the courage to enter into debate with him:

²⁴From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, ²⁵but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. ²⁶Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. ²⁷He 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.” ²⁸But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” ²⁹Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” ³⁰So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

Per the etiquette of discourse in Greco-Roman culture, this woman “won” the debate, gaining neither glory nor honor nor elevated status in society, but rather healing for her daughter.  Mark portrays this woman had the courage to draw God Incarnate outside of God’s own box.  Rather than accepting the word “dog,” as definitive, she redefined the terms of the engagement, making the “dog” the recipient of divine favor. 

            “Dog,” she replied, “is not my name.”

            The Syrophonecian woman unbinds the Gospel in a way that extends it beyond the reach of the expected, beyond the reach of what can be anticipated, and transcends inclusion and exclusion to point toward something greater than itself.  From the margin, as a woman and a foreigner, she sees the world a little differently, in which a little girl has value and voice, and the value and voice of her little girl shapes her own.  Voice shaping voice, we find a theological model for women in ministry.  This voice is deeply relational, yet intelligent; it does not yield to convention nor does it undo convention simply for the sake of undoing.  The Syrophonecian woman, I think, is herself, fully and unabashedly.  “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs,” is only the first word.  This word, “dog,” is – at first glance – accepted.  If it is accepted, then it is certainly redefined.

            I have witnessed women – myself included – hearing the first word offered and leaving, crestfallen and disappointed to wander the desert of despair.  Whether it is an offhand comment regarding the different emotional makeup of men and women and how it functions in church, physical appearance, or the power (or lack thereof) one is presumed to have, the first word is often accepted as the final word.  We run from the names we are called and descriptions offered for so long that we begin to run from our own name.  I think what the Gospel does is redefine the terms of engagement.  It takes the first name offered, perhaps originally as an insult or fault, and transcends it, defining it as the very place of God’s blessing.

            Hagar’s word came upon having been cast out; Tamar’s word came upon the command for her to be burned; Hannah’s in the face of infertility; Deborah’s in the face of war; the list continues.  Women are bearers of the promise and the first preachers of the resurrection.  In the case of the Syrophonecian woman, through a strange twist of terms, a woman called “Dog,” was renamed “Daughter of God.”