One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to have dinner with him, so Jesus went
to his home and sat down to eat. When a
certain immoral woman from that city heard he was eating there, she brought a
beautiful alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume. Then she knelt behind him at his feet,
weeping. Her tears fell on his feet, and
she wiped them off with her hair. Then
she kept kissing his feet and putting perfume on them. When the Pharisee who
had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he
would know what kind of woman is touching him. (Luke 7:36-39)
Could two people have been any more different? He’s
looked up to; she’s looked down on. He’s a church leader; she’s a streetwalker.
He makes a living promoting standards; she’s made a living breaking them. He’s
hosting the party; she’s crashing it. And if you had asked the other residents
of Capernaum to point out the more pious of the two, they’d have picked Simon
in a heartbeat. After all, he’s a student of theology; a man of the cloth.
Anyone would’ve picked him – except Jesus.
Jesus knew them both, and Jesus picked the woman. What’s
more, he tells Simon why. Not that Simon really wanted to know “why” because his
mind was elsewhere. How did this floozy get
into my house? And he doesn’t know who to yell at first – the woman or the
servant who let her in. After all, this dinner is a formal affair, and by invitation
only. So, who let the riffraff in? Of course, it was customary in that
day for outsiders to hover around during banquets so they could watch the “pretty
people” and hear their conversation. And since everything was out in the open, they’d
even enter the banquet hall and speak to a guest since, in that day, women were
never invited to banquets.
Simon is just plain mad. Just look at her groveling at Jesus’ feet, and kissing them, no
less! Why, if Jesus was who he said he
is, he would have nothing to do with her. Of course, one of the lessons
Simon learned that day is don’t think thoughts you don’t want Jesus to hear. Because
Jesus heard them, and when he did, he chose to share a few words of his own. “Simon,”
he said to the Pharisee, “I have something to say to you.” “All right,
Teacher,” Simon replied, “go ahead,” probably thinking that Jesus was going to
pay him a huge compliment in front of the assembled high and mighty.
“A man loaned money to two people – five hundred
pieces of silver to one and fifty pieces to the other. But neither of them
could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do
you suppose loved him more after that?” ¶Simon answered, “I suppose the one for
whom he canceled the larger debt.” ¶“That’s right,” Jesus said. Then he turned to the woman and said to
Simon, “Look at this woman kneeling here. When I entered your home, you didn’t
offer me water to wash the dust from my feet, but she has washed them with her
tears and wiped them with her hair. You didn’t greet me with a kiss, but from
the time I first came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You neglected the
courtesy of olive oil to anoint my head, but she has anointed my feet with rare
perfume. I tell you, her sins – and they are many – have been forgiven, so she
has shown me much love. But a person who
is forgiven little shows only little love.”
(Luke 7:40-47)
Simon invites Jesus to his house, but treats him
like a leper. No customary courtesies; no kiss of greeting; no washing his feet;
no oil for his head. By today’s standards? No one opened the door for him, took
his coat, or even shook his hand. Frankenstein had better manners. Simon does
nothing to make Jesus feel welcome. The woman, on the other hand, does
everything that Simon didn’t. We aren’t told her name, just her reputation – a
sinner: a prostitute most likely. She
has no invitation to the party, and no standing in the community. It’d be like
a call girl showing up at the church Christmas party. But people’s opinions
didn’t stop her from coming, because it’s not for them that she came. It was
for Jesus. Her every move is measured and meaningful. Each gesture is
extravagant. She puts her cheek to his feet, still dusty from the path. She has
no water, but she has tears. She has no towel, but she has her hair. She uses
both to bathe the feet of Jesus. As one translation reads, “she rained tears”
on his feet.
She opens a vial of expensive perfume, perhaps her
only possession of worth (generally reserved for her dowry or her death), and
massages it into his skin. The aroma is
as inescapable as the irony. The vial was likely an alabaster (finely grained
gypsum) container with a long neck that had to be broken to pour out its content.
Now, you’d think Simon, of all people, would show such love. I mean, isn’t he
the pastor at the local church? A student of the Scriptures? But he’s harsh and distant. And you’d think
the woman would avoid Jesus. Isn’t she a woman of the night, the town hussy?
But she can’t resist him. Simon’s “love” is calibrated and stingy. Her love, on
the other hand, is extravagant and risky.
How do you explain the difference between the two?
Training? Education? Money? No, not
really, since Simon wins that competition hands-down. But there’s one area
where the woman leaves him eating the dust – literally. Think about it. What
one discovery has she made that Simon hasn’t? What one treasure does she
cherish that Simon doesn’t? God’s love.
We don’t know when she received it. We aren’t told
how she heard about it. Did she overhear Jesus’ words, “Your Father is merciful”?
(Luke 6:36) Or, did she hear Jesus say, “Come unto me … and I will give you
rest”? (Matt. 11:28-30) Did someone tell her how Jesus touched lepers and
turned tax collectors into disciples? We don’t know. But we know this. She came
starving. Starving from guilt. Starving from regret. Starving from countless
nights of making love and finding none. Simon, on the other hand, doesn’t even
know he’s hungry. People like Simon don’t need grace – they analyze it. They
don’t require mercy – they debate it. And it wasn’t that Simon couldn’t be
forgiven, he just never asked. “A person who is forgiven little shows only
little love.” In other words, we can’t give what we’ve never received. It’s
like trying to get blood out of a turnip. If we’ve never received love, how can
we love others?
Oh, we try. It’s as if we can conjure up love by our
sheer force of will. As if there is within us a distillery of affection that
lacks only a piece of wood, or a hotter fire. We poke it and stoke it with
resolve. Need proof? What’s our typical strategy for treating a troubled
relationship? We try harder. “I don’t care how much it hurts, I’m going to be
nice to that bum.” “Supposed to love my neighbor? Okay, by golly, I will.” So
we try. Teeth clenched. Jaw firm. We’re going to love if it kills us. And it
may do just that. But maybe we’re missing a step. Could it be that the first
step of love is not toward them but toward Him? Could it be that the secret to
loving is receiving? You give love by first receiving it. “We love, because He
first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)
Want to be more loving? Begin by accepting your
place as a dearly loved child. “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved
children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us.” (Eph. 5:1-2) Finding
it hard to put others first? Think of how Christ put you first: “Though he was
God, he did not think equality with God as something to cling to.” (Phil. 2:6) Need
more patience? Drink from the patience of God: “The Lord isn’t really
being slow about his promise, as some people think. No, he is being patient for
your sake. He does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants everyone to
repent.” (2 Pet. 3:9) Generosity an elusive
virtue? Then consider how generous God has been with you: “But God
showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were
still sinners.” (Rom. 5:8) Having trouble
putting up with ungrateful relatives, or cranky neighbors? God puts up with you
when you act the same way: “He is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.” (Luke
6:35) Can’t we love like this? Not without God’s help we can’t.
Oh, we may succeed for a time. We, like Simon, may
open a door. But our relationships need more than a social gesture. Some of our
friends may need a foot washing. Maybe a family member needs a flood of tears. Or,
our kids need to be covered in the oil of our love. But if we haven’t received
these things ourselves, how can we give them to others? A marriage-saving love
is not within us. A friendship-preserving devotion can’t be found in our hearts
because “(t)he heart is deceitful above all things.” (Jer. 17:9) We need help
from an outside source. A transfusion. Would we love as God loves? Then we
start by receiving God’s love.
We’re guilty of skipping that first step. “Love
each other!” we preach. “Be patient, kind, forgiving,” we urge. But instructing
people to love without telling them they are loved is like telling them to
write a check on a closed bank account. And that’s why so many relationships
are overdrawn: hearts have insufficient love. The apostle John models the right
sequence. He makes a deposit before he tells us to write the check. “God showed
how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we
might have eternal life through him. This is real love – not that we loved God,
but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” (1
John 4:9-10) And then, having made such an outrageous, eye-opening deposit,
John calls on us to pull out the checkbook: “Dear friends, since God loved us
that much, we surely ought to love each other.” (vs. 11)
The secret to loving, I believe, is living loved. This
is the forgotten first step in relationships. It’s kind of like taking down
your Christmas tree – which is my usual chore during the New Year’s holiday. You
know, remove the lights and ornaments, carry out the tree, take it to the local
disposal site, and sweep up the thousands of needles. The tree is falling
apart. Blame it on bad rooting because for a month or more the tree has been
planted in a plastic bowl. Not much good comes from a plastic bowl.
Old Simon had the same problem. Impressive to look
at, nicely decorated, but he falls apart when you give him a shove or two. Sound
familiar? Does bumping into certain types of people leave you brittle,
breakable and fruitless? Or, do you fall apart easily? If so, your love may be planted
in the wrong soil. It may be rooted in their love (which is fickle), or in your
own resolve to love (which is frail). John urges us to “rely on the love God
has for us.” (1 John 4:16) He alone is the power source. Many people tell us to
love but only God gives us the power to do so.
Several years ago, someone challenged me to
replace the word love in 1 Cor. 13 with my name. When I did, I became a liar. “Randy
is patient, Randy is kind. Randy does
not envy, Randy does not boast and Randy is not proud. Randy is not rude, Randy
is not self-seeking, Randy is not easily angered, Randy keeps no record of
wrongs. Randy does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Randy
always protects, Randy always trusts, Randy always hopes, Randy always perseveres.
Randy never fails.” (1 Cor. 13:4-8)
Those words are false. I don’t always persevere, and I most certainly fail. That’s
the problem. And for years that was my problem with this paragraph and,
frankly, with the whole chapter – it set a standard that I couldn’t meet. No
one can meet it. No one, that is, except Jesus. “Jesus is patient, Jesus is
kind. Jesus does not envy, Jesus does not boast, and Jesus is not proud. Jesus
is not rude, Jesus is not self-seeking, Jesus is not easily angered, and Jesus
keeps no record of wrongs. Jesus does not delight in evil but rejoices with the
truth. Jesus always protects, Jesus always trusts, Jesus always hopes, Jesus
always perseveres. Jesus never fails.” (Id.)
So, rather than letting this scripture remind us
of a love we cannot produce, let it remind us of a love we cannot avoid – God’s
love. And some of you may be starving for this kind of love. Those who should
have loved you, but didn’t. Those who could have loved, but wouldn’t. You were
left at the hospital. Left at the altar. Left with a broken heart. Left with a question:
“Does anybody love me?”
Listen to heaven’s answer. God loves you unavoidably.
Personally. Powerfully. Passionately. Others have promised and failed. But God
has promised and succeeded. He loves you with an unfailing love. And his love –
if you will let it – can fill you and leave you with a love worth giving.
Grace,
Randy
No comments:
Post a Comment