June 13, 2004

Third Pentecost

Luke 7:36-8:3; Galatians 2:15-21; 2 Samuel 11:26-12:10, 13-15

It was an unusual gathering of the most important. The most influential. The most powerful and yes, famous. But that does not mean that they were all friends. They had in fact often disagreed with each other. At times actually been considered adversaries. Some might even say enemies. Yet there they were all gathered in one place. They were the great and formerly great who gathered to give a closing tribute to the life and presidency of Ronald Reagan this week at the National Cathedral in Washington D.C. It was a most amazing picture of global and political contrasts. Former President George Herbert Bush embracing Senator John Kerry and parting with the words "We'll see ya, pal."   Two former Vice Presidents Quayle and Gore of opposing parties engaged in lively and animated conversation, and the former Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev was seated for the entire service next to former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. For some it was a political version of Edward Hick's painting "Peaceable Kingdom." You know the one with the images of the lion and the lamb lying down together. For a few brief moments the judgments and critiques that normally divide people and nations—the world, were set aside for a higher ideal of honoring a life well lived. It was as if even these great figures of the world recognized that they were in the presence of a power greater then any they might strive to wheel. A transcending power that could and would touch all who gathered sooner or later. For death is ultimately no stranger to any of us. And the wealth and power of nations.  

The best and worst of deeds ultimately do nothing to forestall the inevitable moment that ends a life. There are instances when we find ourselves having to admit that the categories through which we would order our lives fail us. As much as we might like to think that we can identify the good from the bad. The right from the wrong. The just from the unjust. The saints from the sinners. The world around us does not always comply. I am filled by wonder at the fact that the former leader of the Soviet Union stood but a few feet from the casket of the man who had once referred to Russia as "the evil empire." Leaders of nations who more than once brought our world to the brink of nuclear annihilation paused in respect at the funeral casket and they must have wondered. I hope they wondered at what they almost did in the name of what they had declared to be the ultimate good of their nation, people or culture. The word "miracle" comes dangerously close to crossing my lips. And I find myself wondering about words like reconciliation and forgiveness. Dare I hope that some day other political and powerful figures who today stand for all that is viewed as evil or bad by our political leaders could some day be embraced or at least invited to share a moment together in peace?

All the praise of a President now dead always carried with it the whisper of regret. A reminder that none of us is perfect, that even our best hopes and goals and ideals are flawed. No economic policy serves all the people. No law passed solves every question for all time. No military command or action brings a lasting and eternal peace. The human power that strives to define the right & wrong, good & evil, that would impose order by law or military might, is ultimately found wanting when placed in the eternal hands of God. This understanding of our place before God may be the greatest distinction between people of faith and those without such a vision or hope. As I reviewed the events of this past week I was reminded of the unique understanding and perspective that people of true faith have. We who have been claimed by God through our baptism, who have been gathered into the faith. We are called to be more than being arbiters of God's judgment and blessing on the good and evil or right and wrong of the world.

In our Gospel lesson for today Jesus is invited to meal at the home of Simon. a Pharisee. A Jewish teacher of the Old Testament law. A scholar in all probability of the nuisances of living a good life. Of following proper purity and dietary guidelines that were believed to make one more acceptable to God. And Jesus takes his place at the table, reclining as was the custom in this time before chairs were common.   Reclining so that his legs and feet extended behind him away from the table. Now another custom of this time 2,000 years ago was that the presence of a visiting dignitary or teacher like Jesus in the home meant that the door was left open that all who wished to hear the teacher might be free to gather at the door or even enter the house. So it was that through the open door entered a woman of questionable reputation. Simon clearly feels there is no problem discerning the suspect character of this woman. He is amazed that Jesus is so undiscerning. And we of course. knowing that Jesus is the good and holy son of God are equally quick to decide that Simon is clearly flawed, misguided. Maybe even a sinner equal to or greater than the woman who enters his home. There is something very appealing about being the arbiter of good and evil.

And we take special satisfaction when we feel that world events or history seem to prove that we are right in our judgments. We especially feel so justified when what we have declared to be evil passes under the judgment of history and time. We tend to operate under the assumption that God is good and God is eternal and thus ultimately only the good will survive and endure which also causes us to often assume that that which does not endure must be some how flawed and of lesser quality. The judgment that the Soviet Union was evil and communism bad is ultimately proven in many people's minds to be true when the old union collapses and the communist system fails. To be able to recognize the good from the evil. Simon was sure that a truly enlightened Rabbi like Jesus would have this discernment, but instead Jesus lets the woman anoint his feet. Could it be that God is not as discerning as we are? Jesus responds as he was so prone to do by telling a simple parable. Two debtors each owing significant sums of money, although one in ten times more trouble than the other. And a creditor who realizes that neither can pay so forgives them both. At which point Jesus simply asks, "Which debtor will love the creditor more?" Here is a question of discernment also that Simon the Pharisee handles easily. "Clearly the one forgiven the most," he replies. "Right" Jesus says and then turns to the woman and says "Do you see this woman? When I entered your house you gave me no water for my feet but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss of welcome, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment." "In short," Jesus said, "she has shown far more hospitality then you. She has shown far more goodness and love and her sins are forgiven."

Now the piece of this story that many modern audiences miss is the reaction that had to come from Simon but goes unreported in our text.   Simon was a Pharisee, a teacher of the law. And Simon knew that sins were not forgiven by love but only by repentance and right relationship with God, which is to say, doing what the law commanded. In our first lesson for today we witness the great tragedy of the laws judgment when King David orders a death only to find that his legal and irreversible royal declaration condemns his own child to die. Our second lesson is the writing of the great Pharisee and early Christian missionary Paul who declares the newly discerned truth that we are justified before God not by our works of fulfilling the law but by faith. Paul knew as David discovered that the law kills. The carefully analyzed categories of good and evil, right and wron, are but constructs we create to give the law a place in our lives. And while it often provides helpful direction and reveals more clearly our failings and sins we cannot escape the final judgment. We will sooner or later fail.  

The categories we create believing they will save us or make us right will ultimately destroy us. Pastor Chris, Larry Neumann and I spent Friday and Saturday at the Synod Assembly of our Metropolitan Chicago Synod. We participated in the many and various actions required for the furtherance of mission and ministry in our church and synod. Among the resolutions we dealt with were a number that expressed grave concern about the fate of the uninsured and underinsured who are provided medical care at hospitals in the Advocate Healthcare system (such as Lutheran General). A system that is owned by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and the United Church of Christ. One resolution called for a declaration of jubilee or forgiveness of debt rather than the filing of law suits to collect the funds owed. The question was explored in hearings that struggled with the many complexities of a seriously flawed national healthcare system especially for the poor and marginalized of our society. There are a lot of laws concerning debt and payment for services. On one level it was clear that forgiveness and love are not easily allowed as solutions to debt in our modern world. The power of the law to destroy lives was witnessed in story after story.  

Yet in the end, the assembly recognized the calling to do justice as a higher calling then fulfillment of laws, and the charity relief programs that last year totaled forgiveness of almost $220 million in uncompensated patient care debt were affirmed. Affirmed as our church's loving but insufficient response. But a response at least focused in what we believed to be the right direction. Jesus concludes his teaching with the words, "the one to whom little is forgiven loves little." That is why even while we are Christians who claim the heritage that Paul describes as people set free from the law by faith. We still need the law to remind us of the great need we have for God's grace and forgiveness. The law convicts us so that we may turn to God. We are good Christian people. We do the best we can for our families. our community. Yet we are not a community that is welcoming to all people. We will make our excuses and offer our explanations but there are few African-Americans or Latinos in our communities. We offer little if any affordable housing and almost no low income housing. We are an open and loving people but there is no homeless shelter near by, no welcoming space for the immigrant or refugee.  

You see how the law convicts. How the law challenges us. And there are some who would respond by creating new laws, new requirements that we fulfill in an attempt to make ourselves better, more right with ourselves, others and God. Simon failed as a host, so focused was he on the law. But he could not recognize the gift of grace Jesus offered him. At least not the way the woman who washed Jesus' feet did. There is more to our relationship to God then doing the right things or acting the right way.

Will Willimon tells a story of a woman who one day had a man walk right into her kitchen just before dinner time. He came in with the bread and milk she had needed and began to prepare a meal for her. Though she had never seen him in her life, he seemed to have a good heart. He was a wonderful conversationalist and they had a wonderful meal together. He took out the garbage and put gas in her car. He did some yard work and started fixing some of those little things that needed fixing around the house. She allowed him to stay the night when he fell asleep watching the baseball game from the west coast. He continued to be there. He paid the electric bill and helped her paint the one bedroom and he went to church with her. She was a bit shocked when he began telling people that they were married, that he was her husband. When she protested, he said, "But I do all the things that husbands do. I mean well. I certainly think of you as my wife." "You are not my husband unless I've chosen to marry you," she replied. "You and I are not married! We haven't made promises to one another, haven't had a wedding. You are not my husband!" He seemed hurt. He thought her unfair. After all shouldn't acting like a husband qualify you as a husband?

Shouldn't our acting like children of God make us children of God? Isn't it enough to just be and do good? It is so easy, as St. Paul knew, to start building up the very things we once tore down. Whenever I find myself assuring myself that I am a good Christian. That I know I am because I do good things. Then I know I am back to those familiar Pharisaic ways, fulfilling the law as I have come to define it. Ignoring God's grace again until I feel guilty enough to need it. And need it I will as will so many others. Many who are able to pretend like me that God's forgiveness is not critical to my good life. It reminds me of the southern preacher more prone to using the law then we Lutheran clergy. One Sunday as the offering was about to be received the preacher stepped up and stressed the need to offer our lives as well as our money to God, live right and proper. And the preacher said that he was distressed by a certain member of the congregation flirting with a member of the choir and he wanted it to stop or he would be having a conversation with that parishioner's spouse. And as proof of the resolve of that member of the congregation's decision to mend their ways the preacher said he expected to find a $20 bill in the offering plate. The offering was received and the preacher discovered seven $20 bills in the offering plate.

The law convicts. Jesus forgives. We all have so many things that God knows we could do better, do more justly, do more lovingly. And Jesus forgives. The woman at Jesus' feet knew that there was nothing she could do for herself. She could only open herself in loving deed to the power of God to enter her life, to forgive her sins and to invite her into the community of faith that we are told followed Jesus. Men and women who found in the forgiveness of their sins a new relationship to those around them. That is what happens when we pause to share together our humanity, our need for God's grace and that grace alone to sustain us. Then the evil empires fade away. The divisions of our making are swallowed up by Christ's loving promise.  "Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you, go in peace."

Amen.