The story we have presented to us today in the gospel of Luke is one of contrasts. The most obvious contrast is that of the Pharisee host and the woman who anoints Jesus feet. This story is reminiscent of that of Pharisee and the Publican where we see the Pharisee saying, "Reward me God for all the good I do" and the Publican who simply prays "Forgive me Lord for I am a sinner." Something of a caricature of life. After hearing our story today time and time again, and after hearing it in the context of church we know already how we're supposed to hear it. Just like a children's sermon where all the children answer "Jesus" because that's always the answer to the questions we know what this lesson is to mean Pharisee bad, woman good. But maybe by accepting it's meaning so readily we miss the whole point.
Pharisees are, on the whole, given a bad rap by the gospel writers. Most often we picture them as Snidely Whiplash characters, a gleam in their eye and twirling their mustaches but that is truly to misunderstand. The Pharisees were a faction of Judaism during Jesus time. They were perhaps 600 strong, not an overwhelming presence. They were not religious officials employed in any way by the establishment. Rather they were lay people who struggled to understand their faith. They posed the question to themselves, "How can I be good?" And they answered the question by trying to obey the law-to follow God's will. Now normally that's the kind of person you'd respect.
One commentator has suggested that Simon, the Pharisee in our lesson today, is exactly the kind of guy you'd like to have for a neighbor. You'd trust him because you'd know he's trying so hard to be good. He's a letter of the law guy. If he borrows your tools you can depend on the fact that he'll return them. And this Simon fellow, well he's friendly enough. He opens his house up to share his food and drink with friends. Indeed he sees himself as a liberal sort. An itinerant preacher comes to town and he invites him in because, of course, this Simon has an active intellect and wants to intellectually spar with someone who doesn't share his views. He sees himself as one who is open and receptive to other views.
Simon, he's probably the kind of guy we'd like to have over for dinner, certainly we'd thankfully welcome an invitation to his house--he always invites the most interesting people. In contrast, this woman, well she's just an embarrassment. No way around it the gospel writer portrays her as overly emotional, overly done, over the top. Are you familiar with that Mimi character on the Drew Carey show, the one with the excessive blue eye shadow, the big bow in her hair, the mismatched clothes, the hair out to here, the lipsticked mouth that's never quiet. She's how I picture this woman. Uninvited, unwelcome, she just walks right into this private home, this private party and makes a spectacle of herself. She takes down her hair. No respectable woman, I repeat, no respectable woman would take down her hair. And then she latches on to this guy Jesus like some frantic groupie. She's just way too emotional. This nameless woman is the kind of person who drinks too much at a wedding reception and then just gushes all over everybody about how much they love and care for everybody. For us cool, reserved, respectable folk this behavior is just too much.
Jesus, how can you put up with this? Let's have some decorum here. Are you too much of a hayseed to recognize what she is? Elbow to the ribs-what she is? That's one contrast. Probably the more important contrast however is between the two religious points of view, the Pharisee's and Jesus. Two religious people disagreeing about what God is like. Jesus tells a parable. One man owed a creditor a small sum. Another owed a great sum. The creditor forgave both. Think now, Simon, which would be the most grateful?
Then Jesus turns to Simon at table and says "Simon look at this woman. You showed me no hospitality. Look how she welcomes me, "Perhaps it's a matter of perception, Simon, look at this woman. What do you see? A sinner in need of exclusion? Or a sinner in need of forgiveness and reconciliation? Is she a code breaker who ought to be punished for her violation of the code? Or is she a person full of hunger who needs life giving nourishment? It all depends on how we look at it. Note the contrast in the way Simon sees the woman and the way Jesus sees her.
What kind of vision do we have? When we gather to celebrate the Lord's Supper, what does this meal mean? Whom do you see gathered at the table? Is this just a meal for the family, those of us gathered in the fold? Or is this a meal of invitation and inclusion, meant to be shared with the whole world? Is this a meal for the righteous elect? Or is this a meal for sinners being forgiven? For Jesus, forgiveness is not some kind of doctrine to be believed; rather it is a feast to be received, a party to which the outcasts are invited, a gift to be received with empty hands. So Jesus not only tells a parable at the table, he becomes a parable; a sign to us of what God is up to in the world. In Jesus God is busy inviting the whole world to the table.
A concluding question; how do we insiders like this story? Isn't the Jesus whom we receive too often the Jesus of the elect, the Jesus owned by the insiders. Here comes this Jesus who has this thing for the outsiders; who makes the table, not just a place of warm-hearted fellowship for the family but also a means of grace, a sign of invitation to others to come join the family. How well do we receive that Jesus?
Bob Greene had a column in the Tribune on Wednesday.
In the article he says he got a telephone call from a schoolteacher
this year saying she wanted to tell him about an incident that
had happened to a child on the playground. With all the incidents
of bullying and cruelty in the news lately, he suspected the worst--especially
when the teacher started the story by describing a boy who suffered
from severe physical disabilities, who was new to the school,
who had few friends and was painfully shy.
During the lunch break, the teacher said, most of the 8th graders
were gathered in groups, talking and laughing and playing around.
The one boy was off by himself, as usual. He was looking down
towards the ground, the way he often did. The teacher noticed
another boy--one of the most popular in the school, a great athlete,
good looking--leave a group of popular boys and girls and walk
over to the lone child.
This set off alarm bells in her. The solitary
boy was routinely ostracized at school--she didn't know what was
about to happen but it worried her. She made it her business to
ease over so that she could hear what was about to go on. A lot
of the boys on the playground were throwing footballs around.
The popular boy--the fine athlete-asked the lone child if he'd
like to play catch. The lone child seemed surprised. He said that
no one likes him to play with them; he said he was afraid he would
mess up and that the others would laugh at him. The popular boy
assured him that it would be all right. He said, "It's okay
to mess up once in a while we all do."The two boys began
to play catch. Some of the other students came over to join in
and play.
"It was the kindest thing I've witnessed in 28 years as a
teacher," the schoolteacher told the newspaperman.
The newspaperman wasn't certain why the teacher
was telling him this story. There was no headline in it, no front-page
material. And then she said: "The popular boy who walked
out of the group to play with the handicapped boy was your son."
The newspaperman had to fight back tears as he heard these words.
He tried to respond to the teacher, but the words would not come.
He knew that whatever good might happen to him in his career--awards,
job advancements, professional recognition--nothing would ever
top this. It was the proudest moment in his life."
A father's proudest moment--I can't help but wonder if God as father is proud of us?
Amen.