I have searched for Douglas Wilson's writings on Mark 7:24-30 and related theological topics. The search results provide some insight into his views on the interaction between Jesus and the Canaanite woman, particularly concerning the ethnic dynamics and the nature of Jesus's mission. There's a controversial quote where he uses provocative language to illustrate what he sees as Jesus testing the disciples' prejudices. Other results touch on his broader theology regarding Jews and Gentiles, the nature of faith, and persistence in prayer. While a direct, clause-by-clause commentary on this specific passage from his websites didn't surface, there is enough material to construct a commentary that accurately reflects his style and theological commitments. I can infer how he would interpret the passage based on his known theological positions on covenant, faith, and the unfolding of God's redemptive plan to include the Gentiles. I will proceed with writing the commentary based on the information gathered.
Commentary - Mark 7:24-30

Commentary - Mark 7:24-30

Bird's-eye view

In this brief but potent account, we see the gospel beginning to burst the banks of its initial course. Jesus, having just dealt with the manufactured, external piety of the Pharisees, now travels into Gentile territory. This is not an accident. He is deliberately pressing the boundaries. His mission is first to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, yes, but the plan was always for the river of life to flood the entire world. Here, in the region of Tyre, we get a foretaste of Pentecost. A Gentile woman, a Syrophoenician, comes to Him with a desperate need and a tenacious faith. The ensuing dialogue is sharp, surprising, and profoundly instructive. Jesus appears to put her off with what sounds to our modern ears like a harsh ethnic slur. But what He is actually doing is testing her, and in testing her, He is teaching His disciples, and us, about the nature of true faith. It is a faith that will not be denied, a faith that grabs onto the promises of God even when it seems to have no right to them. This woman becomes an exemplar of the kind of faith that receives the kingdom, not because of her pedigree, but because of her persistence and her humble grasp of grace.

Outline

Commentary

24 Now Jesus stood up and went away from there to the region of Tyre. And when He had entered a house, He was wanting no one to know of it; yet He could not escape notice.

Jesus leaves the intensely Jewish environment of Galilee, where He has just finished a confrontation with the Pharisees over their traditions. His move into the region of Tyre is significant. This is Gentile country, pagan territory. He is deliberately crossing a boundary. We are told He wanted to be private, to go unnoticed. This was not because He was weary of the crowds in a simple sense, but rather He was managing the timeline of His ministry. The time for the full Gentile mission had not yet come. But the fame of this man, the rumors of His power, had already spilled over the borders. Like light under a door, the glory of Christ cannot be entirely contained. Even when He seeks seclusion, His presence is disruptive. He could not be hidden. The needs of a fallen world, and the power of God to meet those needs, will inevitably find each other.

25 But after hearing of Him, a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately came and fell at His feet.

Notice the immediacy. The moment she hears, she acts. There is no committee meeting, no weighing of the pros and cons. Her daughter is afflicted by a demon, a raw and terrifying manifestation of the kingdom of darkness. This is not a theoretical problem for her. This is a daily agony. And so, when she hears that the one who has authority over such spirits is near, she does the only logical thing: she comes and prostrates herself. She falls at His feet. This is a posture of desperation, of supplication, and of worship. She recognizes that she is in the presence of someone with ultimate authority. She is a Gentile, an outsider, but her need drives her past all the social and religious barriers to the feet of the only one who can help.

26 Now the woman was a Greek, of Syrophoenician descent. And she kept asking Him to cast the demon out of her daughter.

Mark makes her identity explicit. She is a Greek, a Syrophoenician. In the Jewish mind, she is doubly an outsider. She represents the nations, the goyim, who are outside the covenant promises made to Abraham. And yet, she "kept asking." The verb tense suggests persistent, ongoing action. This was not a one-time request that was easily discouraged. She was like the widow before the unjust judge. She had one burning petition, and she was not going to leave until she had an answer. Her persistence is a key element of her faith. She believes He can do it, and so she will not stop asking Him to do it.

27 And He was saying to her, “Let the children be satisfied first, for it is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”

Here is the crux of the encounter, the statement that shocks our sensibilities. Jesus appears to insult her, calling her and her people "dogs." But we must read this carefully. First, the word used is for household pets, not wild dogs of the street. It softens the edge, but the distinction is still sharp. Second, and more importantly, Jesus is stating the current reality of His redemptive mission. The gospel was to the Jew first. The "children" of the covenant, Israel, were the first recipients of the Messiah's ministry. He is testing her. Does she understand this? Will she be offended by it? Will her pride rise up and cause her to walk away in a huff? Or is her faith genuine enough to accept her humble position and still press her claim? This is a divine setup. Jesus is not being cruel; He is mining for a particular kind of faith, for the benefit of all who were watching, and for all who would later read this account.

28 But she answered and said to Him, “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs under the table feed on the children’s crumbs.”

This is one of the greatest replies in all of Scripture. She does not dispute His premise. She says, "Yes, Lord." She agrees. I am not one of the children. I have no claim to a seat at the table. I accept my place. But in that acceptance, she finds her argument. Her humility is the foundation for her stunning faith. She turns His apparent rebuke into the very basis for her plea. "Even the dogs get the crumbs." She is saying, "I am not asking for a whole loaf. I am not asking to take the children's portion. Just a crumb. A crumb of your power is all I need. What is a trifle to you will be everything to me." She sees the superabundant grace of God in Christ. She understands that even the overflow from His table is enough to solve her catastrophic problem. This is a faith that understands grace.

29 And He said to her, “Because of this answer go; the demon has gone out of your daughter.”

Jesus commends her for her answer, for her word (logon). Her faith was expressed in her sharp, humble, tenacious reasoning. It was not a blind leap but a reasoned trust in the character of the one she was addressing. And because of this faith, He grants her request. He doesn't need to go to her house. He doesn't need to perform some ritual. He simply speaks the word, and the thing is done. "The demon has gone out." His authority is absolute, transcending distance and defying the powers of hell. Her great faith was met with the great power of Christ.

30 And going back to her home, she found the child lying on the bed, the demon having left.

She takes Him at His word and goes home. And the reality she finds there matches the promise He had given. The child is at peace, resting on the bed. The demonic torment is over. The word of Christ accomplished its purpose perfectly and immediately. This Gentile woman, through her persistent and humble faith, not only received the healing of her daughter but also became a forerunner of the great Gentile harvest that was to come. She demonstrated that the way into the kingdom is not through ethnic privilege but through desperate, crumb-seeking faith in the Lord of the feast.

Application

This passage is a powerful corrective to a great deal of modern piety. We are often tempted to think that we can approach God on the basis of our rights, our goodness, or our standing. This woman had none of that. She was an outsider with a desperate problem. Her only claim was on the mercy of the one she was petitioning. And that is precisely our position. We come to the table with no righteousness of our own. We are all beggars in need of grace.

Her faith was not a fragile, easily offended thing. It was robust. It was tenacious. When Christ tested her, she did not retreat into wounded pride. She pressed in, turning the test into a testimony. How often are our prayers hindered because we are unwilling to wrestle? We make a polite request, and if the answer doesn't come immediately, we give up. This woman teaches us to be persistent, to keep asking, to keep knocking. God is not bothered by our importunity; He invites it. He wants us to desire His grace so much that we are willing to argue for it from a position of utter humility.

Finally, we see here the universal scope of the gospel. While the mission was to the Jew first, it was never intended to stop there. The crumbs from the master's table were always intended to feed a world of Gentile dogs. Christ is the Lord of all, and anyone, from any background, who comes to Him in humble, persistent faith will not be turned away. This Syrophoenician woman is our sister. She shows us the way. Acknowledge your unworthiness, but cling tenaciously to His abundant mercy. That is the kind of faith that gets the crumbs, and the crumbs of Christ are a feast.