This morning's gospel reading is a dramatic
story that invites its hearers and readers to participate.[1] We
can imagine ourselves in the audience watching a play or as one of the dinner
guests. However, most hearers identify, consciously or unconsciously, with
either the Pharisee, who occupies a position near the apex of social
acceptability, or the prostitute, who was among the least socially acceptable.
Three elements of the plot deserve our attention.
First, Jesus welcomed both the Pharisee and
the prostitute. Pharisees were Jews who strictly interpreted the Torah's 613
commandments. Moreover, the Pharisees "fenced" those commandments,
that is, they imposed additional restrictions on their behavior to avoid
unintentionally failing to observe part of the law. These additional
restrictions eventually became the oral Torah, the Halacha. Illustratively, the Torah instructed Jews not to work on the Sabbath. The
Halacha enumerated the actions that were and were not allowed on the Sabbath.
Simon, a Pharisee, vigorously practiced his
faith, was hospitable, and sufficiently interested in spiritual growth to invite
Jesus to dinner. Yet Simon was not perfect. He fell short in his duties
as a host. He didn’t have a servant wash Jesus’ feet, which was an ordinary
gesture of welcome in a hot and dirty climate where all wore sandals. He did
not kiss Jesus, a gesture comparable to the Hawaiian practice of embracing
acquaintances and guests. Simon was apparently curious, wanting to know more about
Jesus, but didn’t want anyone to think that he was too close to Jesus. Probably
for similar reasons, Simon did not anoint Jesus with a few drops of oil because
that act signified honor and respect. In short, Simon saw himself as a decent,
respectable, and devout person. My guess is many of us see ourselves in a
similar way: pretty good, decent Christians, but not ready to commit to radical
obedience nor desirous of being branded a Jesus fanatic.
The woman is a prostitute.
Fully aware of her sins, her moral condemnation by the Torah, and her public
ostracism, she fully appreciated the enormity of Jesus' welcome. She, an unclean
woman, gratefully washed his feet with her tears, dried them with her hair, and
then anointed his feet with expensive perfume.
Second, Jesus not only welcomed both the
Pharisee and the prostitute, he also loved them. The prostitute experienced
Jesus' love as acceptance. Instead of recoiling at her approach, he affirmed
her intimate gestures of washing his feet with her copious tears and then
drying them with her long hair. Jesus' actions in this incident remind me of
the father embracing the prodigal in one of Jesus' parables, a healing embrace
between two lovers, and all of the times when a person experiences God's love
through a touch, gift of bread, drink of water, and so forth. The peace is important
liturgically not only to enable friends and family to greet one another but also
to follow Jesus' practice of loving the unlovable. As Paul Tillich put it so
eloquently, "Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness …
it is as though a voice were saying, 'You are accepted.'"[2]
Jesus communicated his love to the Pharisee
in a different way. Simon did not need food, shelter, or a healing embrace. Simon
required instruction in God's unlimited love. So Jesus asked him, who would
love a former creditor the most, a debtor forgiven 500 denarii or a debtor
forgiven 50 denarii. The denarius was the usual wage for a day labor, so these
were large sums in a subsistence economy. When Simon replied that the one
forgiven 500 denarii would love the most, Jesus noted the parallel between hypothetical
debtors and Simon and the prostitute.
Then the story abruptly ends. The plot has
no final resolution. Did Simon recognize his own shortcomings and need for
forgiveness? Did the woman successfully adopt a new lifestyle or did she, out
of desperation and lack of alternatives, resume her occupation in the sex
industry?
Jesus welcomes, loves, and then extends an
invitation to follow him. Each person must decide whether to accept that
invitation. Walking the Jesus path requires a long obedience in the same
direction, repeatedly saying yes to God's love in Jesus.
Ben Hooper was born in the Tennessee foothills
of the Appalachian Mountains early in the twentieth century. Children like Ben,
born to an unwed mother, were ostracized and treated terribly. By his third
birthday, other children would barely play with Ben. Parents did want their
children associated with children like Ben.
The schools did not have kindergarten. When
Ben entered the first grade at age six, he stayed at his desk during recess
because the other children would not play with him and ate his snack alone
because nobody would eat with him.
A new preacher came to town when Ben was
twelve. People liked the preacher and groups visibly brightened when he joined
them.
One Sunday, Ben decided to go to church,
something that he had never done. He arrived late and left early, to avoid
contact with the other parishioners. On the seventh or eighth Sunday that Ben
attended the worship service, he became enthralled with the sermon and forgot
about the time. Suddenly, the service ended. The aisles filled with people.
Then Ben felt a hand on his shoulder. He
turned and looked up, directly into the preacher's eyes. "Whose boy are
you?" asked the preacher. Instantly, the church became silent. "Slowly,
a smile started to spread across the face of the young preacher until it broke
into a huge grin, and he exclaimed, 'Oh! I know whose boy you are! Why, the
family resemblance is unmistakable! You are a child of God!'"[3]
Jesus welcomes you. Jesus loves you,
offering acceptance, assurance, forgiveness, and instruction. And Jesus invites
you to walk with him, but the choice is yours. Are you walking with Jesus?
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