A Sermon

For some reason, I woke up with this sermon on my mind. It was one of my early ones--I think I actually wrote it for preaching class. I also preached it twice...once at at CTS chapel service, and once at Henry Memorial Presbyterian Church in Dublin, the church where my parents were longtime members, and where I grew up. At any rate, the Spirit speaks to me most clearly in the early morning hours, so my posting it here is a Spirit thing.

A Place at the Table

My mom is an amazing woman. She’s one of those people who can make friends with anyone and maintain friendships over decades. She never meets a stranger, and will go out of her way to be friendly and hospitable to everyone. She was the one at our church who would invite the first-time visitors to have lunch with us after worship, not having a clue what we were having or if there would be enough. It was always good, and there always was enough. And most of the time, those spur-of-the-moment invitations blossomed into beautiful friendships and secured wonderful new members for our oftentimes struggling little church.

I grew up the youngest of four children in Dublin, GA, a small town just a couple of hours from here. When I was four years old, my oldest brother went off to college, followed two years later by my other brother Hunter, then another three years later by my sister Calli. My brothers were, as they say, “products of the sixties.” I remember that my oldest brother Tom’s preferred mode of transportation in the early seventies was hitchhiking. Oftentimes we’d never know exactly when to expect him home because it would all depend on whether or not he was able to get rides. And naturally, when he was traveling in his own or another’s car, he would often stop to pick UP hitchhikers. So it wasn’t unusual, when he was traveling home, for him to show up with an extra buddy whom he had picked up and made friends with along the way. My mom would make that extra place at the table, find a place in our house for our guest to sleep, serve our guest breakfast, then see that the “stranger” got out to the interstate for his next day’s ride. Amazing, when you think about it. Yes, it was a different world then, but nevertheless, when I think back on it, I’m amazed that my parents allowed it.

Today’s text is a lesson in hospitality and otherness. Listen as we hear God’s word as found in Luke 7:36-50

One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, ‘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.’

Jesus spoke up and said to him, ‘Simon, I have something to say to you.’

Teacher,’ he replied, ‘Speak.’

A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’

Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.’

And Jesus said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’ Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’

Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’

But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’

And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’

(end text)

When I skimmed this text initially as our assignments were given out, I thought…Oh, the anointing at Bethany. I mulled on my knowledge of that story for a week or so, then sat down later to read it more carefully. I realized then that it wasn’t exactly the same story that I remembered, so I looked it up in the NT synopsis and realized that it, indeed, is placed parallel with the anointing at Bethany stories found in Matthew, Mark, and John. There’s much discussion surrounding this text…partially because of the similarities and differences it has with the other “parallel” texts in the other three gospels. While most scholars agree that they are from the same source, Luke’s version has a totally different feel to it—a different emphasis. I invite you to take a closer look with me.

Simon the Pharisee has invited Jesus to dinner. We don’t know why… perhaps it was a genuine invitation with no ulterior motive. Perhaps he was curious to find out more about Jesus. Perhaps he wanted to rub elbows with the man who is beginning to cause such a stir throughout the region. Whatever the motivation, Simon makes room at his table for this man called Jesus.

Jesus accepts, and while they are dining a woman from the city, from the streets…a SINNER, came in. Now this was not all THAT unusual in the day…the poor would occasionally pander for food at dinner parties since private dinners were actually quite public. But this was much more than that. This woman was clearly overcome with emotion.

Simon and his guests, including Jesus, were probably reclined for dinner, probably propped up on an elbow, lying on their sides as was the custom in those days. His feet are exposed, and this woman walks in, this woman “from the city,” and begins to cry on his feet and dry them with her hair.

We can’t really blame Simon for being a tad bit upset. Can you imagine? It’s no wonder that the meal was disrupted. Her actions were obviously quite embarrassing to Simon—they could have easily been mistaken for sexual advances.

Simon, the host, was obviously flustered. He said to himself “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.” It is quite clear, by Simon’s behavior, that he is embarrassed and uncomfortable with the woman’s presence and behavior.

Jesus picks up on Simon’s discomfort even though Simon never voices it aloud. A couple of the commentaries made a big deal over the fact that Jesus “read Simon’s mind and therefore indeed must be a prophet.” But come on now…how difficult would that body language be to read?

Jesus then shares with Simon a parable about a moneylender and two debtors, one who owes a great deal and one who only owes a small sum. The lender, upon realizing that neither could pay his debt, canceled them both. Then Jesus asks Simon “Which of the debtors will love more?” Simon replies “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” “You have judged rightly” says Jesus.

Consider Simon the Pharisee. He is a law-abiding man, no doubt an upstanding citizen in his community. He sets his table and invites his guests. Jesus comes and Simon doesn’t even bother to show him the hospitality common to the day…a washing and anointing of his feet, or a kiss of greeting.

The problem with Simon lies deeper than his lack of hospitality. The problem lies in Simon’s ATTITUDE. Simon the Pharisee views himself as a blameless man. Simon has no clue of his need for forgiveness, and therefore no appreciation for the forgiveness available through Christ, and therefore, little ability to show love. In Jesus’ parable, Simon is the debtor who “owes little”—he loves less because he fails to recognize the magnitude of forgiveness he needs.

Now consider the woman, the sinner. She is a woman of the city—a suggestion that her sins are sexual. Regardless of her sins, however, we she knows that she has been forgiven. Her gratitude for that forgiveness propels her to show Jesus all the hospitality that Simon neglected to show him. She cleaned his feet from the day’s travel, she kissed not just him but his feet—a sign of gratitude for her pardon-- and then she anointed his feet with oil.

Jesus holds up this sinful woman as the model of hospitality for Simon. Shame on you, Simon, for not doing at least as much for me, your guest. As we have seen, though, it is Simon’s failure to recognize his need for forgiveness that keeps him from being able to show love to both Christ and the woman from the streets.

One’s capacity to love is directly related to one’s ability to receive grace and forgiveness.

Simon the Pharisee has set a table. And who is at Simon’s table? Jesus is there. There is a place for him there, but that’s not all that surprising. Jesus was himself a law-abiding Jew, some say even a Pharisee. And Jesus was never one to pass up a meal. Christ was known for dining with anyone…from his loyal disciples to the well-known sinners…anyone.

Chances are there are others there as well…other men…Pharisees and religious leaders. Who else might be there? I’m not sure, but there were definite boundaries and a fixed number of invited guests at Simon’s table, for Simon, the one to whom little is forgiven, loved little.

Simon has set a table. So have we. Who is at our table? One scholar said “unless we see something of ourselves in the character of Simon the Pharisee, we are so blind to our own need that we have failed to hear the story.” But wait…surely we are not as discriminating as Simon. The tables we prepare today have room for many more. Not necessarily or always physical room but symbolic room.

Our guest lists are much more diverse than Simon’s was…or are they? Close your eyes and picture it. Who is at your table? Picture all the guests you have had at your table throughout your life. Hold that image in your mind’s eye. Your family, your friends, perhaps those with whom you have things in common? Think about those who sit at your table, then answer this question: Is Christ at your table? Is he there as an invited guest, or did he just happen to show up? What about that person who offended you just last week, or that person with whom you disagree about some current hot topic?

Jesus said “Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me.”

Again I ask…who is at your table?

Simon has set a table. We have set a table. Christ has set a table. Who, then, is invited to dine at Christ’s table? Close your eyes and picture it. Or let your eyes drift to or picture the communion table. What is different about it? Lots, yes, but what is the one, obvious physical difference? There are no chairs!!! There are none, for when we set a table with chairs, we are limited as to the number of guests we might seat. Christ’s table is one at which we can all crowd around, regardless of the number of our sins. This table, the table of holy communion, God’s table… has an infinite number of places around it.

As I was preparing for today’s sermon, I remembered a book that my mother recommended to me called “A Place at the Table.” I couldn’t remember the author, so I went to Amazon.com and was not really surprised to find several books with the exact or a similar title. There were books with similar titles that had to do with women’s rights, gay rights, civil rights, the rights of the mentally / physically challenged…each lobbying, if you will, for a spirit of welcome for all God’s children, not just those who meet certain criteria. Each author, in his or her own way, reminds us that not ONE of us deserves a place at Christ’s table. We have all fallen short of God’s grace, just as Simon had, just as the woman had. Jesus said to Simon “Her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.” The good news is that, though we have all fallen short of God’s grace, we are loved and we are forgiven. Hence…therefore…for this reason…and so…WE are to show great love…to all God’s children.

The great 13th century Eastern mystic and poet Rumi wrote: "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing , there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense."

For Christians, that field is the Lord's Table, where we meet today for this simple meal. It has been prepared, and it is ready and waiting for us

That marks the end of the sermon. But as I re-read it for the umpteenth time, I began to think anew about that field of Rumi's. I wonder if that is what "heaven," or "the other side," or "paradise," or whatever you wish to call it is like. If so, I think Mom will feel right at home there, don't you?