“Friends in Low Places”- June 12, 2016

Luke 7:36-8:3

            Simon the Pharisee may have thought he was pulling off some sort of social triumph by having Jesus to dinner at his house.  There are always people who enjoy being surrounded by celebrities, as if some of their fame will rub off.  It also gives an opportunity to namedrop.  As I said to Oprah the other day, “I get so tired of the paparazzi breaking down the rhododendrons…”  Or maybe Simon was genuinely offering hospitality to a traveling rabbi and his disciples; Jesus and the Pharisees had a lot more in common than we sometimes would think from the gospels.  The problem, either way, was that Jesus traveled with an entourage, and Simon wasn’t quite sure how to handle some of his followers. 

            Some of them were an embarrassment.  That hasn’t changed.  There are some religious people who are considered socially acceptable and some who aren’t, even apart from their beliefs.  It would be a major life experience if the Dalai Lama dropped in for a visit, or if Desmond Tutu stuck his head in.  I disagree with a lot of what Jerry Falwell said, but I will long remember introducing him when he gave a speech.  But there are a lot more folks who will never achieve that kind of status.  There are the ones whose trunks are completely plastered with bumperstickers.  There are the ones who answer the phone, “Praise the Lord!”  There are those that are going to offer to pray for you when you have a headache instead of offering to get you an aspirin.  Put people like that into some kind of social event and who knows what might happen?

            In the old Marx Brothers movies, there’s the society hostess, Margaret Dumont, that Groucho loves to embarrass.  He walks up to her and starts to comment on everything and everyone around them and she stands there twisting her necklace and looking scared, like she’s trying to find the most polite way to tell him to leave.

            Or what about the scene that Garth Brooks describes in his most famous song:

“Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots
And ruined your black tie affair
The last one to show, the last one to know
The last one you thought you'd see there
I saw the surprise, and the fear in his eyes
When I took his glass of champagne
Then I toasted you, said honey we may be through
But you'll never hear me complain.”

            In Simon the Pharisee’s house, the interloper was “a woman in the city, who was a sinner”.  [Luke 7:37]  Isn’t that a great euphemism?  No need to go any further than that.  We know all about her.  We don’t need to know any more, and she has found her way into the dinner party.  In contrast, over there are Jesus’ respectable friends, including

“some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.” [Luke 8:2-3]

The new addition doesn’t quite fit into their category, however.  She has money enough to buy expensive items, and we won’t ask too much where it comes from, but no sense of the scene she’s making as,

“having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, [she] brought an alabaster jar of ointment. 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.” [Luke 7:37-38]

Who does something like that?  And who takes them seriously?

Jesus had the answer to the question that Simon didn’t want to raise, but that kept going through his head: “Doesn’t Jesus know who this woman is?  Can’t he see?  How can he let her touch him, as if he were one of her clients?”  Jesus didn’t even wait to let him speak the question.  He knew what he was thinking, and he addressed it in a way that started out politely enough.

“Jesus spoke up and said to him, ‘Simon, I have something to say to you.’ ‘Teacher,’ he replied, ‘speak.’ ‘A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’ Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’” [Luke 7:40-43]

I can imagine Simon thinking, “Okay, okay, I get it,” because he clearly did get it.  We all get it.  The major sinner will repent in a big way.   Michael Vick will stop betting on dogfights and will sponsor animal shelters.  Watergate conspirator Charles Colson will go to jail and when he gets out will start Prison Fellowship International.  That’s how these things are done.

            Jesus gets a little personal about it, though, at least with Simon. 

“Then turning towards 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. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing 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 were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’” [Luke 7:44-47]

Her sins were obvious, even to her.  Simon’s sins were not even obvious to himself, and that led to an even bigger flaw, which was the failure to love.  Ouch.

            When you have most things together, it’s easy to pretend you have everything together.  It’s easy to forget that there’s really no difference between a train that goes six inches off the track or one that goes six feet off the track.  Either way there is a derailment and somebody is going to get hurt.  Big sinners or little sinners – we need God’s mercy, either way.  There are sins of commission – things that we do; and there are also sins of omission – things that we should do but forget or neglect or put off.  We need God’s mercy, either way.  And either way, God offers that mercy to us.  That’s the good news.

            And either way, God asks us to be merciful to one another.  That’s the challenge that comes with it.  Give Simon the Pharisee some credit.  He didn’t have the woman thrown out, and he listened to what Jesus had to say, both about her and about himself.  And, once again, the gospel doesn’t tell us what he did after this or how he responded – which frustrates me, because I feel like I want everything wrapped up, preferably with a happy ending to the episode where they all become lifelong friends and followers of Jesus.  But the point isn’t really how Simon responded.  The point is to ask how you and I will respond when we are in similar spots.

            Do we learn how to love or don’t we?  We get to write that part ourselves – with God’s help.