Pastor Tom Johnson, June 16, 2013
Jesus is a dinner guest at a Pharisee’s home, named Simon.
And right after sitting down for their meal, an uninvited woman pops in—a
notoriously sinful woman—a woman of ill-repute. She lavishly pours a very expensive alabaster jar of
ointment to anoint Jesus. She not only bathes him with the ointment but also
her tears. Her tears must have been gushing out of her eyes, streaming down her
cheeks, and dripping off her chin. Her hair is also drenched with her tears by trying to dry
Jesus feet. I think we all can imagine that hair is not as absorbent. Her
actions are more impulsive and unplanned than they are rational. Let’s be honest. It’s bizarre. It’s sensual. It is an
over-the-top display of human affection. It probably would make us blush or
feel a sense of revulsion. But Jesus is not ashamed. He is not repulsed. He
accepts her loving adoration. He takes it all in.
Simon, the religious leader, is disgusted by the whole display. And, he says 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.” “Does Jesus not see this woman for who she truly is?” Simon asks. Our Scripture says he said it to himself. I suppose he said it loud enough for everyone to hear—or at least for Jesus to hear. Or Jesus heard because he not only knows who and what kind of woman she is, he knows the thoughts and intentions of every human heart.
Jesus won’t let this terribly judgmental comment slip by. He
needs to address it. But how? By telling a story. “Simon,” Jesus says, “I have
a story to tell: A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred
denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debts
for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” It is a short story that ends with a question. The absurdity
of the story is easy to miss. A banker has two loans out. One person owes 500
denarii, the other 50. A denarius is a day’s wage—about $100 a day. That means one person owes $50,000, other $5,000. One person
owes the remainder of a mortgage on a home, the other the price for a used car.
Both of them, in a most un-precedented and outlandish turn of events, are told
they don’t need to pay off their loan. Where can I get a loan like that? Don’t think that creditors
were more likely to forgive debt in the 1st century than they are in the 21st
century. Both have a lot to be thankful for and good cause to love this lender.
But which of them will be especially thankful? That’s easy, isn’t it? The one who will take years and maybe
decades to pay off his loan and all the interest over the years. “The one for
whom he canceled the greater debt,” Simon says. And Jesus says, “You’re right!
You have judged rightly.” And then Jesus turns the tables on the religious
teacher.
“Do you see this woman, Simon?” “You wondered to yourself if I saw this woman for who and what she is. But who is the one who does not see? Do you see this woman? Do you see yourself? You didn’t show me any hospitality. There was no welcome mat to dust off my feet. You did not receive me with a warm handshake. You didn’t even let me know where the washroom was. But this woman you call a sinner has lavishly treated me with dignity, respect, and love. Do you see this woman? She is a trophy of God’s grace. She is responder to divine love. Do you see this woman? She is thankful. She has tears of joy. Every tear drop is a flood from God’s ocean of love and mercy. Her worship is lavish because she is lavishly loved. Her debt was ridiculously large. Her forgiveness is ridiculously greater. And so her display of thankfulness and love is just as ridiculous.”
Simon, the religious leader, is disgusted by the whole display. And, he says 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.” “Does Jesus not see this woman for who she truly is?” Simon asks. Our Scripture says he said it to himself. I suppose he said it loud enough for everyone to hear—or at least for Jesus to hear. Or Jesus heard because he not only knows who and what kind of woman she is, he knows the thoughts and intentions of every human heart.
Jesus won’t let this terribly judgmental comment slip by. He
needs to address it. But how? By telling a story. “Simon,” Jesus says, “I have
a story to tell: A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred
denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debts
for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” It is a short story that ends with a question. The absurdity
of the story is easy to miss. A banker has two loans out. One person owes 500
denarii, the other 50. A denarius is a day’s wage—about $100 a day. That means one person owes $50,000, other $5,000. One person
owes the remainder of a mortgage on a home, the other the price for a used car.
Both of them, in a most un-precedented and outlandish turn of events, are told
they don’t need to pay off their loan. Where can I get a loan like that? Don’t think that creditors
were more likely to forgive debt in the 1st century than they are in the 21st
century. Both have a lot to be thankful for and good cause to love this lender.
But which of them will be especially thankful? That’s easy, isn’t it? The one who will take years and maybe
decades to pay off his loan and all the interest over the years. “The one for
whom he canceled the greater debt,” Simon says. And Jesus says, “You’re right!
You have judged rightly.” And then Jesus turns the tables on the religious
teacher.“Do you see this woman, Simon?” “You wondered to yourself if I saw this woman for who and what she is. But who is the one who does not see? Do you see this woman? Do you see yourself? You didn’t show me any hospitality. There was no welcome mat to dust off my feet. You did not receive me with a warm handshake. You didn’t even let me know where the washroom was. But this woman you call a sinner has lavishly treated me with dignity, respect, and love. Do you see this woman? She is a trophy of God’s grace. She is responder to divine love. Do you see this woman? She is thankful. She has tears of joy. Every tear drop is a flood from God’s ocean of love and mercy. Her worship is lavish because she is lavishly loved. Her debt was ridiculously large. Her forgiveness is ridiculously greater. And so her display of thankfulness and love is just as ridiculous.”
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran pastor who opposed the Nazis in Germany and was later executed for his plot against Hitler, visited Paris as a young theological student. He went to Catholic Mass and was deeply moved to see prostitutes showing great devotion and love in their worship. He said “one can see quite clearly how close, precisely through their fate and guilt, these people are to the heart of the Gospel...It's much easier for me to imagine a praying murderer, a praying prostitute, than a vain person praying. Nothing is so at odds with prayer as vanity.” That is the real tragedy of Simon. His vanity—his pride keeps him from seeing his own sin and brokenness. His pride and self-righteousness prevent him from experiencing the ridiculous—yet beautiful and glorious—grace of God.
To be on the outside of this work of God is to think others fail and are unworthy of God’s attention and love. To be on the inside of this work is to see this woman as she truly is—a woman who is accepted and loved by God and who loves him back. It is to see that we are all in this human experience together. We all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. But even better, we experience forgiveness so that we become thankful and maybe even tearful, lavish worshipers. Do you see this woman? Do you see Simon’s struggle? Do you see Jesus? They are all beautiful.
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