She Gets It! Do You? – sermon on June 12, 2016
Luke 7:36 – 8:3 One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to have dinner with him, so Jesus went to his home and sat down to eat. When a certain immoral woman from that city heard he was eating there, she brought a beautiful alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume. Then she knelt behind him at his feet, weeping. Her tears fell on his feet, and she wiped them off with her hair. Then she kept kissing his feet and putting perfume on them.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know what kind of woman is touching him. She’s a sinner!”
Then Jesus answered his thoughts. “Simon,” he said to the Pharisee, “I have something to say to you.” “Go ahead, Teacher,” Simon replied. Then Jesus told him this story: “A man loaned money to two people—500 pieces of silver to one and 50 pieces to the other. But neither of them could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do you suppose loved him more after that?” Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt.” “That’s right,” Jesus said.
Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Look at this woman kneeling here. When I entered your home, you didn’t offer me water to wash the dust from my feet, but she has washed them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You didn’t greet me with a kiss, but from the time I first came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You neglected the courtesy of olive oil to anoint my head, but she has anointed my feet with rare perfume. I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.” Then Jesus said to the woman, “Your sins are forgiven.”
The men at the table said among themselves, “Who is this man, that he goes around forgiving sins?” And Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Sermon: She Gets It! Do You? By Rev. Doreen Oughton
So Simon the Pharisee is having a dinner party, and he invites Jesus. Just that fact raises so many questions, doesn’t it? Who were the other invited guests? Did Jesus and Simon know each other? Was he hoping Jesus was a prophet and was checking him out? Did he feel threatened by Jesus and was checking him out? And then as the story moves on, we learn that Simon did not welcome Jesus in the customary ways, with a kiss, with an anointing of oil on the head, perhaps a foot bath. And I wonder, was Simon poorly mannered in general, or was it just Jesus who did not receive the honor a guest is due? And if he is less than gracious to his invited guests, we can imagine his distaste for any uninvited guest, let alone a woman fawning over Jesus, and an immoral woman at that!
But we don’t have to imagine all of it, for scripture tells us the unspoken thoughts Simon has about this woman, and about Jesus’ acceptance of her. This rules him out as a prophet, whether that brings Simon disappointment or relief. For if he was a prophet, Simon thinks, surely he would not allow this woman get near him, let alone touch him.
Luke tells us that Jesus answered Simon’s thoughts, but I’ll bet Simon doesn’t realize that just yet. Jesus forms a story about two debtors, and a kind, forgiving creditor. Perhaps it seems to Simon to come out of the blue. You can imagine his thoughts chattering away – “What’s he going on about debtors and creditors for when this nasty woman is making this scene right at his feet?! Why doesn’t he deal with her, tell her to get off him and go?!” He answers the question Jesus poses, probably without much thought – “Fine. I’ll play along… the one who owed more.”
And finally Jesus turns toward this woman, and asks him, “Do you see this woman?” Are you kidding, Jesus? Of course Simon sees the woman – he has been loathing this sinner touching Jesus ever since she showed up. Of course Simon sees the woman – she’s an embarrassment to the sanctity of the table. Simon isn’t blind, he’s spiteful, judgmental. And Jesus barely takes a breath before sharing how he sees this woman – as someone lavish in her expression of love, of someone whose debt has been forgiven. As someone whose faith in the good news has made her whole.
Jesus has proved himself a prophet after all, showing that indeed he does know what kind of woman is touching him, and he knows what kind of man is hosting him. Jesus equates the woman with the person in the story who was forgiven much and so loves much, and adds that the person who is forgiven little loves little. But from what he says, Simon showed no love at all, so maybe he doesn’t even see that he has any debt. Jesus sees them both, sees that Simon can’t see past her reputation, her notoriety; can’t see her clarity about who Jesus is. There is no debating in her mind as to whether he is a prophet or not. Simon sees, and doesn’t see. Now Jesus doesn’t condemn Simon for his blindness. Doesn’t tell a parable about the blind being cast into outer darkness and gnashing of teeth. But Jesus is inviting Simon to see more clearly. I wonder what impact this had on Simon. Was he able to see more clearly? Did this make him want to be more loving toward Jesus?
We had an interesting discussion in bible study this week, about whether those who have sinned big are closer to the kindom than those who have sinned little, or not at all. Is that the only way to love Jesus so lavishly, to accrue a big debt so that it can be forgiven. As we heard from Paul in the responsive reading, “Absolutely not!” Christ does not lead us to sin, but rather to the dismantling of a system of condemnation.
You know I’m not even convinced that it is true that great love comes only with great forgiveness. I think Jesus was trying to make a point to Simon. I mean, I don’t think that you have to have been really bad in order to love Jesus lavishly, and if I don’t think so, certainly Jesus thinks like me… right? No. I can’t speak for Jesus. But I can’t help but think of the parable of the prodigal son. The righteous older brother who wondered if his father loved than trouble-making brother more. The father says that everything was always his. The father stood on the porch with him, pleading with him to open his heart, to come to the party. That story lets us know that the choice is ours. The father didn’t want his older son to go out and do some sinning so that he could come enjoy the party, so that he could let himself be in awe, overwhelmed with gratitude. That young man could open his eyes and heart and see all that was always there an available to him. And anyone could be moved by that to lavish love, no?
But that younger son, through his journey back home, and this woman busting into Simon’s dinner party have figured out a few things that Simon and big brother haven’t. It can come through big sin and forgiveness, but it doesn’t have to. What they understand is what Paul preaches – it’s not about obeying laws, it’s about relationship. It’s not about checking off the boxes, comparing yourself to others, judging others, living safely. It’s about living for God. And that offers an amazing freedom – exhilarating, daring freedom. It is a freedom that says, I may not deserve it but I’m sure gonna take it – this second chance, third chance, 7 times 70th chance. I will take this chance to love Jesus with everything I’ve got. It’s a freedom that says no one can take my joy from me, no one can keep me from Jesus – no matter what gender I am, no matter how old or young I am, no matter who I love, no matter my past. That freedom is offered to us all. Because remember that nothing in this story is about how much God loves us; not about how lavishly God pours love on us. God, of course, gets it. God made it so – that it is all about relationship, all about love and mercy. I don’t know if Simon got it, or the older brother. I am not really sure if I get it in a way that knocks me to my knees for love of Jesus. I find it exciting and scary, this wild freedom in Christ, this freedom to love so lavishly. I don’t know about you, but I am surely Standing in the Need of Prayer. Let us sing it with conviction.
