A Sermon from First Church, Scarborough…
A sermon offered by the Rev. Ian F. “Jack” Steeves in the public worship of the First Congregational Church of Scarborough, Maine on Sunday, June 17, 2007. The principal reading was Luke 7:36-50.
“…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” (7:44).
“The Uninvited, Unnamed Guest”
This story demonstrates two attitudes of the human mind and heart. One attitude (expressed by Simon) is conscious of no need and feels no love, and so receives no forgiveness. A second attitude (expressed by the unnamed woman) is conscious of her need, is overwhelmed with love for Jesus and receives forgiveness. It is true to say that the greatest of sins is to be conscious of no sin; but a sense of need will open the door to the forgiveness of God, because God is love, and love’s greatest glory is to be needed.
All are welcome! How often we have seen and heard these words. Most often our hosts mean what they say, although I doubt whether this vague, friendly gesture to everyone in general and no one in particular, is very effective. The words loom out at us on a dusty sign board while the crowd sweeps down Black Point Road.
All are welcome! I am bothered by the invitation. What bothers me is that I doubt whether the average man or woman outside the church – and perhaps even some inside – really believes that this is true.
Churches often appear to belong to a segregated group. I am talking about segregation of the “religious” from the “secular.” Our worship services are often thought to be for a certain kind of person.
You can test this theory by asking yourself who of your immediate friends or neighbors (not already here) you will be inclined to invite to come with you next Sunday morning to worship. Would there not be a group of likely prospects, and another group you would write off as “not that kind of people?” The name we give to the group of worshipers is a “congregation,” not“segregation.” And yet, the latter title persists in the common mind.
The idea dies hard that you have to be “good” to come to worship. The Bible tells us just the opposite. I am using “good” here with quotation marks, meaning a kind of self-conscious respectability, a sense of moral superiority. Simon the Pharisee’s impression of himself was that he was a good man in the sight of men, and he probably was. But, how did he stand in the eyes of God? The better a man or woman is the more they feel their sins, their shortcomings, and their needs. St. Paul spoke of sinners “of whom I am foremost” (I Timothy 1:15). The noble Francis of Assisi said, “There is nowhere a more wretched and a more miserable sinner than I.”
I have never heard in my ministry a church member speak of being better than a non-church going friend or neighbor. I have often heard others claim to be “as good as” those who go to church. It would not be wrong to say, “as bad as” those who go to church.
Yet somehow the idea sticks that church is for Tom and Mary (who are “religious”), but not for Dick and Jane (who are just ordinary folk with their feet on the ground), or for Harry and Louise (who find spiritual nourishment in long walks on the beach on Sunday morning). It’s sad and so untrue.
It is time we turned to today’s gospel reading (Luke 7:36-50) to set the record and our thinking very straight about this topic.
Jesus seizes the opportunity of an interrupted evening meal for both a parable telling and a little, direct speech. He declares that the way God deals with sinners is utterly different from the way religious (or “good”) people do, people who are tied to a merit or “points earned” system and are scornful of those who do not measure up.
The uninvited, unnamed guest, a woman of bad repute (although her sin is not specified) represents the multitude to which Jesus brings his message. It is typical of Jesus that the woman is never lost sight of. As he reacts to his host, Simon, the woman remains the focus of his attention. She, and not Simon, receives the ultimate affirmation: “Your sins are forgiven.”
Around the low dinner table, at which they would recline and not sit, the invited guests gasp and ask loudly, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” But the guest of honor is no longer listening. For Jesus there is only one person present who is capable of hearing what he has to say and of receiving what he has to offer. To the woman, he says, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Jesus seems perfectly at ease with her. She is truly welcome. What seems to matter to him is not any outward sign of religiosity or respectability. What then is he looking for?
What Jesus is looking for is a sense of need? That is all. The one thing that shuts us off from God is misconstrued, self-sufficiency. The greatest of sins is to be conscious of no sin; but a sense of need opens the door to the forgiveness of God, because God is love, and love’s greatest glory is to be needed. Unrequited love is a bore.
When Jesus says, he does not come “to invite virtuous people,” or “to call the righteous,” he means those who think of themselves as virtuous or righteous, or both, and therefore have no need of his message. He is not excluding people from God’s Kingdom. He is only pointing out that they exclude themselves. You cannot receive God’s mercy if you think you do not need it. You cannot find forgiveness if you have no sense whatever of having to look for it.
The terrible irony of the protests of the other guests derives from the fact that every single human being must learn sooner or later of the mysterious power, the sacred obligation to forgive sins. If we are to be who we say we are the followers of the forgiving Christ, then we must come round to the point where we, too, are capable of forgiving others.
It was to drive home this point that Jesus one day said to his disciples that their prayers had to be conditioned by this one issue alone. They could and would and should pray daily, “forgive us our sins,” so long as they realized that it is possible to receive such forgiveness but only “as we forgive those who sin against us.” It is not possible to hide “sin” behind such words as “debts” or “trespasses.” It is not an arbitrarily imposed condition of life and discipleship. It is more than a nice idea. It is the way in which life works. The source of forgiveness is divine, but the channel of forgiveness is our already forgiven and now forgiving human nature.
The common quality is a sense of need. “I need and I know it.” And that alone should be the distinguishing mark of those who are welcomed into Christ’s Church. We leave our pride at the door and bring our need in with us. And this is where Christ has placed his Church in the middle of the world’s many needs.
The Church belongs where there is human need. Only those who feel no need, who are completely satisfied with themselves as they are, who believe they have nothing in their lives that needs to be straightened out – only those persons are self-excluded from our number. Yet, beyond the conventionally defined cliché: All are welcome!
It would be wrong to leave this picture of Jesus at dinner with an uninvited, unnamed guest without making a final point. I have talked about the welcome to all, even the unexpected guest. But this is not the whole story. Christ does not simply welcome us and send us away unchanged or, is it, unchallenged. The Church does not exist simply to provide a divine meeting space for all where we can feel at home. The Gospel always has a transforming power. Christ does not call us because we are good. He calls us that he can communicate to us some of his goodness. It is not enough just to know that we are welcome. We need to know the cleansing grace of Christ, the redeeming love of God, and the empowering fellowship of the Holy Spirit. This is offered to us. This we receive. This is what we, in turn, offer to others. This is what Christ’s Church offers to all. Amen.
Post-Sermon prayer:
Lord, bring new life where we are worn and tired,
new love where we have turned hard hearted,
forgiveness where we feel hurt and where we have wounded,
and the joy and freedom of your Holy Spirit,
where we are the prisoners of our selves. Amen.
