Scraps

Jesus went to the district of Tyre.
He entered a house and wanted no one to know about it,
but he could not escape notice.
Soon a woman whose daughter had an unclean spirit heard about him.
She came and fell at his feet.
The woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth,
and she begged him to drive the demon out of her daughter.
He said to her, “Let the children be fed first.
For it is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
She replied and said to him,
“Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s scraps.”
Then he said to her, “For saying this, you may go.
The demon has gone out of your daughter.”
When the woman went home, she found the child lying in bed
and the demon gone.

Mark 7:24-30

Also inspired by this reflection on the above passage: https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=114492308223659&set=a.112923281713895

Filthy souls and all unfit,
mercy still we claim.
Begging, at your feet we sit,
weeping out your name.
At the table or under it,
the bread of life's the same.

What are scraps of heaven, Lord?
Heaven all the way.
Everything in just a word,
with nothing left to say.
Throw your scraps out to the world:
loaves and fishes, they.

Fragments of infinity,
infinite within.
Dogs beneath the table eat,
feasting like a king.
I will never worthy be:
Savior, enter in.

The Woman of Canaan by Michael Angelo Immenraet, 17th century – http://www.unionskirche-retten.de/seiten/bildpatenschaft/bild-18.php, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=37307817