Printer Friendly VersionSimon, the Pharisee, knew a good thing when he saw it. A famous
healer and teacher was visiting town. Simon invited Him to come and eat, “My
house is always open to everyone.” Simon’s table was the center
of action in town. All sorts of people knew of Simon’s hospitality and
took advantage of it whenever they could. It was the least he could do, and
it did no harm to his business either. After all, a tradesman like Simon needed
to maintain good relations with locals and travelers alike.
As soon as the teacher opened his mouth, Simon knew how to react.
Ah, another Galilean on his way to better places, he thought. Those people
don’t know to stay in their own county. Why do they insist on this route
to Jerusalem? And look at His entourage. I saw them coming into town--twelve
men and in the rear a group of women! What kind of women would follow a vagabond
teacher and a Galilean at that? Don’t those people know to keep their
own company? Hillbillies! Look, they don’t even wash their hands before
they go into the public inn. Unclean, unclean!
“Please come recline at the table and rest yourself,”
Simon invited Jesus. Simon reclined on the other side of the table and motioned
for his wife and the other servants to begin spreading the food. His table
always had the finest olives, figs, pomegranates, bread, a well-cooked goat,
lamb, even some strong coffee, and a cup of wine for his guests. After a long
dusty walk the cool house and the smells of the kitchen were too much to resist.
They all began the feast and Simon smiled at his success.
What’s this? That woman again! I thought I told my people
to keep her away. She is always hanging about and taking advantage of my table.
Simon signaled to his wife to get rid of the woman as she bowed to him, but
it was too late. She ignored him and headed back to the cooking area. The
woman approached the Teacher. She doesn’t even have her hair covered!
The harlot. The sinner. No self-respecting woman would think of appearing
in such a bold way.
But what’s this, she is pulling her hair to the front
and she is pouring oil on the teacher’s feet. Oh, the waste of good
oil. Now she is wiping his feet with her hair and massaging the oil into his
feet. If he is such a good teacher, wouldn’t he know she is scum?
"Simon, I have something to say to you," Jesus said
after studying Simon’s face. The room became deadly quiet. Everyone
froze in place. Ah, that terrible Galilean twang. How I hate the sound.
"Teacher, speak," he replied. "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 sputtered, "I . . . I suppose the one for whom he
canceled the greater debt."
"You have judged rightly." The Teacher smiled.
What is this a trick question? Where is He going with this?
Why has everyone stopped? Don’t they know their places? Simon spread
his hands to clap them and to get attention redirected to himself.
The Teacher reached out and touched the woman’s head.
Doesn’t he know this woman is . . . unclean?
On a prominent street near where I live, I saw a homeless man
every morning rolling his bedroll and stacking it with his other overnight
items in a grocery cart. He propped himself against the brick at the top of
a flight of stairs in the front of a large church. For about a year and a
half I saw the same routine as I drove past. A few weeks ago, I went down
the same street. I noticed the church had a new black wrought iron fence around
the property. The homeless man was gone.
A young man with a prosthetic leg walking down the street suddenly
dives into a doorway and sinks to his knee. He is sweating heavily and his
breath comes in gulps. He peeks around the edge of the door expecting a bomb
blast at any second. He stands and looks again. It is all he can do to move
from the place of safety. He walks the opposite way quickly and disappears
into a bar and orders a double scotch, and then asks the barkeep to change
the TV channel from the news of the war in Iraq.
A teenaged girl rings the door bell of a church office and through
the intercom asks to talk to the “man-in-charge.” The secretary
asks the nature of her business. “I just need to talk to someone.”
The buzzer releases the door lock and she enters the office. A few moments
later she tells the female pastor she was raped two months ago, and she thinks
she is pregnant. She pleads for the pastor to not tell her parents and not
report it to the police. She had sex as a way to join a gang at her school.
If her parents find out, they will throw her out and she will have no place
to go.
A bank manager calls a meeting of his staff and for the first
time meets the new loan officer. She is single and attractive. After the meeting,
he learns she is from another state and lives alone. The next Friday after
work the staff goes to a local restaurant bar for “happy hour.”
He finds a way to talk with her and makes sure her wine glass in always full.
She tells him she needs a ride home as she has had too much to drink. He volunteers
and on the way to her apartment he puts his hand on her knee and smiles. She
doesn’t know what to do. He thinks it will be an affair to remember.
Jesus says, “Simon, see this woman? No, I mean look at
her. Really look at her. What has she done? She has become the real host of
this house.”
What are you talking about Teacher? This is my house and I am
the host. I spread the meal for all to eat. I am the one who is the expression
of hospitality in this town. This is my town. Do you hear? What is this he’s
talking again! Such muttering and to me, a true follower of God.
“Yes, Simon. Her! When I came at your invitation, you
asked me to sit. But you did not give me the kiss of peace as is our custom.
You did not see my hands could be washed so I could be ritually clean. You
did not see my feet could be washed keeping the road dirt from your house
and easing the road weary. You did not anoint my head with oil, our signal
of deepest respect for the sojourner. These simple things are a fundamental
part of common hospitality.
But she condescended to be a servant and kissed my feet. She
washed them with her tears, and tears she has aplenty for her sins were many.
She wiped my feet with the crown God has given her, her beautiful hair to
be seen only by her husband. She allowed us all to see her natural beauty,
and she was not ashamed for she knows who I am. She anointed not my head,
but my sore feet with the finest oil. She gave her best possession to me.”
Holding the woman’s hands gently in his Jesus said, “Your
sins are forgiven. Go in peace and love.” A collective gasp was heard.
The woman moved away from him bowing and crying in gratitude as she left.
Can this one forgive sin? Blasphemy! thought Simon. A murmur
went up, “Who is this who claims that he can forgive sins!” Jesus
rose and looked at Simon, shook his head in pity and left the house.
Again Jesus broke the stereotype. He did not declare himself,
but used the situation to show compassion for a sinful person who had come
to him in faith, and at the same time to show the false front of the true
sinner, who would not confront his own sin.
Imagine the scene after Jesus left. Simon had been found out.
He was embarrassed by his false hospitality. He had offered only enough to
prove his superiority to the stranger. But he had picked on the wrong person.
The stranger was none other than the Son of God. Yes, everyone there was as
astonished as Simon, they watched and listened. Did they learn who Jesus was?
Did they accept who Jesus was? Did they take the next step and follow Him?
Maybe not, but you can bet they never were the same.
How about us? Are we the same after Jesus touches us? They saw
and heard Him and probably never forgot Him. We have felt Him deep in our
soul. Have we forgotten him? How do we act when we are confronted by Jesus?
The woman who bathed Jesus feet was not an upstanding citizen. She was a sinner.
Yet, she broke convention and appeared in Simon’s house.
What about the homeless one who wouldn’t go away? The
one who just needed a safe place to sleep, and what better place than the
front of a church. What about the former soldier who still sees ghosts who
are trying to kill him? He lives all around us. Maybe he isn’t an ex-soldier,
perhaps he is a teenager who wants to live long enough to grow to adulthood.
What about the young woman who desperately needs help with her pregnancy and
with her relationships at home and school? What about the young professional
who in loneliness becomes a victim of avarice and lust?
How are we to minister to all of these? Jesus calls us to be
disciples. Jesus calls us to demonstrate God’s grace, to minister to
the needs of His people--all people. Are we going to be like Simon and just
put on a false face and deny we have been in the presence of God? Or are we
going to be transformed, like the woman, and probably like the others in Simon’s
house.
Jesus left Simon to his own sins, but He doesn’t leave
us. His grace was bestowed on the woman--every woman and every man. He is
with us.
Do you recall the rest of the story? Look who is with Jesus.
Sure the twelve are there, but look who else--Mary, Joanna, Suzanna, and many
others. Luke tells us Jesus had many followers, and they were from all walks
of life--a former victim of demons, the wife of a person in the inner circle
of government, and faithful Suzanna.
Are we among the many others? If you are not, I invite you to
come closer to Jesus. You’ll note there are no qualifications. The steps
are easy. The journey is challenging as you will be walking away from the
crowd, but you will be walking with Jesus and the rest of his followers. You
won’t be alone; you’ll be among friends, new brothers and sisters,
in a new community of faith and love.
If you are one who is called to this journey, you need only to accept God’s gracious invitation and open yourself to be transformed
