Beyond Proper
Luke
7:36-8:3
by Jim Westmoreland
We all tell stories. More important, we love to hear or, even better, be included in stories. Why? Because stories structure our lives and endow us with meaning. I can remember the ritual of reading or telling stories to my children at bed time each night. When we were deciding which story to read, sometimes they would beg for me to tell them a story about the children with the same names as theirs.
Stories are not just for children. They are a part of our lives, because our stories (along with our rituals) are the primary vehicles by which we humans name and organize the world. All people participate in social worlds of meaning that shape identity and behavior. In order for communities to endure through time, stories of origins and how we came to be and how we came to be here are composed and told again and again.
Christianity is no exception. How we form our Christian identity requires participation in church so that we can hear the stories of the faith and act out the rituals of the tradition. Churches that are reluctant to share their faith stories make it difficult for others in the church and, especially, those who are following after them, to find and affirm their own faith stories.
Participation in church means to share a common world of meaning where corporate memories and hopes, as well as celebrations of the normative events of the community, serve as both glue and a bridge for the generations within the church. It is only by encountering practicing Christians can an individual be introduced to, influenced by, and eventually incorporated into the larger social world of Christian life.
In short, identity formation never occurs in isolation; always in a communal context. Therefore, the church is a "story-formed community" that is rooted in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus the Christ. On a general level, the Bible serves as the primary witness to the originating and sustaining events of the Hebrew people and the Christian community and on a particular level, each Gospel recounts the normative events for the church.
As we focus our attention on this passage in Luke, we find the three interrelated themes of hospitality, forgiveness, and love which enable Luke's story to both undermine cultural conventions and envision a new communal order.
A social crisis that introduces two series of contrasts defines this mini-drama. The entrance of "a woman in the city, who was a sinner," creates a crisis that initially contrasts the responses of the two religious leaders-Simon, the Pharisee, and Jesus, the prophet. The Pharisee distances himself from the woman, while Jesus accepts her. Simon reasons to himself that if Jesus were a prophet he would not only know this woman's character but he would also prevent her from touching him. Because Jesus does not expel her, he cannot be a prophet, and therefore his message and ministry are invalid. By telling the parable of the two debtors, Jesus completes the contrast. He knows the character of both the woman and the Pharisee! And he is more than a prophet since at the end of Luke's story he forgives the woman's sins (7:48).
The story of the debtors highlights the contrast between the responses of Simon and the woman to Jesus. Only late in Luke's narrative (7:44-46) does the reader learn that it is the sinner (7:34), and not Simon the Pharisee (7:30), who extends hospitality. Regardless of Simon's motives for hosting Jesus, the invitation would have assumed that certain cultural norms would be observed. When a person outside a community is invited to dine in someone's home, that stranger is treated as a guest. Rules of obligation applied to both parties which insured that hostility was avoided and honor was protected. For Simon, Jesus flunked the test since he violated purity regulations by allowing the woman to touch him. But, more importantly, Simon failed. By not providing a basin to wash Jesus's dusty feet, a kiss of greeting, and olive oil to anoint his head, Simon was discourteous and disingenuous. In contrast, the woman washed Jesus's feet with her tears, dried them with her hair, kissed his feet repeatedly, and anointed them with ointment. This was all very personal, highly sensuous contact. We would call it inappropriate behavior. It is was clearly beyond that which was considered proper. The contrast could not be greater. This woman lavishly extended hospitality while Simon withheld it.
At the end of the story Luke shifts the theme from hospitality to forgiveness and love. Because her sins are forgiven, she exhibits "great love" (7:47). Although there is some scholarly debate about whether her love earned forgiveness or her earlier forgiveness generated much love, most commentators endorse the latter. Robin Casarjian observes: "Forgiveness restores our hearts to the innocence that we knew-an innocence that allowed us the freedom to love."
The different responses to Jesus of the Pharisee and the woman achieve for Luke a "fundamental reversal in readers' cultural expectations." The violation of hospitality norms not only enhances the stature of Jesus in the eyes of the reader but it also introduces new social relationships. Because Simon actually hinders access to Jesus and does not recognize his own need for forgiveness, he is the social deviant, not the one that he criticized and looked down on. The "hero" of the story is not the male, named, religious leader, Simon, but the female, unnamed, uninvited sinner.(1)
Gabriel Axel's beautiful 1997 film, Babette's Feast, offers a modern parable that wonderfully illustrates the power and dignity of true hospitality. The story revolves around life in a small Danish village in the 19th century. There, a small Protestant church serves as the social and cultural center for the villagers. Members of the tiny remnant congregation observe with severe discipline the teachings of the revered pastor. His two daughters, Martina and Philippa, give their lives to serve both their father and his tiny church. Even after his death, they take up his mantle, leading prayers and hymns and Bible study.
Enter Babette, a French refugee, who comes to work for the sisters and their aging father. Into this austere and bleak community sweeps a lovely breath of fresh air. Everything about Babette exudes life and vitality. The sisters assume Babette is a simple, homeless waif, not realizing that in her life in France, she was an accomplished gourmet chef.
Following their father's death, Martina and Philippa decide they want to hold a dinner in honor of the 100th anniversary of his birth. They approach Babette with the idea of having the congregation gather for a simple supper of broth and turnips, but Babette has other ideas. Having won the lottery, Babette asks permission to throw a fancy banquet in honor of the kindness shown her by the sisters and their father. The sisters reluctantly agree, and Babette spends her entire fortune on a gourmet seven-course meal with fine wines, linen tablecloths, china, and crystal.
Unaccustomed to such finery-for years, they have been taught that all luxury is sin, and the small congregation approaches Babette's feast with some trepidation, but as the meal progresses, a glorious transformation occurs. The men and women of the village relax, and they begin to enjoy one another's company as they enjoy the food. They confess their sins to each other, seeking and receiving forgiveness for hurts old and new. They become, for the first time in their entire lives, a true community, bound by their table fellowship and the gift of God's (and Babette's) bounty and blessing. One of the characters toasts the table, saying, "There comes a time when our eyes are opened and we come to realize that mercy is infinite." So it is in the face of true hospitality.
Think of a world where each and every person makes a commitment to "love one another with mutual affection, outdo one another in showing honor" as Paul writes in Romans 12:10. This means showing hospitality to all, not just those we like, but even strangers and people we don't care for. And, we would have to include sinners, for if we excluded sinners, we would have to exclude ourselves!
This passage is a difficult reminder that at the table of the Lord, God gets to make the rules, and any table that includes Jesus includes the sinner as well. Hospitality is a two way street. We cannot extend our kindness to Jesus and withhold it from those Jesus dearly loves. The passage also reminds us that there is enough for everyone. When it comes to kindness, grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness, our God is a God of never-ending supply. When we remember to share, to give freely, to love boldly, and to be truly hospitable then even our sins can be forgiven.(2)
A lot of damage can occur in a family. Parents can be hurt. Children can be hurt. But there is always hope in a home where forgiveness is present. John R. Aurelio, in his book Colors!, gives us a beautiful portrayal of this side of God.
On the sixth day, God created Father Adam and Mother Eve. On the seventh day, as God was resting, they asked Him if He would give them something special to commemorate their birthday. So God reached into His treasure chest and took out a sacred coin. Written on it was the word "LOVE."
On the eighth day, Father Adam and Mother Eve sinned. As they left the Garden of Eden, they asked God for an assurance that He would not abandon them.
"You have the coin," He told them.
"But, the coin says LOVE," they answered. "We have lost love. How ever will we find it again?"
"Turn it over," God said.
On the other side of the coin was written the word "FORGIVENESS."
Aurelio goes on to say that there is no love without forgiveness and no forgiveness without love. They are the two sides of the same coin.(3)
Our text today suggests that Jesus is more concerned with our hearts, with redemption, with the joy of forgiveness and new beginnings than He is with externals, with appearances and with what is considered to be proper. He goes far beyond proper. There is also a great Father's Day lesson here. If you want to give your children great love, be rich in your forgiveness and in expressing your affection and gratitude for your wife and your children. Amen.
Century Christian Church, June 17, 2007 - Sermon by Jim Westmoreland
www.centurychristian.org
1. Paul H. Jones
2. Dan R. Dick
3. John R. Aurelio, Colors!, New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1993, p. 133.