Feed me!

When our son and daughter went away to college the same year, leaving their parents empty-nesters (at least during the school term), I tried to recruit our family cat for a joke picture. I propped him on our daughter’s dining room chair with his paws on the table and a dish in front to demonstrate that we still had one “child” (a furry one) at home. But before I could get a decent photo, the cat had jumped to the floor, where he knew he belonged.

With both now married, we’re truly empty nesters, and the cat’s still around. No, we don’t set a plate for him at the table. But his internal alarm (or at least his sniffer) knows when we are about to eat, even if he’s off in the corner sleeping. One time as he sauntered between our chairs, his meow coincided with our “amen,” reminding us to “drop it down.” Yes, we have stooped to offering our cat scraps of “people food” —and he expects it!

That’s probably why I had more than the usual level of interest in a passage from which our pastor recently preached. He tackled the story in Mark 7:24-30 about the Syrophoenician woman barging into a house near Tyre, where Jesus had gone to rest. She broke social barriers of both good manners and racial discrimination to beg Jesus to heal her daughter.

Teaching on this passage often explores the use of the word “dog,” used as a negative label for non-Jews. In contrast to our culture (which dotes on animals), dogs of Bible times were dirty, diseased scavengers—something like four-legged waste management. Everybody else would have sneered at her as another non-Jewish “dog.” Jesus used a word with more compassion, kunariois, indicating little dogs, like a family pet (rare in those days, but possible). She replied similarly, but with humility as a non-Jew seeking such a great favor, saying the little puppy-dogs (kunaria) got the scraps under the table.

The spellings differ because of the Greek “dative” and “nominative” cases, but don’t worry about that. My point is that going a layer deeper in Bible study opens up fresh understanding of a passage, even the ones we’ve read repeatedly since childhood without knowing a truly accurate rendering. Bible translation, because it deals with diverse language families and evolving vocabularies, is a complicated art and science. The “close” word isn’t always the precise word. My friends who are translating the Bible into tribal languages can vouch for that!

So what of our cat’s begging at the dinner? Maybe it’s a reminder of how much more Jesus loves us. He doesn’t throw scraps at us. Instead, He offers Himself, the very best. Though unworthy of His extravagant love, we’re exceedingly blessed.