Pentecost VI                                              The Rev'd David C. Cobb

II Samuel 11; Galatians 2;                           June 17, 2007

Luke 7                                                       Solemn Mass

And looking at the woman, Jesus said to Simon, "Do you see this woman?"  

Well, actually we might have been a bit distracted before we got to the Gospel.  The First Lesson is enough to set our teeth on edge and leave us puzzling over how we deal with a God who will strike an innocent new born for the sins of the Father. Whatever else we may gain from this story of David and Bathsheba, of Nathan and his parables-it all slips away as we struggle with the idea that God would use a child's life as an object lesson.   

Here is one of the points where nothing is as helpful as scripture-when scripture itself is, to be blunt, offensive.  We are not the first generation to read this sort of an account and be appalled.  Sometime well before our consciousness was raised, a prophet in Israel took up this problem.  From Ezekiel, "What do you mean by repeating this proverb,  'The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children's teeth are set on edge?' As I live, says the Lord God, this proverb shall no more be used... all souls are mine, the soul of the father as well as the soul of the son.. the soul that sins shall die."    When an infant falls sick and dies-there may be blame to assign or maybe its just the frailty of human nature.  Parents and the community around them may learn something from the tragedy-but that does not require us to think that God would aim the lightening bolt of my sins at an innocent by-stander.   

Who gets punished is an important question-and who suffers the effects of sins and wickedness and folly is as well.  If we simply left it that Nathan knew the infant was not healthy would not live, without the added line that the Lord struck the child, this would be a sufficiently appalling story. David's sin had already caused death-he used treachery to set up a honorable and effective general, and with him, more than a few nameless foot soldiers as well, you would assume.  The discord, jealousy and ambition that flow through David's reign lead to many, many more deaths in his own household and in his kingdom.  We'll stand with Ezekiel on the question of God's justice, but the effects of war for frivolous and deceptive causes is death for infants and honest husbands, soldiers whose names are forgotten, peasant villagers, princes of the royal family and more beside. Kings and rulers spread the results of their sins broadly, So, without taking Nathan's final words as Gospel-listen to the way he makes David see.  Mendacity and lust, greed and violence some how all seem reasonable in terms of power, for kings it is different, some would think.  But a simple story of two people, two neighbors. That goes to the heart.  And the prophet's parable catches the King and makes him see.  Justice and righteousness is not just for the bucolic village of his childhood, it is for the halls of power and the exercise of monarchy.  Clever, we can excuse things in ourselves, hopefully, some prophet can tell us a story and help us see clearly.   

It is a woman that Jesus asks us to see.  And Simon is certain he knows the score here.  He had here number before she was half way across the room.  So did we.  A sinner and a woman, so we quickly assume a prostitute. Perhaps. Woman left with no support or options will often be forced into choices they would not otherwise make.  But women, like men have other means of sinning as well. Perhaps she was a woman of means - who was mean about it.  Haughty to servants, full of gossip and ready to destroy another's reputation. Maybe she collaborated with the occupying Romans-that was the sin of many of the tax collectors Jesus welcomed. Maybe she was negligent in keeping the intricate laws and customs and so was held as one unclean.  By her own choice and actions, forced by circumstances not recorded, -- in sexual, economic, or social failings, she was a woman who had did not belong.  

Do you see her?   

No, because we are too swift to classify and even if we are slow to condemn, we are not slow to dismiss.   Of no interest, not our kind, trouble, embarrassing.   

But look at her.  There is a quality of broken heartedness and gratitude both that we didn't expect.  Pouring out fragrant and soothing balm on his feet. Weeping tears mingling repentance and joy, sorrow for the past and unexpected hope for the future-she holds his feet as if they were the most precious thing on earth.   

Do you see her?  Something has happened in her that might not happen in us. We know we belong here-at least some of us do.  We have either avoided the most destructive of behavior and the vilest sins, or we have learned to excuse them, at least most of us have.  We are not going to make a spectacle of ourselves, weeping or making extravagant gestures.  Do you see her? Something has happened to her that is going on in us-even if not quite so openly.  

Whatever her past- -if it's the sensational story we imagine or something less titillating,  whether her own choice or forced on her by circumstances-whatever her past, it is no barrier now.  Jesus is content to have her pouring herself out at his feet even though she embarrasses everyone else in the room.  Jesus knows that something is happening in her that is precious and holy.  The same is true of you.  Prophets tell parables and help us see in ourselves the meanness and the failure and the dishonorable and the destructive.  And just when we crumble into a ball on the floor, there are those feet.  Just when we no longer want to be near ourselves-Jesus draws us to himself.   

Paul insists that we can stop trying to justify ourselves- -and simply accept the unearned and even unasked grace that flows from God through Jesus Christ.  Offensive as it is-Jesus forgives.   Before we've read the book on being the perfect penitent, and even before we have adopted a new pattern of behaviour.  Now-not because of who we are, but because of who God is, there is forgiveness.  "I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me".  That love tells the truth as surely as Nathan.  That love welcomes us even as that woman was welcomed.  In that generous self-giving, we receive ourselves.  The whole of who we are-the past with whatever scars and the future with its fears-it is given back to us to be lived without shame or deception or fear.  That is what forgiveness accomplishes-that is what Jesus does at that dinner table and at this altar.   

Our sins and folly have their repercussions.  Our own children, our community, even the earth itself can reveal the after effects of our greed, dishonesty, and other failings.  Nathan has us in his sights as much as David.  But so too does Jesus.  Forgiveness is not magic, and when Jesus picks us up off the floor, we are sent to deal honestly, compassionately and in humility with the realities of our life, even when those realities are difficult.  But we are sent out with this new thing-hope and a sense of worth that flows from God through us.   

Do you see this woman?  She getting up now and walking away.  Those powerful words have changed her life-Your sins are forgiven, your faith has saved you, go in peace.   

Here's what Luke doesn't show us, but its what we need to see.  Watch the woman walk out of that room, with a broken jar in her hand, her hair still disheveled.  Look at David on his throne, somehow living despite the burden of knowing himself-What happens next?   

Well, what will you do with what you hear and receive here?  Do you see this woman, can you watch this man?  It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.  So, when you walk away from here-after you've heard the words that reveal the truth and after you've found this unaccountable witness-after truth and mercy have worked their mission with in you-what will the Christ who lives in you do?  That will be something worth seeing.