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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
17 June 2007Lk. 7“Other People's Sins”
In the Name of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Amen.
It is said that twins are able to read each other's minds. One twin knows when the other is worried about something — even if the two of them are many miles apart.
Twins, almost feel as if they share the same body. They have no trouble "empathizing" with each other; each can get a glimpse of what it's like to experience life the way the other one does.
To those of us who aren't twins, such intuitive understanding is a marvel. By contrast, we tend to be struck with how difficult it is to get inside the mind of another person. People can be so mysterious.
One of the most intriguing people in the Bible is the subject of the Gospel lesson we just heard. The person is described in the lesson as "a woman in the city, who was a sinner."
This female sinner learns that Jesus is dining with a respectable Pharisee. So she comes to the Pharisee's home and walks in, carrying a jar of expensive perfume, and weeping for what she has done in her past life.
Then she proceeds to wash Christ's feet with her tears; she dries his feet with her hair; and she anoints them with the perfume she has brought.
Because of the woman's past, the proper Pharisee is scandalized. But Jesus tells the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
Tradition has identified this woman with another biblical character, Mary Magdalene. Most scholars today reject this link, however; they say that we don't know the woman's name.
Nor can we be sure of the precise nature of the sin that Jesus was forgiving. Tradition said the woman was a prostitute; modern scholars admit the possibility that this tradition is correct because the woman wore her hair down. Respectable women in the Middle East wouldn't have done that at that time; for that matter, as we know, there are countries in the Middle East to this day which have laws requiring women's hair to be covered.
Yet the most mysterious fact about the woman is not her name or her occupation but what was going through her mind. What was she thinking when she burst into the dinner party?
Washing someone else's feet was a dramatic act of humility — it would be today. But back then, it was an even more generous gesture, when streets were often unpaved and people wore sandals instead of shoes. The flowing tears and the expensive perfume made the foot-washing an act of worship as well as penitence.
Yet if we don't know what was going through the woman's mind — and, in the story, she doesn't say a single word to enlighten us! — still, we do know what the Pharisee who hosted the dinner thought. For him, it was clear that the woman was sorry for what was for her a great sin, and she believed that Jesus could grant the forgiveness that her soul longed for.
Now it's just a coincidence that we are reading this lesson on Father's Day. This secular holiday happens to occur on the same day that the lesson about the women and the perfume is assigned to be read in Episcopal churches. This coincidence, though, may prompt some reflections about fathers.
For in our culture, as we know Father's Day gets less attention than Mother's Day — there are fewer long-distance calls, fewer gifts, fewer trips to restaurants. And I think there's a reason this day is celebrated at a lower level.
It's not because fathers are major sinners like the woman with the perfume! I wouldn't want to say that fathers are less worthy of thanks than mothers.
But I do think that , in general, fathers aren't as aware as mothers are when they let their children down. No parent is perfect, but male parents often seem to be less conscious of their imperfections.
The stereotype of the father who works long hours and is often absent sadly still has some validity. The stereotype of the male who is less sensitive than the female and who therefore is unkind to his children without knowing it — this image, too, unfortunately seems accurate in many cases.
Now one reason I can say these things is that I am a father. I know something about what being a father feels like and the struggles fathers deal with.
I recognize, though, that even with my personal experience of fatherhood, I can hardly understand what is happening within the hearts and souls of all the other men who have children!
I might have a better intuition of how they see things than I would have of the woman who washed Christ's feet. But still, as far as another person and their sins are concerned — I'm always going to be on the outside, looking in. Only to God are all hearts open, and all desires known.
This explains in a way the harsh reaction of the Pharisee in the Gospel story. He is appalled that the woman with the bad reputation is even in his house, much less that she is making a fuss over his honored guest. He wishes Jesus would just send her off so they could continue with the dinner.
How do women get caught in the trap of prostitution? Why do fathers so often fail to be good fathers? How hard it is to understand other people's sins.
On the other hand, it is easy to understand why Jesus forgave the woman. Is there any doubt that she knows her need for God's forgiveness?
So, too, while the Pharisee's outrage is comprehensible, it is also inexcusable. The Pharisee would be better off recognizing his own, less spectacular sins than demonizing a sad woman who wants to put her past behind her.
How easy it is to condemn someone without realizing it. How easy it is to assume that a person can avoid self-destructive behavior just because we wouldn't be tempted to commit the particular sin they have fallen prey to.
Like the Pharisee, we have feelings of superiority toward celebrities who alternate outrageous behavior with trips to rehab, and we demonize politicians who fail to deliver on their promises.
And not only are we, like the Pharisee, sometimes unfair in our judgments — putting down people who are trying to do better, but instead of judging others, we, too, ought to be judging ourselves.
That's the real point of the Gospel story. For most of us, the danger is not falling into the public sin of the woman with the long hair. The danger that threatens us is ending up like the prudish Pharisee.
Like him, we forget how far we have fallen short of the glory of God.
But if the danger is that we will imitate the Pharisee, the promise is that we may receive the same gift as the woman received after she washed Christ's feet with her tears. We, too, can be restored and healed by God's graceÐChrist can say to 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.