READING 1: Ephesians 4--portions
God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and tell it in love—like Christ in everything… And then take on an entirely new way of life—a God-fashioned life, a life renewed from the inside and working itself into your conduct as God accurately reproduces his character in you.
What this adds up to, then, is this: no more lies, no more pretense. Tell your neighbor the truth. In Christ's body we're all connected to each other, after all….Be gentle with one another, sensitive. Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ forgave you.
READING 2: Luke 7: 36ff
When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. 37 A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured 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 who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.” Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.” “Tell me, teacher,” he said. “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii,[c] and the other fifty. 42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.” “You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.
Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
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May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be accepted and loved into being by you, O God, our strength and our redeemer. Amen
As many of you know, I spent the last week on a rest and study week alone with God. I will try to spare you the “what I did on my summer vacation” speech, but I do want you to know that I both deeply needed and deeply appreciated the chance to get away. I didn’t go far; just far enough that I could resist the temptations to shut out God’s voice by keeping busy doing whatever caught my mind at the moment. There’s something about sitting in a chair by the side of a creek watching the fish jump in and out in the sunlight that just puts it all in perspective. I came away from last week with a deep gratitude for everything and everyone in my life. I came away with a deep sense of ‘rightness’ about allowing God to move Open Circle into her next phase. As much as I would like to tell you that God drew a picture in some blue sky and gave me an easy to read road map; that did not happen. What did happen was that God gave me peace—peace about trusting God and peace about trusting all of us to listen and respond to God’s voice calling us to increase our ministry in the world.
So today we come to a very beautiful story about Mary Magdalene. Mary Magdalene is a favorite of many of us—she has come to represent the “bad girl” turned righteous, and she lets all of us who have or had a wild side know that it’s never too late to seek forgiveness and “get right with God”. If however, we stop here, we have shortchanged Mary Magdalene herself and we have shortchanged ourselves. Perhaps we have even shortchanged God. Now, interestingly enough, scripture never tells us that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. That is an interpretation that comes down through time presumably because the early interpreters of the scripture thought that was the worst a woman could be. So, we think of her in sexual terms—but Jesus never tells us the nature of her sin.
At Simon’s invitation, Jesus goes to visit this prominent Pharisee. We don’t know why. Mary Magdalene has heard of his visit and takes an expensive perfume in an valuable jar to offer to Jesus. We’re not sure what she intended to do with this perfume—was it to be a gift, or did she intend to anoint him all along? Whatever the case, she finds herself standing behind Jesus. So close to him, can you feel her mixture of emotions, her awe, her worship? She is crying; crying so much that her tears serve as a fountain of water to wash Jesus’ feet. She doesn’t have a towel, but that doesn’t stop her, she simply uses her long hair to dry his feet. Not stopping to think, she is lost in her worship and pours the expensive perfume on his feet. Now, this was not a man who engaged in weekly pedicures; no, this was a man who walked long dusty roads in sandals at best, and barefoot at worst. This could not have been a pleasant task—Mary Magdalene doesn’t care—so lost in wonder that she cannot stop herself from this act of worship.
Simon is enraged—enraged that Jesus would let her touch him at all. Simon suggests, clearly showing his rigid, stick-to-the-rules take on religion, that if Jesus really was a prophet, he would have known the kind of woman she was and would have jerked his feet away in disgust. Jesus puts a stop to his anger—tells him that he, Simon, did nothing to show Jesus a welcome; while this woman, this so-called sinful woman, cannot stop herself from literally pouring out her praise. And then Jesus tells a story about forgiveness and, suddenly, Simon and we along with him, have a chance to understand. We don’t know the depth to which Simon truly understood, but what I think we must understand is this: that those who feel the farthest from God, the most cut-off from God’s people; when they are welcomed in, they have the most room for praise.
Now some of us react to being lumped in with Mary Magdalene, thinking of her more as a reformed sinner than a woman who had experienced so much of life that her heart was open to the goodness, the healing, the forgiveness, and the welcome of God through Jesus. And these are the folks Jesus calls us to welcome. I think that the more Mary Magdalenes we have, the more we grow into being the full body of Christ. The more we reach out to those who are rejected and hopeless, the greater our potential for compassion and love becomes. This last week, in preparing for this sermon, I prayed this prayer: “God, send to this church the very people wanted by no one else”. And I intend to pray this prayer every day for as long as I am your pastor. I hope and trust that you will pray this prayer with me. For most of us, at one time or another at least suspected that we were among those people, those people that no one else wanted. And look at us now—singing, praying, serving, ushering, preaching, loving, and joining hands as Church!
Enter now, Paul, speaking to the baby Christians in Ephesus: he says, this is what God wants for you—to grow up and know the whole truth and to pass it on with love. Be like Christ in everything you do which will require you to live an entirely new kind of life—a life that is renewed from the inside. This inside change overflows into the part that everyone sees and as you will become new people as God’s character becomes evident. Then he breaks it down—I love that about Paul—he never takes for granted that I am going to understand what he has said—so he sums it up like this: 1. Be who you are—no pretending to be something else. 2. Tell your neighbor the truth because we are all connected in Christ’s body. 3. Tell it gently; be sensitive to one another. 4. Forgive each other—quickly and thoroughly like God forgives you through Christ.
The ability to forgive is a great gift. We need it to be church. For we will hurt each other along the way. Even gently, with sensitivity, the truth sometimes hurts. The joy of loving each other into this new life—this life renewed from within, sends us running into the world to invite all the Marys (and Simons) still waiting to hear the good news of wholeness and inclusion to come to this place, to this Jesus. This may be the greater gift. What Mary felt for Jesus that day was so strong, so powerful that no one could have kept her away. Jesus loved her, he forgave her, he welcomed her. And while he said nothing to her until the very end of the story, she knew, she felt it, she saw it, she lived it. This is the work of the church—this is the work of this church.
We come on Sunday mornings and other times, with broken relationships, broken dreams, and, sometimes broken hearts. But Jesus is always here; here in the singing, the praying, the speaking, the silence. This Jesus who welcomed those who did not know how to love themselves or others, showed us time and time again, that the door is open to everyone. We do not know what sin Mary Magdalene was guilty of, perhaps it was sexual impropriety, or perhaps her sin was that she did not love herself enough as God’s child to cease her destructive behavior, what ever that behavior might be. Whatever the case, Jesus didn’t care. There was no allocution of the facts, in fact, there was no trial—just immediate and free forgiveness.
How simple is that? We have been given this great gift of having been forgiven. Forgiven of what? Doesn’t matter—for some, it may be the simple inability to see oneself as a Child of God; for others, sinful acts or thoughts counted as much worse may lie heavy on your heart. Loving each other in love into this great gift—including all who come on their own, as well as finding those too fearful, too beat down, too hopeless to come—this is our response to the gift we have been given.
Like Mary Magdalene, we worship a God who welcomes us all to the table—some needing much forgiveness, some needing little. Jesus tells us that those of us most hurt, most scarred, most bruised by sin and the sins of others have the most room for praise and thanksgiving. How else can we respond except by committing ourselves to the inclusion of all in our midst, in our community, in our world. God, we open the doors to those not wanted by anyone else, for when we were farthest away from you, you were closest to us. In love, you let us touch you, praise you, and thank you. And now, we go forth to love and serve our God. Amen and amen.
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