Luke 7:36-8:3 The Message (MSG)
One
of the Pharisees asked him over for a meal. He went to the Pharisee’s
house and sat down at the dinner table. Just then a woman of the
village, the town harlot, having learned that Jesus was a guest in
the home of the Pharisee, came with a bottle of very expensive
perfume and stood at his feet, weeping, raining tears on his feet.
Letting down her hair, she dried his feet, kissed them, and anointed
them with the perfume. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw
this, he said to himself, “If this man was the prophet I thought he
was, he would have known what kind of woman this is who is falling
all over him.”
Jesus
said to him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.” “Oh? Tell
me.”
“Two
men were in debt to a banker. One owed five hundred silver pieces,
the other fifty. Neither of them could pay up, and so the banker
canceled both debts. Which of the two would be more grateful?”
Simon answered, “I suppose the one who was forgiven the most.”
“That’s
right,” said Jesus. Then turning to the woman, but speaking to
Simon, he said, “Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you
provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and
dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time
I arrived she hasn’t quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for
freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive,
isn’t it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very,
very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is
minimal.”
Then
he spoke to her: “I forgive your sins.” That set the
dinner guests talking behind his back: “Who does he think he is,
forgiving sins!”
He
ignored them and said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go
in peace.” He continued according to plan, traveled to town
after town, village after village, preaching God’s kingdom,
spreading the Message. The Twelve were with him. There were also some
women in their company who had been healed of various evil
afflictions and illnesses: Mary, the one called Magdalene, from whom
seven demons had gone out; Joanna, wife of Chuza, Herod’s manager;
and Susanna—along with many others who used their considerable
means to provide for the company.
Luke
describes quite the scene and Peterson's paraphrase makes it all come
alive. Jesus gets invited to dinner. To the home of a Pharisee. I
wondered more than once this week why Jesus accepted this invitation.
Jesus chooses some unusual dining companions – only 2 chapters
before this story in Luke we see Jesus meet Levi, the tax collector.
With the simple instruction to follow him, Jesus leads Levi from a
life of dishonest dealings. Levi's life is so changed that he threw a
party and Jesus was the honored guest. And who was it that questioned
his actions? The Pharisees! They wanted to know why Jesus ate with
crooks and sinners...wanted to know why he didn't spend all his time
in fasting and prayer, like John's disciples and the Pharisees! “why
don't you pay more attention to the company you keep?” “why don't
you act more like the good disciples?” “why don't you act more
like us?”
And
now one of those criticizers invites Jesus to dinner? I feel like one
of those people watching a horror movie and yelling at the people on
the screen, “don't open the door to the basement! Have you lost
your mind?” “Jesus, do you really think this is an honest attempt
to get to know you better?”
I
recently had the wonderful opportunity to enjoy a local performance
of Othello on the lawn of Poplar Forest. Technically, I saw most of
it twice – but the first time I went a thunderstorm ended the show
a few scenes early. To tell you the truth, I think that the thunder
and lightning was an incredible backdrop to the plotting of evil
Iago. If you aren't familiar with the play...here is the nutshell
version: Othello, a soldier, promotes Cassio to a position that Iago
thinks he should have. Iago sets out to destroy the lives of both. He
pretends to be looking out for their best interests while betraying
them on every possible level – mangling their careers, ripping
apart their love lives and encouraging dangerous situations that
threaten their physical safety. And Iago does this all without
remorse or empathy...even as the tragedy hurtles toward inevitable
mayhem and loss.
I
have been thinking of that while reading about this Pharisee's
invitation to Jesus for dinner. Iago the Pharisee. “Come
over, enjoy my fine food and tell me more about this fascinating idea
of the meek inheriting the earth.” And
I'm yelling at Jesus, “Don't trust him! Watch out! Don't
open that door!!”
But
Jesus knew. And he used the opportunity to teach the Pharisee (and
all of us) about lavish abundance – something the Pharisee thought
he knew all about. But the Pharisee's knowledge of abundance was
worldly – and Jesus continued to show a whole new idea of what
having everything meant.
This
story has two distinct parts...first, Luke shows us Jesus dining,
Greco-Roman style, in the home of a prominent religious leader named
Iago
SIMON! Prominent religious leader Simon! This is a person with
connections, money, property, power. He was used to being treated
with deference, respect and maybe even a little fear. In the manner
of Greco-Roman dining, they would have been reclining at table on
cushions or low couches. Their heads would have been at table with
their legs stretched out away from the table. This is how the woman
approaches from behind to minister to Jesus' feet. It is a scene of
overflowing adoration. Lavish love. Imagine what this woman had to
overcome. This wasn't a place where she would have been welcome –
and she knew that. She would have been told by society and the
religious leaders that she was unworthy and unforgivable. She had to
overcome that. She brought very expensive perfume for Jesus' feet. To
acquire that she had to overcome the financial hurdle – maybe by
performing the services of an occupation she wanted to leave behind.
She overcame shame and unworthiness and entered into a place where
she might have been arrested, where she certainly would be degraded
and judged and looked down upon by people in power. She did all that
to fall at the feet of Jesus and weep. Would I be that brave? Could I
risk the shame or chance that Jesus would agree with the Pharisee
that I'm trash not worthy to touch his feet?
Simon
acts just the way we've come to expect from the Pharisees –
judgmental and elitist. Simon says to himself, “If this man really
was a prophet then he would KNOW what kind of woman this is falling
all over him.” And Jesus – seeing the heart, not needing to hear
the words of disdain – says, “hey, Simon...know what? I've got
something you need to hear.” And I believe that Simon said, “what's
that?” (I've heard a similar response when correcting my nephews. I
believe my niece's response was “whatever.”)
And
Jesus, being Jesus, gives an illustration instead of an order. He
asks Simon a math question. Well, not exactly – he actually asks a
fairness question. “If a banker was owed 50 bucks by one guy and
500 bucks by another guy and the banker cancels both debts, who is
more grateful?” Simon sees this is a no-brainer but kind of
softballs the answer, “I suppose the
one who was forgiven more.” Jesus resists dope slapping him and
just says, “you have judged rightly.” Do you think the “suppose”
in Simon's answer is because he already is wary? I think that he's
cagy because that's the same sort of verbal trap that he and the
other leaders use to wield their power. Remember the Pharisees
attempt to trap Jesus with the question about paying taxes to Caesar?
And the Pharisees who brought an adultress to “ask” Jesus about
stoning her. These are clever men – Simon is cautious.
Jesus
then goes on a tangent that Simon might think unrelated – he turns
to the woman who is still at his feet. And he compares her character
to Simon's character. Simon, who clearly believes himself to be this
woman's superior – in every way that matters – has to listen to
this man compare him to that woman. Jesus
lays out a compelling list: I came to your house, you didn't provide
water for my feet (which, btw, is NOT cool – one more reason I
think Iago/Simon didn't plan this as a social outing). This woman has
rained down tears upon my feet and dried them with her hair. Point,
harlot.
Jesus
said, “You gave me no greeting.” (also, not cool. Who invites
people to their house for dinner but offers no greeting?) But this
woman hasn't stopped kissing my feet. Point, harlot. You provided
nothing for freshening up, she has soothed my feet with perfume.
Point, harlot. He tells Simon that the woman has been forgiven many,
many sins and is very, very grateful.
He
drops this gem, “where forgiveness is minimal, gratitude is
minimal.” But doesn't even pause for that to sink in before he
turns to assure the woman adoring his very feet that her sins are
forgiven. Which, of course, sets the tongues in the room to wagging.
“who does he think he is to forgive sins?”
If I
were Jesus I think I would have summoned thunder and lightning to the
scene, smacked them all in the head and ended it with “who do I
think I am? I'm the Messiah, the son of the Most High God!” Jesus,
much wiser (and patient) than I could ever be...just ignores the
muttering. He says to the woman, “Your faith has saved you, go in
peace.” And then he gets back to his work. He continues on,
preaching God's kingdom and spreading the message. Enough time
wasted.
Where
forgiveness is minimal, gratitude is minimal. What we learn here is
that the minimal forgiveness isn't about limits in God's ability to
forgive. The reason that the forgiveness in Simon was minimal was
about Simon's limits – not Jesus'.
Simon
is limited by his understanding of his need for forgiveness. Simon's
perspective was one of legalism. He didn't see his own faults –
though he excelled at pointing out faults in others. Jesus hangs out
with the wrong people. Fault! Jesus is talking about first people
being last and last people first? Fault! Jesus doesn't recognize the
unworthiness of the woman falling all over him. Fault! Jesus is
lecturing him about hospitality? Fault! Jesus claims he can forgive
sins? Fault!Fault! Fault! He – Simon is part of the religious elite
– his place in heaven is clearly assured! He follows all the
rituals and the laws. How can he be in need of forgiveness? Where
does this Jesus think that HE has fallen short?
It's
all a matter of the heart.
Simon's
heart wasn't in the right spot. His position and power were
threatened and he could not even entertain the idea of his
imperfections. The unclean were to be avoided. The punishments were
clearly laid out in the law. He was so far above those sinners...they
were less than nothing to him. Forgiveness? If he needed some sort of
atonement, there were procedures for that. He and the establishment
had a protocol that would get them back into “clean” status. And
without a need for forgiveness – Simon hasn't the capacity for
gratitude.
Today's
lectionary reading from Galatians is all about the difference between
the old “rule-keeping” way and the way of Jesus – grace. The
Message relates Galatians 2:16 in this way: “We
know very well that we are not set right with God by rule-keeping but
only through personal faith in Jesus Christ. How do we know? We tried
it—and we had the best system of rules the world has ever seen!
Convinced that no human being can please God by self-improvement, we
believed in Jesus as the Messiah so that we might be set right before
God by trusting in the Messiah, not by trying to be good.” Verse
19b: “So I quit being a 'law man' so that I could be God’s
man.”
In
this story Jesus' response to the woman shows us three important
things about his character. These are things we should strive toward
in our own lives as we work to be more like Jesus.
The
first thing he does is accept
the lavish love from the woman. That he does so, scandalizes his
host. But it is the most loving response to accept this outpouring of
adoration. When others act lavishly toward us because of love that
our actions may have unleashed in them, we are to let it be, and
simply receive it. We live in a world where it has become
unfashionable to take a compliment. I'm just as bad as anyone where
this is concerned. If someone says, “what a lovely solo you sang.”
I say, “oh, anyone could have done better.” Someone says, “you
did such a nice job with the newsletter.” I say, “I think I could
have found better graphics for the front page. I'll try to do
better.” “That's a lovely dress.” “It was my sister's, she's
so stylish.”
Enough.
It's not authentic. I'm not being real. We've confused pride and
boasting. Accepting that we are loved is not a bad thing. Being loved
is a good thing! Being appreciated is good! Let's be honest with each
other. If something that you did or said brings forth a loving
response – you are commanded to receive it. How would this story
have been altered if Jesus had said to the woman, “thanks, but my
feet are fine. You are being too worshipful. You don't need to do all
that. I've got an ingrown toenail and I think I may have stepped in
mud on my way here.” No. Jesus knew that she needed to express the
depth of her gratitude and the depth of her need for forgiveness. He
gave her the release that she needed. Can you just imagine how
wrenching her guilt and shame had been to be mirrored by this
overflowing cathartic act of raining tears upon Jesus' feet,
showering them with kisses, anointing them with perfume and endless
kisses? This gushing spring of thankfulness borne out of a deep well
of pain?
The
second thing that Jesus did was to help others understand why this
outpouring was legitimate. Lavish love often can look a bit crazy,
even scandalous to those who don't know what caused it. By helping
others understand the actions of this woman, Jesus built a potential
bridge between her and those who didn't understand her actions. He
explained that extraordinary forgiveness created extraordinary
gratefulness. He tried to show how her reaction was overflowing love
– to the point of worship. Passionate worship! Extravagant and
generous and radical...and reaction of the establishment of the
church was judgment.
The
people in power abused that power. Judgment, guilt, shame,
punishment, rule-keeping, stay in line or you'll experience the wrath
of God. But the heart of God is about love and reconciliation! God
desires to be in relationship with his creation – he wants to walk
in the garden with us. We are the ones who distance ourselves from
him. And the power brokers squeeze into that gap whispering to our
fears “who are
you that you believe God wants you?” “You're a mess. Maybe once
you clean yourself up then God will want to see you – but at a
distance, if you get too close then he'll see your faults.” “who
would blame him for smiting you?” They
point out that they are better positioned to know what God thinks,
after all...they didn't get to be a high priest for nothing. Clearly
they have special gifts, private connections to the Most High God.
In the
scripture from 1 Kings 21 we saw how the elite treat the ones who
they consider to be beneath them. Ahab wanted a vegetable garden and
sought to buy a parcel that was conveniently nearby. Naboth didn't
want to sell – the land was of his ancestors. Ahab pouted like a
child and his very authoritative wife set about to satisfy her
husband's desire. Indirect murder, that's not exactly murder, right?
I can picture Jezebel saying (as Iago says in Othello), “what? How
am I a villain?” God is displeased with this abuse of power.
We
live in a time in which we bear witness to daily abuses of power. I
dare say, it has become so commonplace for some that they barely even
notice it. Or if they do notice it, many of those who have privilege
in our communities don’t call the perpetrators of abusive practices
to accountability; rather, they simply ride the coattails of the
wealthy to a position of even more privilege. Is this the heart of
Simon the Pharisee? Had power become such a part of the world that he
lived in that he no longer noticed that the actions of the
establishment were affecting the ability of those on the margin to
even survive?
The
painful question that we have to ask ourselves – is that where we
are now? Are we so comfortable with our privilege that we don't see
those on the margin? Let it not be said of us – let our story be of
a different heart.
The
third thing that Jesus did was to assure the woman that she is
forgiven. No matter what the judgmental attitude of the powerful said
– Jesus reassured her that faith has saved her...go in peace.
Part
of the ministry of elders in The United Methodist Church is to
“declare the forgiveness of sin.” This ministry is not limited to
elders, simply exemplified by them. It is part and parcel of the
ministry of all the baptized. If we are indeed offering our
ministries from the ground of compassion, we will forgive many, and
forgive much. When we do, at least some others will love much.
I want
to close with an excerpt from Father Greg Boyle's book “Tattoos on
the Heart.” It is a life-changing book that I recommend to
everyone. In 1993 Pastor G is teaching a course at Folsom Prison. The
inmates said they wanted him to teach them something, just not
scripture...he mentioned he had an MA in English. So they would sit
around the chapel, he and 15 lifers discussing short stories. One of
the stories was Flannery O'Connor's “A Good Man is Hard to Find.”
They begin discussing the Grandmother's transformation of character
(I quote him here):
“she
would have been a good woman...if it had been somebody there to shoot
her every minute of her life,” one of them remarked. My students
speak of this woman's change and seem to use these terms
interchangeably: sympathy, empathy and compassion. Like any teacher
stalling until the bell rings, I ask these felons to define their
terms.
“Well,
sympathy,” one begins, “is when your homie's mom dies and you go
up to him and say, “Spensa – sorry to hear 'bout your moms.”
Just
as quickly there is a volunteer to define empathy.
“Yeah,
well, empathy is when your homie's mom dies and you say, 'Spensa,
'bout your moms. My moms did six months ago. I feel ya, dog.”
“Excellent,”
I say, “Now, what's compassion?”
The
class squirms and stares at their state-issue boots. “C'mon now,”
I say, “Compassion – what's it mean?” The silence is quite
sustained, like visitors entering for the first time some sacred,
mysterious temple.
Finally,
an old-timer, down 25 years tentatively raises a finger. “Well,
now,” all eyes on him, shaking his head, “Compassion – that's
something altogether different.” He ponders what he'll say next.
“Cause that's what Jesus did. I mean, Compassion...IS...God.”
God is
compassionate, loving kindness. All we're asked to do is to be in the
world who God is. When we show compassion to those around us – not
to be rule-keepers, but because of the imprint that God has made on
our lives...we show God to the world. What do we do in response to
extravagant forgiveness? We show our deep gratitude. We may not be
able to shower his feet with tears, kisses and perfume – but we can
take that overflowing forgiveness and love and pour it on everyone we
encounter.
Overflowing
love, where will we put it all? Keep pouring it into the world –
and find the kinship of community. His kingdom come...let us pray,
Lord,
you welcomed me when others turned away. You allowed me to touch you,
with all my imperfections.
You defended me when others tried to dismiss me. You welcomed me, and I'm so thankful.
How could I respond to such love?
I offered you the best that I had. I broke open that expensive jar that I adored.
Then, I poured its fragrance all over your tired feet. I swept the dust of the world from your skin with my hair.
I poured and wiped; poured and wiped until the fragrance and my worship filled the air.
Today, as we think of God's love toward us, may the air fill with the sweet fragrance of worship.
We serve Christ as Lord.
We
serve Christ with all people,
for all people,
and to all people.
No one here does not belong.
No one not here will be excluded from our service, no matter what they've done.
Christ forgives.
We serve Christ as Lord.
Where we have denied you, O Christ,
or have not served and included all whom you love,
forgive us.
for all people,
and to all people.
No one here does not belong.
No one not here will be excluded from our service, no matter what they've done.
Christ forgives.
We serve Christ as Lord.
Where we have denied you, O Christ,
or have not served and included all whom you love,
forgive us.
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