Luke 7:36-8:3 Revised Standard Version (RSV)
A Sinful Woman Forgiven
36 One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house, and took his place at table. 37 And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, 38 and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed 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 sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.” 40 And Jesus answering said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he answered, “What is it, Teacher?” 41 “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he forgave them both. Now which of them will love him more?” 43 Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, to whom he forgave more.” And he 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 wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss 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 are many, are forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, loves little.” 48 And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” 49 Then those who were at 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.”
Some Women Accompany Jesus
8 Soon afterward he went on through cities and villages, preaching and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. And the twelve were with him, 2 and also some women who had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Mag′dalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, 3 and Jo-an′na, the wife of Chu′za, Herod’s steward, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them[a] out of their means.
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.
We all know them. They’re everywhere. They’re our bosses, our friends, our family members, perhaps even our spouses. They surround us.
I’m talking about those people who love to criticize, to judge, to point out our faults and flaws, and those of others.
Often these critics have no skills or discernible talents of their own – much like film critics who love to pan the efforts of directors and actors, but who couldn’t turn in even a remotely adequate performance themselves.
The great Teddy Roosevelt had this to say about such people:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”[1]
Such people were also known in Jesus’ day. They were called “Pharisees.”
Simon, the host of the dinner party in today’s lesson, was just such a man. Many people, myself included, have gotten the impression that this Simon was maybe one of the “good guys” among the Pharisees – and there were some – because he invited Jesus into his home.
Maybe. But this possibility becomes less likely when you look a little closer. Our old friend, William Barclay, reviews the customs that were the norm in that day and age when a guest – particularly an important one like Jesus – entered the host’s home. First, the host placed his hand on the guest’s shoulder and gave him the kiss of peace. Then cool water was poured over the feet of the guest to wash off some of the dust of the road, and to soothe them. Then either a pinch of sweet-smelling incense was burned or a drop of attar of roses was placed on the guest’s head.
But the text tells us that none of these things was done for Jesus. So, far from being welcomed, Jesus was in fact insulted by this Simon.
And this was a public insult. As Barclay tells us, “It was the custom that when a Rabbi was at a meal in such a house, all kinds of people came in – they were quite free to do so – to listen to the pearls of wisdom which fell from his lips.”[2] So when Simon refuses to show Jesus the usual common courtesy of the day, it was a public affront. From this, I can only conclude that Simon was by no means a friend of Jesus.
Why, then, did he invite Jesus over for dinner? My guess was that Simon had colluded with other Pharisees to get Jesus by himself so Simon might entice him to say something he shouldn’t, something that they could use against him. The Pharisees were, after all, legalists, and so the use of lawyerly tricks was nothing new to them. They were getting to the point of desperation, these Pharisees – all their attempts to get Jesus to make a wrong move, or say the wrong thing and perjure himself, had gotten them exactly nowhere. If anything, his popularity and influence among the masses had gotten bigger. Crowds followed him everywhere. You couldn’t so much as step outside your house without hearing someone go on about what that young man from Nazareth had just done or said. Simon and his ilk believed that this Jesus was like an acid that was rapidly eroding their influence and power. If this kept up, their ride on the gravy train was going to come to an abrupt end. So oily old Simon invites Jesus to his house; and despite the obvious contempt of Simon’s attitude, Jesus accepts.
The trap is set!
But then God plays the wild card. Some woman – we never learn her name, or even what exactly she had done to be labeled a “sinner” – enters the house, and walks right up to Jesus, kneels down, and begins washing his feet with her sobs, then dries them with her own hair, and finally anoints them with fragrant oil from that little alabaster jar – and you can bet that that oil had not come cheap! And this woman, this sinful woman, does the things Simon should have done, and shows him up under his own roof! She completely turns the tables on him – now he, Simon, is the one who’s embarrassed.
He thinks to himself, though, that this Jesus can’t really be the guy he’s cracked up to be, because he apparently doesn’t even recognize just what kind of person that is who’s washing his feet. But Jesus does know, and maybe he reads the smug look on Simon’s face and guesses what he’s thinking. Then he lowers the boom:
“Simon, I have something to say to you.”
“What is it, Teacher?”
“A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred bucks, and the other fifty. Neither one of them could pay up when the time came. But instead of throwing them into debtor’s prison, he forgave them both. Now which of them will love him more?”
Simon answers, “The one, I suppose, to whom he forgave more.”
Jesus says, “You have judged rightly.”
Then turning toward the woman he says to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house, you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, loves little.” And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
Ouch. First, Simon’s shown up in his own house; and now he’s been schooled by this upstart Rabbi he holds in such contempt. Not a great day for the home team.
I’d like to think that Simon learned a valuable lesson that day; but I wouldn’t place any bets. Simon, the other Pharisees, and all those who “had it made” weren’t even conscious of any need they might have; they were on top of the heap, they pulled the strings. They didn’t feel any compunction to care at all about those under them, much less show these people love and compassion. Their conceit was that they were good people in the eyes of others and certainly in the eyes of God, because they followed the rules. So Simon figured that he had the right to point his bony index finger at others and judge and condemn and find fault with them.
But you know what they say: “When you point your finger at someone, there are three fingers pointing back at you.” Pointing your finger at others – even if it’s justified – only goes so far, and is not even worth the effort if there’s not a genuine concern for those others behind it.
As far as Simon was concerned, that woman anointing Jesus’ feet was a sinner, and would remain a sinner, hopeless, despised, and condemned for her entire life. No matter how many tears she might shed, no matter how much money she might spend on expensive oil, her fate was sealed.
We like to think that Simon and those like him have all gone the way of the dinosaur and dodo bird; but all we have to do is read the paper, listen to the news, or even listen to the conversations of people around us to know that the Pharisees are still among us, alive and – unfortunately – quite hale and hearty. And – if we’re honest – we sometimes hear those voices coming up from somewhere deep inside us, too.
But there is an antidote to all that. The woman in today’s lesson shows us what it is. It is the recognition that we are not, after all, sufficient unto ourselves; that we are not perfect; that we do not have all the answers; that we do have a deep need – every one of us – for God’s forgiveness and love.
This might strike you as pretty “weak tea.” But think about it for a minute – all of the worst people throughout history, the Caesars, the Hitlers, the Stalins, the Mao Tse-Tungs – every one of them, like Simon, felt no need for forgiveness, no need for love, no need to care for anyone else, much less about what anyone else might think or feel, because they were the center of the Universe. When everyone else is beneath you, it’s easy to walk on them, which they did.
But we need each other. I don’t know what Simon’s eventual fate was, but I do know how Stalin’s life came to an end. One night, he suffered a massive heart attack, and fell out of bed. His retainers heard the thump as he hit the floor; but they were so terrified of him that they waited for hours before they cracked open the bedroom door to find out what had happened. By then, of course, he was gone. According to the autopsy, he hadn’t died right away, but had lain there on the cold floor for hours before he finally gasped his last. His had been a life devoted to power and terror; and when he needed help and compassion, there was no one there to give it to him.
The task before us this morning is to “judge rightly.” We are to recognize that we are that person who owes the five hundred bucks, a debt which we cannot ever conceivably repay, and to dedicate ourselves to lives of love and compassion.
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.
[1] https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/44567.Theodore_Roosevelt
[2] Barclay, William, The Gospel of Luke, Louisville, Kentucky, Westminster John Knox Press, 1975, 2001, p. 112