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Home Page
The Rector's Welcome
Worship
Sermons
Music & the Organ
Newsletter
Schedule & Events
History
Programs & Ministries
Tour the Building
Links
Map & Directions
Monthly Calendar
Home Page
The Rector's Welcome
Worship
Sermons
Music & the Organ
Newsletter
Schedule & Events
History
Programs & Ministries
Tour the Building
Links
Map & Directions
Monthly Calendar
Fr. J. D. Ousley
13 June 2004“Sinners' Paradise”
In the Name of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Amen.
One cause that liberal-minded Christian groups have taken up in recent years is the welfare of those who work in the "sex industry."
This concern isn't new. For some of these workers used to be called "prostitutes" and the church has traditionally tried to help people in this dangerous occupation.
Today, though, in the eyes of some progressives, "sex workers" should have the right to sell their bodies or images of their bodies. In the view of the progressives, the role of the church is not to condemn the life-style of these workers but to be sure they have health insurance and other benefits.
And I would agree that our primary responsibility as Christians is to look after these vulnerable women and men — rather than to condemn them morally.
But in our eagerness not to be puritans we may lose sight of the needs of those workers who would prefer not to sell themselves in the first place. In theory, they may have "chosen" their occupation — but, in reality, they might feel they have little choice about earning a living.
These sex workers then could need more than health benefits. They might need to feel that if they returned to a conventional way of life, they would be accepted as normal friends and neighbors.
Here, the traditional message of the Church remains valid. That message is illustrated in the powerful example of acceptance described in today's Second Lesson.
At the beginning of the story, Jesus is being entertained by a prosperous and upstanding Pharisee named Simon. While the dinner party is going on, a woman in the city who is "a sinner" bursts in, carrying an alabaster jar of ointment.
The woman stands behind Jesus, weeping. She then bathes Christ's feet with her tears, dries them with her hair, kisses his feet and finally puts the ointment on his feet.
Although the woman's particular sin isn't revealed, most scholars believe she was a prostitute. For one thing, respectable women at that time didn't let their hair hang loose.
Jill McNish, a priest and therapist, suggests that respectability is at the heart of this passage. Dr. McNish writes, "In first-century Palestine, when this happened, there were very strict rules in Judaism about whom you ate with and whom you did not eat with, whom you touched and whom you did not touch. These were religious laws, and it was shameful to disregard them. Women could not eat with men. Women did not let their hair down in public. Prostitutes were not permitted to touch holy men at respectable dinner parties.
"But," Dr. McNish goes on, "this woman [is] not daunted by the setting. She does not ask to be admitted. The woman's emotions are extravagant and inappropriate ... Tears flow from the well of her heart and cascade to the feet of Jesus. She uses her tears and her hair to wash his feet, then pours costly oil on him ...
"In Jesus' acceptance of her approach and her intimate touch, she is feeling the grace of 'all rightness' for all that is not right in her, all that is broken."
A story, then, of the boundless generosity of God. And if God could forgive this woman her public selling of her body, couldn't God also forgive ordinary people whose sins are much smaller?
I should note that the woman in the story has been misidentified as Mary Magdalene — thus spawning all kinds of unwarranted speculations, including the wild idea now being spread by New Age thinkers that Jesus was married to the woman with the precious ointment.
Such myth-making, however, inadvertently supports the major theme of the story. Though we know nothing about Christ's married or unmarried life, we see how Christ brought to people an extraordinary sense of divine love. Through Jesus, the grace of God became manifest in the most unlikely ways.
Try to picture the story taking place today. Imagine that the Bishop of New York has been invited to dinner at the home of our Senior Warden. While the Bishop is eating, a prostitute comes in wearing provocative clothes. The prostitute then starts crying, and kissing the bishop's feet, and putting Armani eau de toilette on them!
We would be surprised — to say the least! Yet once we had gotten through our initial shock, I hope we would have calmed down and asked the Senior Warden to go on and serve the next course. For Jesus expects us to be accepting as he was.
Rather than trying to induce guilt, the followers of Christ ought to help people escape from self-destructive behavior and become the people they want to be.
Simon, the Pharisee, misses this point entirely when he questions the woman's apparent "waste" of the jar of ointment. Perfume, then as now, could be very expensive. While it was a good idea for the woman to change her occupation, why did she have to use the perfume on the feet of Jesus?
Christ himself explains the woman's extraordinary gesture. Of course, the perfume could have been sold and the money given to the poor. In many cases, when a person wants to show gratitude, giving money to charity would be appropriate.
Suppose you do a big favor for a friend. While you would probably be embarrassed if the friend bought you a hugely expensive gift in return. But you wouldn't be displeased if the friend wrote a big check for medical research in thanksgiving for what you had done.
Yet Christ's acceptance of the woman — sins and all — was a very large favor. For Christ was more than an agent of God's charity — as you or I are when we try to help people who want to fix up their lives.
Jesus was love incarnate: Christ embodied the divine compassion. Through him, the supposedly "fallen" woman was lifted up to God. As he said to her, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
But what about those of us who aren't flagrant sinners in the eyes of society? How do we fit into the picture? Simon the Pharisee couldn't think of anything he had done that could equal the woman's behavior. Did that mean he couldn't receive the same blessings the woman had been given? Are only those who are forgiven for scandalous sins able to feel close to God?
St. Paul in a rare moment of irony asks whether perhaps Christians should sin more. Because if they sinned more, they would get more of God's forgiving grace.
Of course, God doesn't work this way. We don't have to sin to get God's attention!
In fact, the final point of the story is this: the respectable Pharisee is welcomed into the Kingdom along with the unrespectable woman. He needn't envy the woman her immense gratitude. God accepts him, too, as he is. Simon has fewer public faults, perhaps, but, still, he is accepted in all the ways he has fallen short of the person he might be.
Christ's offer goes for him, too — just as it goes for us: "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
And now unto that same God Father, Son, and Holy Spirit be ascribed as is most justly due all might, majesty, power, dominion and praise, now and forever, Amen.