Sermon preached by Lee Barstow  on the second Sunday in Pentecost, June 13, 2004
South Congregational Church

Amherst, Massachusetts

^{Lectionary Text
 Luke 7:36-8:3}

³⁶ One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. ³⁷ And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. ³⁸ She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. ³⁹ Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” ⁴⁰ Jesus spoke up and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he replied, “speak.” ⁴¹ “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. ⁴² When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” ⁴³ Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” And Jesus said to him, “You have judged rightly.” ⁴⁴ Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? 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. ⁴⁵ You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. ⁴⁶ You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. ⁴⁷ Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” ⁴⁸ Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” ⁴⁹ But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” ⁵⁰ And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

            I started off extemporaneously, and explained that I felt compelled to speak to the last three verses of the reading (Luke 8:1-3), because they were not included in my prepared sermon, but were important to talk about, at least briefly.

            I said that in them, Luke gives great importance to the role of women in the gospel. These verses mark the beginning of Jesus' Galilean ministry, and by accentuating the presence of women, Luke is giving them a special place.

            I explained that Christian and Jewish tradition often recognizes the feminine as essential. For examples, I mentioned Sophea, the female representation of the Wisdom of God, and Jesus' use of feminine imagery such as "the womb of God." I said that feminist theology and eco-feminist theology are, along with liberation theology, the most dynamic movements in Christian theology today.

            I was last up here on March 28, and I want to say that I am very, very grateful to Fran and the deacons for inviting me about every three months or so to cut my teeth.  As many of you know, I am in the very early stages of a path to ordained ministry, and preaching is an integral activity of my journey.

But I am most grateful for preaching because I get to take some time away from the pressures of American life today to simply steep myself in the Gospel. It is one of the ways I have been given to make conscious contact with the God of my understanding. What a gift. You know what it's like -- like when the glory of a particularly vast sunset grabs you , or the early morning sun glances just so off the dewdrops on the grass, and rainbows follow you as you walk. Or a loved one does something that returns you to that place where, perhaps just for a moment, nothing else exists except the feeling of being loved, and of loving. It is the feeling of being treasured just for being you.

This idea leads to our gospel story today. It's a story that surprised me when I began my preparations a couple of weeks ago, as usual, by reading the scripture passages listed in the daily lectionary. I was surprised because I discovered that it is in fact the same story as the one I was given in March! That one was from John, and today's from Luke.

At first I was disappointed. I mean really, there's a lot of other stuff to preach about in these scriptures, and I don't have has much time as some seminarians…  If I'm going to make it, I'm gonna have to make tracks.

But as I ventured further in reading the passage, I began to enter the depths of truth and beauty told in this story, and I remembered. It's not about the destination, it's about the journey. Growing our faith is about the experience of encountering the divine, and just like a hologram, any story which reveals a piece of the truth shows us the whole, albeit from a different angle.

And I also discovered that the story is actually told quite differently by the two gospel writers. In John, it took place closer to the end of Jesus' Galilean ministry, while today's story takes place at the beginning of it. In John, the dinner was in the house of Lazarus and Mary, Jesus' dear friends, and Mary was the woman doing the anointing. Luke's dinner host is Simon the Pharisee, who has no doubt invited Jesus to unmask him as a fraud.

But the power of the central event is the same. A woman is overcome by the experience of God's love, which she has experienced through Jesus. Today's reading says, "She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment." Can you imagine a more evocative, a more provocative image of gratitude and devotion? Can you imagine a stronger expression of radical love?

This woman has found the love that is the creative force of the universe. She has found the very thing all humans have sought since the beginning of time. We seek it in every way imaginable – some which help more than others. We tell stories to help each other find it, we make music together, we make art, we pray. And in our desperation, sometimes we slip into darkness and we hurt others because we think we have the answers. Beware of thinking we have the answers. All we will ever have are the questions and the experience of seeing a little more the beauty of the mystery that created the stars and from them, our world and ourselves.

In our tradition, we call this supreme intelligence God, the Holy Spirit, who loves us so much that he takes on the worst of our suffering in order to help us find Him. In other traditions, there are other methods and other names, but the journey is the same seeking the knowledge of that power which is greater than us, which is the source of our very existence, which sets in motion our very breathing, which constantly lures us into relationship with himself—or herself—or itself—and which is always available for forgiveness.

This is where today's passage from Luke extends the story in John. In his gospel, Luke weaves into the story of finding God's love the whole subject of forgiveness, and how forgiveness plays a role in our ability to love.

I'd like to tell you a story I was given last week by a man many of you know, Phil Hall. It's about a mother with a small child about the age of four or so, I would guess. The mom is a good Mom, but as is true for any mother who spends her days taking care of little children, she is also very grateful when she has a chance to get away for a few hours. And on this day in the story, she has been asked out for a dinner date by her husband. She is excited and perhaps little cranky with her son that day, as she anticipates the evening. Early in the day, she spreads the dress she will wear on her bed.

At some point, the little boy does something he knows he shouldn't, and his Mom scolds him. And because she's stressed out, she scolds him harder than she normally would. She sends him to his room. A little while later, she realizes she hasn't heard him for a while, and she goes upstairs to check on him. She doesn't find him in his room, and she sees the door to her bedroom ajar. She goes in, and finds him on her bed with a pair of scissors, cutting her dress to pieces.

Now she loses it. She yells at him, "How could you do such a thing," and she collapses on the bed, sobbing. After a little while, she looks up at him, his face stricken with remorse, and realizing he is aware of what he has done, she reaches out to him. He climbs into her lap, and he says, "Please, Mommy, take me back. Take me back."

Isn't this what our story today is all about? Hasn't the sinful woman been taken back by her parent, and is expressing how she has been shaken by the experience of utter grief, and then of total joy? Haven't we all experience something like this at some point in our lives?

Okay, now I'd like to try an experiment. Let's try to put ourselves in her place, and see if we can catch a glimpse of what she was feeling. If you would, close your eyes for just a moment. I promise I won't ask you to do anything embarrassing, and this won't take long. Just close your eyes and relax, and focus on your breathing.

Now let your memory give you a time when you were forgiven for something you did wrong. Maybe it is in childhood, and a parent or teacher let you know you they still love you anyway. Maybe it is later in life, when you realize that you have been hurting a loved one selfishly, and suddenly you know you want to change, and you know you will be helped to change. Just focus on your breathing and allow a memory to surface.

Okay, you can open your eyes now, even if a memory didn't come. It may come later, or it may not, but I'd be willing to bet there's one in there somewhere. And I'd be willing to bet that whenever you remember the experience, or when you have the experience in the future, you too will be filled with the same gratitude as the woman in our story. It feels like we have been given back our true life, the one that we know in the center of our being – the one where everything is all right, and we are loved.

And now we turn to Simon. Poor Simon. He spends his days trying to earn God's love. He performs over a hundred acts a day to keep himself clean. He maintains strict separation from sinners and other unclean persons. Because of his dedication and his purity, he knows he is favored by God.

But then along comes Jesus, an upstart would-be prophet, who upends Simon's entire, intricate belief system. He shows Simon what real love looks like.

Some Bible commentaries say Jesus demonstrates his powers when he correctly "reads Simon's mind" about the woman being a sinner. But I think maybe it wasn't too hard – you can usually tell when someone is judging someone else – I imagine Simon was showing his contempt.

As usual when Jesus is trying to help people with a higher vision of the Kingdom of God, he gives Simon a parable. A rhetorical question, really: there is only one answer. The debtor who owes the most is the one who's most grateful when the debt is forgiven. The woman, who has understood that she has many sins, leaves no question about the depth of her gratitude. She has faced the reality of her brokenness and has seen the promise of redemption in God's love. She has experienced forgiveness.

Simon, on the other hand, is stuck in his pride. He can't love because he thinks he deserves love. In his worldview, his ritualistic conduct makes him worthy of God's love. But that's not how it works. We can't earn love. It's a gift from God, offered freely to all.

This point is a big part of Jesus' ministry. Over and over again, he tells us it is not achievements, or law-abiding, or social position that gains us God's love. Before you remark on the speck in your neighbor's eye, remove the plank in your own. The rain falls on just and the unjust. Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone.

We make mistakes because we are human. Sometimes it feels like a curse, doesn't it? Have you ever wondered how many times you will have to repeat the same mistakes before you grow past them? The worst ones are when I catch myself hurting someone I love in the same way again.

But I think Jesus is telling us it is a blessing to see our shortcomings. What else would make us look past ourselves for help? It is only when we know that we don't know everything that we teachable. And likewise, it is only if we can admit our shortcomings that we are able to grow. In the Lord's prayer itself, we are taught to ask forgiveness of our debts. It doesn't read, "Forgive us if we have debts," it reads, "Forgive us our debts."

So this is the first step – to admit that we have a problem, and that we don't know how to solve it. To admit that we are not enough by ourselves.

The second step is to know that there is a power greater than ourselves who can help. Sometimes this power appears in our prayers. Sometimes he appears through other people. Sometimes he appears as a she, or in the sunset, or the stars.

I like the saying that it doesn't really matter what you think God is, as long as you know it's not you.

Once we trust that help will come from some source we don't yet see, the third step is to be willing to cooperate. Just a little willingness is all it takes. All we need is to be willing to see things in a new way, to be willing to abandon our certainty for a moment and listen for a higher voice.

To let go and let God.

And so as we leave here today, let us look to God to help us see our shortcomings. We will not ask, "What have I done wrong," but, "Show me my humanness so that in admitting it, I can open myself to your divine help, and forgiveness, and love."

Amen.