Göttinger Predigten
Göttinger Predigten im Internet hg. von U. Nembach
Pentecost 3, 06/13/2010
Sermon on Luke 7:36-8:3 , by John E. Priest
36 One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee's house and took his place at the table. 37 And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining 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 this, 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, "Say it, Teacher."
41 "A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?" 43 Simon answered, "The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt." 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."
8
1 Soon afterward he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming 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 Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, 3 and Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod's household manager, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their means.
Understandably Upset
Simon the Pharisee was understandably upset. No doubt you'd be too if what happened to him happened to you.
Let's try it out and see. Imagine that Jesus is here. Well - he is here. But imagine Jesus is here like you and I are here. He's come to deliver the sermon this morning instead of me. And we've all come eager to hear.
But then she enters the picture. She didn't come in with the rest of us - taking a bulletin from the usher, sitting down in a pew. She slipped in late. Just to look at her, you know she's not a part of the church crowd at all. Her make-up is heavy and lewd. She wears a dress that fits so tight it reveals more than it conceals. Some of you have seen her before. You know where she hangs out. And it sure isn't here.
But somehow she's heard that Jesus is here this morning and his words are meant for her. That's why she's come. She's terrified at the thought of what might happen to her here. Will she be stopped at the door? Laughed at? Publicly scorned by the morally correct people who normally inhabit the pews? It wouldn't surprise her. It happens all the time.
But still she does what she has to do. She heads up the center aisle - timidly at first. Then running she throws herself down at Jesus' feet - right here in front of us all. She begins to weep uncontrollably. Her tears bathe Jesus' feet. She dries them with her hair. Incredibly, Jesus lets her do it. He even seems to enjoy it.
And what do you, the congregation, make of all this? Honest! Wouldn't you be horrified? Or at the least horribly embarrassed? Surely you'd expect somebody to put a stop to this. Why don't the ushers do something? Doesn't Jesus know who she is? Some of you would probably decide the incident had better be taken up at the next meeting of the Immanuel board.
But Jesus knows what you're thinking, and so, true to form, he tells you a story: two men had their homes mortgaged to the same bank. One was a month behind on his payments; the other a whole year behind. The bank was threatening to foreclose on the both of them. But then, in a wildly unexpected turn of events, the bank simply cancels the debt of both. So tell me, says Jesus, which man got the better deal? Which one had the greater occasion for gratitude?
The obvious answer is the man who was a whole year behind on his payments. Of course.
And Jesus says, Sure. And this woman can't do enough to thank me because her sins, though they were many, have been forgiven. In fact, she puts you to shame. Because such outrageous displays of affection, far from being out of place, ought to be commonplace.
Jesus' Challenge
So you have to know how much you've been forgiven before you can love Jesus as you ought. It's a matter of being a Christian on Jesus' terms, not ours. According to Jesus, the first thing you do, as the woman did, is take the risk of acknowledging the greatness of your sin. So Jesus challenges Simon - and you and me and anybody else who might be ranked with the "ins" instead of the "outs," Jesus is challenging you to take the risk of loving him for what he alone can do. It is the risk of admitting that it is not your goodness, your support of the work of the church, your feeding the hungry or giving for the relief of the poor or anything else you might lump into the category of respectable good deeds - that nothing of the sort is going to get you one inch closer to the kingdom of God. Only the forgiveness of sins does that. And that presumes that you have some sins to forgive and - what's more - that you know it.
So you begin with the honest confession that there's something radically wrong with you. Yes - even you. And one of the things that just might be radically wrong with you is a not so pretty inclination to look down on others whom you think are less morally correct than you are.
This is tough stuff. It sounds totally strange to a world that teaches us that we ought to feel good about ourselves. I'm okay. You're okay. We're all okay. What's with this talk about sin and guilt? It's a downer, no? Maybe even a psychiatric disorder. Who wants to admit that there's something terribly wrong with him?
This is the way the world thinks. Jesus knows better. And he teaches otherwise. Being okay is just that - okay. Jesus has something better in mind. Better than okay, you can know that you are loved, cared for, died for people. Better than okay, you can know how highly honored and esteemed you are, not for the sake of what you've done, but for the sake of what Christ did when he carried that cross to Golgotha. How much more esteemed and honored and loved can you possibly be? And it all begins - your knowing this - when you take the risk of acknowledging your sin and humbly plead for mercy.
What Happened Next
But that's just the beginning. That's not where it ends. So it's interesting to speculate what happened next with Simon, the Pharisee, who was so upset by the woman's outrageous display of affection toward Jesus. Could it be that Jesus' love for sinners got through to him? It's not altogether farfetched to suppose that it did. After all, many of the people we meet in the New Testament are nameless. But in this case, we know the name of the Pharisee - Simon. And this is probably because he later became a member of the new Christian community and told of the encounter with Jesus that changed his life.
Such a change was not impossible for Simon, not any more than for us when we are touched by Christ. And as we are touched by his love, we realize that the risk we take involves not only admitting that we're in need of the mercy of God. It also involves daring to ask what we should be doing for Christ that we're not already doing. What should be changed in the way we live with our families, go about our business, and otherwise conduct our affairs?
So what if Jesus' love for sinners got through even to Simon? Think of Simon and the woman meeting the next day on one of the streets of their little village. If Jesus' love got through to Simon, did he cross over to the other side of the street as he formerly would have done? Or did he stop to speak with her? Perhaps even invite her to supper in his home? And what about her? Would she drop her eyes in continued shame? Or would she hold her head high as a forgiven member of the kingdom of God - her sordid past behind her?
It's proper to ask such questions because Jesus doesn't just leave us sitting here in church. He sends us out into the world as forgiven sinners who keep bumping into other forgiven sinners. And Jesus' love leads us to forgive as we have been forgiven, to deal with one another as God deals with us. Such a change is not impossible - either for Simon or for us. And when it happens, outrageous displays of affection for Jesus and for one another will indeed become commonplace.
In the name of Jesus. Amen.