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| Do You See This Woman? |
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Luke 7:36-8:3 June 13, 2010 by This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it (please feel free to e-mail or call with questions or responses) I just got back from lovely Green Lake, Wisconsin yesterday afternoon, and I bring you greetings and love from your fellow UCC’ers gathered there for the purposes of learning, growing, and seeking vision for the future, but also to make repeated jokes about who forgot the reusable coffee mugs. Clearly, we are a caffeinated people. One of the speakers there was a pastor, professor, and author by the name of Lillian Daniel. She has recently written a book about the Christian practice of testimony and how we can reclaim it to help weave our stories with the movement of the Spirit and begin to trace how our narratives are a part of the larger story of how God is trying to love the world. You will be hearing more about testimony from Phil and myself and hopefully some of you. Nobody get sweaty yet. I will not be calling on any of you to tell your stories without warning. But, in that spirit, let me do a little testifying myself… Here it is… I don’t put bumper stickers on my car. I don’t do this for two reasons. 1. My father, who considers cars the way Hindus do cows, would never approve. 2. Summing up your ideology in one word or sentence fragment is tough, and I’d rather have a conversation with somebody. Maybe I feel like I have a lot to explain. Maybe I’m worried about being seen and understood in a way that ends the conversation before it begins, especially since I understand conversations to be central to how I try to carry out ministry and simply be in the world. Maybe I’ve thought too much about this and should just let loose with the pithy statements and adhesive. Who knows? This doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t have an array of stickers on the bumpers of my mind. The nice thing about those bumpers is that it’s easy to change the stickers when something better comes along. That, and no messy adhesive. And… it doesn’t upset my father. One of those stickers on my mind currently is one I saw on the beltline this week. It was about Jesus and about how he probably wouldn’t carry a gun or vote a certain way. I’ll be diplomatic and let you do what you will with that one. Another one is a funny statement my friend David loves to broadcast, “Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.” See- I could never really put that on my car, but I have to admit it does make me giggle a bit. A third one that’s there is always there on my mind bumpers. You probably know it. It reads, “Well-behaved women rarely make history.” If you were listening during the reading of the text from Luke just now, you probably know where I’m going with this. It appears we’ve got an ill-behaved woman on our hands, doesn’t it? She’s made history right? She’s in the Bible. She must be wiley. Well, she is and she isn’t. It’s all in how you see her. For years, Biblical scholars have seen her as ill-behaved. Their word for that is “sinful.” They call their studies of her story things like “The Pardon of the Sinful Woman” and “The Woman Who Was a Sinner” and “A Sinful Woman Forgiven.” Do you sense a theme here? Simon, the Pharisee who has invited Jesus to his house in this story certainly sees her this way. He says only sort of under his breath, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” Keep in mind that this is an anonymous woman. She is never named. Yet, Pope Gregory of many moons ago collapsed her story with the story of Mary Magdalene in his writings despite the fact that they are clearly two different characters. And, you know what Mary’s reputation is, right? She is sinful, right? The story says so, right? Let’s hear her introduction again: …a woman in the city (How do we hear that? Woman + city = prostitute) …who was a sinner (It’s hard to argue with a statement like that, right?) …having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. (Well, now how does a woman of this time get the money for such an expensive possession? Hmmmm….) Then there’s all that business about the woman touching Jesus’ feet—that would have crossed all kinds of social, gender, and familiarity boundaries women of Jesus’ time never should have crossed. And her hair is loose. Loose hair, loose woman, right? But, (gasp!) here’s the sinker- she kisses his feet. Floozy. I mean, we’ve clearly seen her for who she is—a sinner—haven’t we? Simon, the religious leader, a pope, and a bunch of biblical scholars couldn’t possibly have blurry vision about this woman, could they? What happens if we look with different eyes? Eyes that see that it is dangerous to make assumptions about women and people in general. Eyes that see that a female city dweller of this time could have the resources for an expensive gift like she gives through inheritance of property or money upon her father’s death or through work as a weaver, a midwife, a nurse, or a musician. What if we saw her slip in the back door to find her way to Jesus instead of seeing her as “participant” in the banquet, which would have made her a prostitute during this time period. What if we saw that she is not referred to by any term, and there were many, that would have designated her body as up for sale? What if we saw that the text uses the imperfect tense for sinful, which has the connotation, “used to be” a sinner. Read- is no longer. What if we saw her boundary crossing as courageous and revolutionary and in the vein of the one whose feet she anoints? What if saw her loose hair as beautiful and her crowning glory, like the speaker does in the Song of Songs, a little read book of the Hebrew scriptures. A line from Song of Songs reads, “your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead.” Hey- if your audience is a bunch of shepherds, there is no higher compliment. Try slapping that bumper sticker on your car and see where it gets you, gentlemen. What if we saw that everybody knew, or thought they knew everybody else’s business in the city, and that once you were deemed a sinner, it was a difficult if not impossible label to shed, particularly for women. What if we saw that all it took to get yourself labeled as a sinner during Jesus’ time was falling ill, being born or becoming disabled, or having contact with Gentiles, like through work as a midwife or a merchant of cloth. What if we saw that the word used to describe the woman as “sinful,” hamartolos, is the same word that is used to describe Peter, the Rock upon whom the Church was built? All these “what ifs” might adjust our vision of this woman a bit if we let them sink in. Then we might be able to shift our focus from her sinfulness, where it lands easily—just ask Simon. We might be able to shift our focus and let it land on the real bumper sticker-worthy question in this exchange. Jesus turns to look at the woman, and poses the question to Simon. “Do you see this woman?” Jesus says. Can you look past the labels you have slapped on her, the assumptions you have made about her, and the judgments you have cast upon her to really see her as I see her? See, Simon thinks he’s got it all figured out. He’s got that righteous vision, or so he thinks. He’s a man in a time when public and most private power was squarely in the hands of men. He’s a religious leader, and we all know how powerful they are. He’s righteous, or so he thinks. He follows the purity laws, observes proper boundaries, keeps up appearances, and is generally holier-than-all-y’all, like my southern friends like to say. But then there’s that pesky Jesus and his question. “Do you see this woman, Simon? I mean, really see her as I see her?” Here is Jesus, standing in that place that has become oh-so-familiar to him. He’s standing on the boundary between the ultimate insider and the ultimate outsider and reaching for them both. That precarious boundary place has become comfortable and familiar for Jesus. It’s where he chooses to be. Remember what happens right before this story in Luke? Jesus heals the slave of the Centurion. He offers healing to the outsider’s outsider. Then he crosses purity lines to touch the funeral bier of the widow’s dead son. The text says, “When he saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he raises the dead man and gives him to his distraught mother. “Do you see this woman, Simon?” Not as sinful. Not as outsider or unclean. Not as dangerous. Not as invaluable or disposable, unworthy or other. “Do you see this woman, Simon?” Can you see her as brave? Grateful? Vulnerable and willing to risk? Can you see her love that goes beyond customary hospitality and proper exchange? Can you see how her love makes her bold and strong and free? Can you see how it makes her generous and open? Can you see how it grows out of her experience of forgiveness, the glimpse she has seen in Jesus of God’s intention to heal and recreate life, to restore relationships, and to free those labeled as sinful to live out God’s extravagant love? “Do you see this woman, Simon?” Can you see her as my beloved? Jesus chooses not to rebuke Simon for his quick judgments, his tight boundaries, and his serious lack of insight on his own uptight and alienating sinfulness. Jesus tells him a story to illustrate where this woman is coming from, why she acts with such abandon and unstoppable love. Jesus uses the parable and this simple question to challenge and invite Simon to conversion, to a new way of seeing that could be everything for him. It could be salvation. The woman clearly knows this to be true. This broken and marginalized woman has experienced forgiveness and the grace of God, and like Peter, the Rock, she has become a means of grace for the glory of God and a witness to the transformative power of love for everyone around her. Even those who would exclude, judge, and marginalize her, like Simon. If Simon could fine-tune his vision, he too could know the gracious love of God in Jesus who is ever casting the net wider and wider and wider. He could truly understand that what makes this woman weep is relief and gratitude and a sense of really belonging to the One who transforms life. This is salvation. Salvation… it’s a word we progressive Christians need to do a little work on reclaiming. Here’s our work for this morning: The Hebrew word for salvation means “to make sufficient.” Therefore, salvation is the discovery that life without God is insufficient, and that God’s grace makes sense of and opens up life in unimaginable ways. The Greek word for salvation means “to heal” or “to make well.” Put those two together in the wisdom of our sacred texts and we know salvation as the experience of losing ourselves in grace that’s bigger than we are or can imagine and that makes us well. Surely this salvation, this grace is what was making this woman weep. Surely this salvation, this grace is what Simon needs. What we all need. Simon needs to find a way to see differently, to redraw his boundaries, and discover that God’s righteousness is God’s mercy. He needs the eyes to see that unrighteousness is less about our outward sinfulness and shame and more about the contempt we hold for ourselves, others, and the God who loves us. Simon needs to see and understand that this kind of contempt leads to a lack of graciousness and gratitude in relationships and deep need for divine mercy. All this available for those who learn to really see. Seeing is a recurrent theme in Luke’s gospel. Luke uses it as a metaphor perceiving the Word of God, really getting what Jesus is about and responding properly to him. A very significant part of Jesus’ mission is to bring sight to the blind. Jesus says to John’s disciples who want to know if Jesus is the one they’ve been waiting for or if they need to look for someone else, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news proclaimed to them.” This is sight the woman has gained thanks to Jesus. She has been invited to walk with Jesus, cleansed of what ailed and alienated her, made ready to hear words of love, raised from death into the life of community again, and so has become a surprising and powerful vessel for the good news that Jesus is bringing. That is healing and salvation, and that is what Jesus is trying to offer Simon too through his story-telling and questioning. We don’t know how Simon answers Jesus’ question, if he ever really sees the woman and so perceives the love and grace Jesus is trying to bring to him too. I think the story is left open ended for a reason. Luke wants his readers, and that includes us today, to learn to see Jesus in people we overlook, write off, marginalize, and withhold mercy from on a daily basis. Here are some questions of our own to consider. Please know that I’m asking them of myself as well. Who do you overlook? Who do you marginalize knowingly or unknowingly? How the have you closed yourself off to the Good News of transforming love, of healing, of salvation that steeps us in a grace that is big enough to hold us and make us well? Whose face do you refuse to see? And what opportunity have you missed as a result to really see Jesus and the Good News he is bringing of a kingdom that breaks down boundaries, recalls the outcast, heals relationships, builds up love in community, and has the power to transform lives? “Do you see this woman, (fill in your name here)? For to miss her is to miss Jesus himself. To overlook her is to overlook a love that can turn your life completely around. When we catch this vision, when we see the woman, the sinful, the stranger, the outcast, the overlooked, then we see Jesus and his love breaking through. It is in those moments of grace breaking in that God is trying to open up our lives for our own salvation. Frederick Buechner writes of this, “If you turn your back on such a moment and hurry along to business as usual, it may lose you the ball game. If you throw your arms around such a moment and hug it like crazy it may save your soul.” Do you see this woman? She is sinful. She is outcast. She is marginalized. She is forgiven. She is healing. She is grateful. She is extravagant love. She is showing you Jesus. She is God’s Good News breaking through. She is transformation. She is salvation. Do you see this woman? I think we’ve got ourselves a new bumper sticker, friends. It would make for a good reminder to refocus our vision, wouldn’t it? We’ve certainly got testimony too in the extravagant love and gratitude the woman shows for the one who has transformed her life and called her beloved. May we, like the woman in our story for today, truly see. And may we testify to the love, the transformation, and the salvation that finds us via this new sight. Do you see this woman? Slap that one on the bumper of your minds and hearts and see where the road takes you. Amen. |