June 13, 2010
Luke 7:36-50
Susan J. Armstrong+
We love to be at the beautiful blue ocean, bordered by white sand beaches. The sea air is wonderfully refreshing. The ocean seems endless. We still use the British term “all at sea” from the era of the long ocean voyage. Once a ship steamed away from port, it was on its own. Who knew what would happen out on the great blue sea? And even though now we have jet travel and global telecommunication, the high seas remain a mystery. Even the fiercest naval battle ends with the sea’s surface quietly closing over the fiery wreckage.
But things are changing in the ocean, especially in the states bordering the Gulf of Mexico. Many of us have been saddened and horrified by the photos of pelicans struggling to fly, struggling to clean their feathers, struggling to breathe. I can’t get out of my mind the image of some kind of a bird, perhaps a sea gull, which looks almost frightening, like a creature from the swamp, so coated with oil that its eyes are covered in blackness. Surely God, the creator of this beautiful world, is grieving too.
Our Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, is a marine biologist. Recently she has said that there is a lesson which might be learned. She says that this disaster just may show us as a nation how interconnected we really are. The oil that continues to vent from the sea floor has spread through hundreds of cubic miles of oceans, poisoning creatures of all sizes and forms. The oil has also poisoned the livelihood of the fishers of southern Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Florida, who seek to feed their families with the proceeds of what they catch each day.
We are in what is called a teachable moment. This is an opportunity to learn that we are indeed interconnected with each other and with all of creation. But deep and abiding change is hard. Transformation is not easy, quick or cheap. It starts with listening for the leading of the Spirit and listening to the voices of those who are suffering. How can we do this? One suggestion is to take an image of the contamination of creation, of the suffering and dying wildlife from the Gulf, or the death of the marshes, and meditate on it. Or we can read or listen to the story of a person whose livelihood has been destroyed or who died on the oil rig. We read in 1st Corinthians that if one part of the body suffers, every part suffers with it.
As we listen and discern how the Spirit is present, we will feel deep sorrow at the suffering we see. We will perhaps then understand something of the deep sorrow felt by the woman in our gospel story.
The story tells of a meal in the house of Simon the Pharisee. During the meal a woman approached Jesus. She has heard that Jesus will be there, and so she is waiting with the others when he comes. She is standing behind him and as the meal begins she begins to weep. Her tears fall upon Jesus’ feet, each tear making a wet mark in the dust of his feet. Now she unfastens her long black hair and lets it fall free. She kneels down and begins to wipe his feet with her hair. Next she begins to kiss his feet. This might strike us as odd or even erotic, but in her culture kissing the feet was a mark of deep reverence. Finally she pours scented oil onto his feet out of an alabastron, or perfume vial, which Jewish women often wore around their neck.
Simon the Pharisee is scandalized, since the woman was known to be a sinner, probably a prostitute. And because Jesus doesn’t seem offended by her attentions, Simon assumes that Jesus must not know who she is and that Jesus must not be a prophet. But just as Simon is at his most judgmental, Jesus says to him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”
Simon says, OK, and so Jesus tells him a story of two men who each owed money to a moneylender. Neither one could pay him back, so he canceled their debts. Jesus asks Simon which one will love the moneylender the most? And Simon replies, the one who had the greatest debt. And then Jesus turned toward the woman and compared her hospitality with that of Simon. Simon, the wealthy Pharisee, didn’t give much of a welcome. But the sinful woman gave an extravagant welcome. Jesus tells Simon that her many sins have been forgiven and so she loves much.
I wonder if you would join me in an experiment. Imagine that you are sitting next to Jesus at a dinner, and you had been thinking some judgmental and unkind thoughts about an unkempt person whom you had just seen hitchhiking on 101. This person comes in and sits next to Jesus and begins to weep. Or imagine you are condemning BP and its employees. Just as you are getting on your high horse, Jesus turns to you and says he has something to tell you. Try it now if you would like, quietly, under your breath, using your own name. Susan, I have something to tell you.
Jesus does speak to us like this; he is in touch with our thoughts and actions, and he calls us to our best self. Not our judgmental and prejudiced and self-righteous self, but our best self, compassionate and helpful to those in need.
Let’s go back to the story for a minute. The woman came to Jesus out of gratitude; she came out of love. Can you see her face shining now? The tears are still flowing, but flowing with beauty and gratitude of having been changed and lifted and loved. This woman joins the company of all of us who want to serve Jesus.
Let us pray. Beloved Jesus, help us serve you, help us listen when you speak to us, and help us honor all the creatures God has made. Amen.
