SERMON PREACHED BY
THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR
CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH,
PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
ON THE THIRD SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
17 JUNE 2007
 
 
"Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love." (Luke 7:47)
 
 
The centerpiece, the focus of this morning's gospel is an unnamed woman (this story appears in all four Gospel accounts, and in the Fourth Gospel, she is called Mary). There is not much by way of description about her, except to say that she is a sinner. But her being described as "a woman in the city" sounds to us very much like "woman of the streets" or "woman of the night," both euphemistic ways of saying that she was a prostitute.
 
Prostitute or not, her behavior in the Pharisee's house was nothing short of scandalous. You will remember that in First Corinthians Paul issued his so-called millinery edict, insisting that women cover their heads. This wasn't because he had a soft spot in his heart for hat-makers; it was because a woman's hair was considered sexually provocative, and therefore had to be covered. It is not for nothing that the phrase "letting one's hair down" means throwing caution to the wind. Imagine the horror when this disreputable woman not only let her hair down, literally and figuratively, but used her tresses as a towel to wipe her tears from Jesus' feet ---- and if that weren't enough, poured untold quantities of precious oil on his feet, kissing them all the while. By the time we get to the end of the story, there is a standard formula applied. Jesus declares that this extraordinary act was an outward and visible sign of her faith, which earned her forgiveness, and we hear the familiar words, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
 
But between the woman's shocking behavior and Jesus' absolution, the focus of the story is not on the woman, but her host, Simon the Pharisee. And I'd like us to think about him for a moment. Listen to what he says to himself --- and judging from what Jesus said later, no doubt he read Simon's mind: "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." So in one fell self-righteous swoop, he condemns the woman and raises serious doubts about Jesus' authenticity.
 
The point is that both Simon and Jesus correctly assessed the woman. Simon called her a sinner. The woman knew she was a sinner, and Jesus knew that she was a sinner and knew that she knew she was a sinner. The difference is that Simon used her sinful status as grounds for exclusion, but for Jesus, the acknowledgement of her sinfulness made her worthy of acceptance into the community. If we read between the lines, we see that Luke paints a picture of sharp contrast between these two characters. Whereas the woman's heart is broken and open, Simon's heart is impenetrable and hard. Where her love was extravagant, Simon's is stingy. The woman from the city understands intuitively her need for grace, but Simon believed that he was not in need of grace at all. But the most striking difference between the two is that whereas the woman knew she was a sinner, Simon had no clue that he was in the same boat, and just as much in need of Jesus' forgiveness, if not more!
 
The truth of the matter is that there is a correlation between Simon's self-righteous attitude and his inability to love. He believed he didn't have to show love because he had little if anything to be forgiven for. He could believe this because he was too obtuse that Jesus had forgiven him for his judgmental attitude, his exclusion of "outsiders," his utter disdain for the poor, and his marginalization of the oppressed --- to name a few transgressions. Simon holds the patent for holier-than-thou-ness.
 
One way to read Scriptures is to play a little game. Read a Gospel story and then ask yourself "With whom in the story do you identify?" Most of us are too self-respecting (or would like to appear to be) to identify with the woman who made a public spectacle of herself. Most of us are not presumptuous enough to identify with Jesus. So that leaves Simon the Pharisee. Who among is has not been self-righteous? Who among us has not assumed a holier-than-thou posture? Who among us has not deemed others to be unfit for fellowship --- in our community, our church, or even our family?
 
As a matter of fact, I think that self-righteousness and holier-than-thou-ness has everything to do with what I call "the recent unpleasantness." Everywhere I turn, one group has deemed another to be unfit for association. And it's not all about sexual orientation at all. Many who rallied under that banner now discover that they don't agree who else should be excluded, like women priests, for example. Still others find that they have no unanimity about the status of those who have been married and divorced. And then there's the Christological debate ---- some groups claiming that our Presiding Bishop is misguided about the nature and role of Jesus, and therefore is not fit to be a church leader. I am no mathematician, so I'll leave it to others to figure out just how many variations or sub-sets exist. All I can say is that we need a scorecard to keep up with the splits, divisions, and bifurcations taking place literally on a weekly basis. And it is all in the futile pursuit of orthodox purity --- or otherwise put, an attempt to establish a sinless church. Has no one read the first Letter to John (1:8)? "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us."
 
A preacher once suggested that every sermon should begin like an A.A. meeting, with the preacher beginning by saying "Hello, my name is Harold, and I am a sinner," with the congregation responding in kind. This would perhaps put things in perspective, reminding us, as St Paul admonishes us, that we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God [Romans 3:23]. An old revival hymn puts it this way:
It's me, it's me, it's me, O Lord, standing in the need of prayer.
Not my brother, not my sister, but it's me, O Lord,
Standing in the need of prayer.
Amen.