Lent. A Season of self-examination. A time to look into the mirror, as it were, to see yourself as you really are. In this rather long blog I want us to look at two stories from St. Luke. Both involve dinners to which Jesus was invited. Similar in a way, and at the same time very different.
For each I will give you a bit of set-up.Then three suggestions for reflection.
At the end I will give you a further thought concerning these stories, and another story St. Luke told.
I invite you to let these texts be mirrors. Which is to say, look for yourself in the stories: for who you think you are, and for whom you hope you are not.
And look for Jesus, of course, who wherever he is, and even here, we believe, today, always seems to attract both the righteous, and the unrighteous; the put-together, and the broken; humble sinners and… the indignantly faithful.
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The first story begins with an
unexpected call; the second with an
unexpected invitation.
In the first story, the dinner at Levi’s
house, the primary actors are Jesus, Levi (a tax collector) and his tax
collecting friends; the Pharisees, and their legal advisers, the scribes.
Tax collectors were Roman collaborators,
carpet baggers and scalawags, traitors to their own people. These guys are the
Mafia, backed by Roman muscle… and Jesus calls one of them to be his disciple.
Levi in turn calls-over all his rowdy friends, as it were: celebrates with other tax collectors and sinners the welcome and summons he has received from Jesus.
Jesus also attends, which is no surprise to us, but it surely scandalized the Pharisees and scribes who were… watching from a distance, I guess, but close enough to see, and to fuss at the disciples, and to reprimand Jesus…
Already they don’t like how Jesus is not teaching appropriate respect for Sabbath; how he claims to forgive sins; how he is not reinforcing necessary cultural and religious identity markers (Sabbath-keeping, hand-washing) markers during the Roman occupation.
To their way of thinking—at least to our way of thinking—Jesus is not serious enough about sin, or resisting the empire, or making the nation great again.
Are they smug, or afraid, in their indignant self-righteousness? Either way, they seem to know who they are by whom they would not welcome to the table. Exclusion is the root and fruit of their religion. At least that is the way we see them now.
And we ourselves have seen folk like this, have we not? In our own day.
I just got back from St. Louis, where outside the
great convention center where United Methodist factions battled to their virtual
and humiliating self-destruction: I witnessed up close the sign-carrying
ministrations of Westboro Baptist Church. I also saw people inside who were just as judgmental, just as smug and indignant, just as afraid, one way or the other.
(For another contemporary expression of the Pharisees' self-righteous and exclusionary pique, see the reaction of some commentators to Lauren Daigle appearing on the Ellen DeGeneres Show: https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2018/12/let-lauren-daigle-be-unsure-about-lgbt-relationships/577651/)
Back in Luke, in that first story: that evening at Levi’s dinner party, the Pharisees and their legal advisors, the scribes, are horrified that Jesus would call a tax collector to be his disciple. That Jesus would eat with sinners. But who is the sinner? Who is the righteous?
27 After (Jesus
healed the paralytic on the mat) he went out and saw a tax collector named
Levi, sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, “Follow me.” 28 And
he got up, left everything, and followed him. 29 Then Levi gave
a great banquet for him in his house; and there was a large crowd of tax
collectors and others sitting at the table with them. 30 The
Pharisees and their scribes were complaining to his disciples, saying, “Why do
you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” 31 Jesus
answered, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are
sick; 32 I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to
repentance.”
Prompts:
In what
ways do you identify with Levi and his guests?
In what
ways do you identify with the Pharisees and their scribes?
Is there
any way in which you identify with Jesus?
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The second story begins when one of the Pharisees, Simon by name, invites Jesus to an outdoor dinner party. Probably on a big back patio, behind Simon’s house.
And a surprise, I think, that Simon invited Jesus to dinner at all, given the company Jesus keeps—which company could have made Jesus and everyone else at Simon’s party, ritually unclean.
Surprising, too, because some of the Pharisees already have reservations, at least, about
Jesus’ teachings; questions about the
style and substance of his ministry, grave concerns
about his disregard of cultural and religious identifiers. Do you consider it a surprise that Jesus seems as willing to eat with Simon and his friends as he was to eat with Levi and his friends?
Would you go to a dinner party with one of the sign-carriers from Westboro Baptist Church?
If not, why not?
So, good for Simon that he invited Jesus. Good for Jesus that he went.
It appears, though, as if Simon seats Jesus at the lower tables, a good ways from the head table, but still close enough that Simon can see, can keep tabs, the way generous hosts are always checking on their guests.
Only, not like that, either. Simon is not so much tending to his guests as holding court, making notes. Nothing very gracious about his welcome. No water. No oil. No kiss.
He may have been playing a game. It may have been a power play:
By inviting the upstart rabbi, perhaps Simon is hoping to demonstrate that he is not threatened by the populist preacher. Is he asserting dominance, marking his territory, as it were, by inviting him, but not letting him too close?
Jesus finds himself close to the edges of the patio—where the uninvited would gather ‘round to watch the party—much as we read People magazine, or keep up with the Kardashians: we all enjoy the warmth of reflected celebrity. Gives us enhanced identity.
You know the story. The scandalous demonstration
by the woman. The indignant incredulity of Simon… if this man really were a
prophet… the parable that Jesus uses to expose Simon… nicely played, Jesus… and
the joy of forgiveness.
36 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. 37 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. 38 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. 39 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.” 40 Jesus spoke up and said
to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he replied,
“speak.” 41 “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five
hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he canceled
the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” 43 Simon
answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” And Jesus
said to him, “You have judged rightly.” 44 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. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the
time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. 46 You did
not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 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.” 48 Then
he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” 49 But those who were
at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even
forgives sins?” 50 And he said to the woman, “Your faith has
saved you; go in peace.”
Prompt:
So, who do you want to be like in this
story?
Who are you most like in this story?
What do you make of Jesus’ comments in
both of these stories?
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Afterthought:
another story, same lesson: Jesus tells a story about a Pharisee and a Tax
Collector, this time gone up to the Temple. The Pharisee says, “Lord, I thank you that I am not like the Publican.”
The Publican says, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
When I read that story I say, “Lord, I thank you I am not like the Pharisee: judgmental, condescending, exclusionary…”, I prove that I am a Pharisee.
In St. Louis, when I said, “Lord I think you I am not judgmental like the folk from WBC,” which only proved I was every bit as judgmental as the folk from WBC.
When we judge people’s judgmentalism… exclude them for excluding... exclude them for including... when we wish everyone were as enlightened as we are…
When we, too, only guardedly welcome those about whom we have our suspicions…
When, as we read the stories, we see ourselves as the heroes, or as Jesus… the mirror of scripture reveals we are the Pharisees.
As James Sanders famously said, if we read the Scripture and congratulate ourselves, we can be sure we have read it wrong.
Prayer of Confession
The Lord be with you.
And also with you.
Let us pray:
Grant
us to see our self-righteousness, O God, in those moments when we condemn the
self-righteousness of others.
Lord
in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Grant
us to confess and repent of our own pride, before we ever decry the pride of
others.
Lord
in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Grant us to judge ourselves according to your Word, before we use your Word to judge others.
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Bring us to remembrance of our sins, before we ponder the sins of others.
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Then, in your mercy, forgive us. Free us to forgive others, and to believe in your perfect grace for all your imperfect children.
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
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