The Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
The reading in First Kings assigned for today makes best sense when it is related to its full context in the ministry of Elijah the prophet. Unfortunately, the first of the lessons about Elijah has been dropped from this year's lectionary; the arrangement of Sundays after Trinity Sunday moved us from the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time before Pentecost to the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time after Trinity. This means that the Ninth and Tenth Sundays in Ordinary Time are dropped from this year's calendar. So I decided to put in my exposition for First Kings 18 to set the context. The exposition of First Kings 21 follows this.
FIRST KINGS 18:20-21 (22-29) 30-39:
The pattern for Israelite prophecy was set by a strange man who burst unexpectedly before the nation during the kingship of Ahab. In the name of his God Yahweh, and in the spirit of the covenant made by Moses, Elijah the prophet challenged the policies of Ahab the king.
In Elijah's view, Ahab was perpetuating the basic pagan heresy begun in the time of Solomon and espoused by Ahab's own father, King Omri of Israel: the marriage of throne and altar. King Ahab, who ruled in the northern kingdom of Israel from about 869 to 850 BC, approximately l00 years after Solomon had taken over the throne of David, had inherited a wealthy and powerful state from his father Omri, and was anxious to continue to build the political and economic strength of his nation.
One of the methods he employed was to link his kingdom in commercial treaties with other principalities by marrying a princess of the other realm. Accordingly, Ahab went to the sea-coast town of Sidon, an important trading and commercial center one hundred miles north of his capital city of Samaria, and married a young woman named Jezebel, daughter of the Sidonian priest-king Ethbaal. While Ahab was relatively tolerant in matters of religion, Jezebel was not. Her name and her father's were both compounded with the name of their god, the baal, and Jezebel meant to live up to her name.
Ahab's tolerance was her opportunity and his undoing. Ahab was willing to worship Yahweh if it seemed a politic thing to do, but he did not intend to make such worship normative for all Israelites; if other gods were important to some of his subjects, he would provide for their worship as well. So when Jezebel was added to his family he built a temple to her baal.
To Jezebel, however, the worship of baal was of prime importance not only to herself but to all Israel. She immediately began to persecute the priests and worshipers of Yahweh and in the purge, as far as was within her power, she wiped out the worship and worshipers of Israel's God.
Her actions had wide-ranging political and ethical results. In the regions of Canaan and Syria where the baals were supreme, the king considered himself not only the primary political officer of the state but also the nation's chief spokesman for God. In other words, the king was the absolute ruler, accountable for his policies to no one in heaven or on earth but himself. This was the direction that the Davidic covenant under Solomon's Israel had poInted and under Ahab and Jezebel it came into full focus: the king was both king and high priest, and anyone who attacked the policies of the king was in effect attacking God.
It hardly needs to be pointed out that this was contrary to the basic religious faith of Israel. Ever since the time of Moses, Israelites had insisted that the king was not to be thought of as God's infallible spokesman; like all other citizens of the realm, he too was accountable to Yahweh. It was Elijah the prophet who stepped forth in the time of Ahab to call both king and people back to the ancient sources of their religion, back to the covenant established between God and people at the time of Moses, back to accountability to the living God.
Scriptures tell of two episodes in this critical contest between El1jah and Ahab. The first took place on Mount Carmel, a mountainous promontory which juts into the Mediterranean Sea thirty-five miles due west of the Sea of Galilee and fifty miles northwest of Samaria.
Israel, at this time, was experiencing one of the worst droughts in its history; for three dreadful years there had been no rain in the kingdom. Elijah, a native of the village of Tishbe in Gilead, had announced that the drought had been caused by the policies of King Ahab: because of the king's unfaithfulness. Yahweh had withdrawn the dew and the rain.
Elijah's very name speaks of his allegiance: "My God is Yahweh" is the precise meaning of the name. His little village was east of the Jordan river, where he had lived a rough, semi-nomadic life on the very edge of the desert. He must have been a strange sight to the cultured people of the land of Israel, clothed as he was in a garment of hair, held in place by a leather girdle around his waist, a man of rugged strength and enormous endurance.
In announcing that the drought came at the hand of Yahweh, he was challenging the prophets of baal in the very sphere of their power. They insisted that their god was the god of fertility, who brought life to the seed and water to the earth. In issuing his challenge, Elijah was claiming that Yahweh's authority extended over the fertility of the land as well as all other spheres of life. The priests of baal accepted his challenge, and both sides agreed that the contest should take place on Mount Carmel.
The site itself was significant. Mount Carmel stood on the shores of the Great Sea, a region that the people of Sidon and the followers of baal had claimed as belonging to their god. The confrontation had drama written through it. On one side stood 450 prophets of baal and four hundred prophets of Asherah. On the other side, alone, stood Elijah. The people of Israel had gathered to witness the confrontation, and Elijah called upon them to make a choice. "How long," he asked them, "will you limp along with two different opinions, like a bird hopping from one leg to another?" (I Kings 18:21) He was comparing them to a bird jumping along a branch until it came to a fork, then vainly imagining it could continue its course by putting one foot on one branch and the other foot on the second branch. "Israel is like that bird," said the prophet. "You people want to keep one foot in the faith of Israel and the other foot in the worship of baal." But the time had come to make the choice, either to worship Yahweh, God of the covenant, or baal, god of fertility. To Elijah, the questions of religion were basically questions of loyalties and allegiances: to whom will a people give their allegiance?
The purpose of the confrontation between the two sides was to see which god would bring rain --in other words, who controlled the fertility of the land? Before the rain could come, however, one god or the other had to make a bold response to their agent's entreaties so each party agreed to perform their respective rites with the understanding that "the god who answers by fire" is God. (1 Kings 18:24)
The prophets of baal worked themselves into ecstatic frenzy as they performed their limping dance around the altar and shouted their ritual cries to baal. As they were doing this, Elijah stood off to the side, magnificently confident, laughing the baal into meaningless unreality and taunting the fanatic priests with jests: maybe baal does not answer, he suggested, because he is on a trip, or needs to be awakened from his slumber, or who knows, perhaps he had even gone out to the privy. Under Elijah's goading, the prophets of baal whipped themselves into even more frenzy. They were unsuccessful. No fire appeared. These solemn words stand in judgment over their futile efforts:
"There was no voice; no one answered; no one heeded." (1 Kings 18:29)
Elijah stepped forward. He repaired the altar to Yahweh that had been torn down in Jezebel's purge. Then he did a curious thing. He poured water onto the wood and into the trenches around the altar. Did he do this only to make it impossible for fire to appear except by supernatural means? Did he do it to have the water represent the storm that was about to come? Then he prayed. Then fire descended from heaven and consumed everything upon the altar, the altar itself, and the water in the trenches around it The people were so awed by the spectacle that they exclaimed, "Yahweh is God!" They quickly condemned to death the defeated prophets of baal and the sentence was immediately carried out.
The climax of the story came, however, not with the destruction of the antagonistic prophets but with the ending of the drought. Elijah announced to Ahab, "There is a sound of the rushing of rain." The prophet of God sent his servant to look toward the Mediterranean Sea while Elijah himself lay prostrate in prayer; seven times, in fact, he sent him to search the heavens for some sign of rain. The seventh time the servant returned with the announcement that a storm cloud -- "a little cloud no bigger than a man's hand" -- was approaching. (1 Kings 18:44)
The storm gathered and the rains descended. Ahab hurried to the Valley of Jezreel, the shortest route from the coast to Samaria, fearful all the while that his chariot might bog down in the mud. Elijah, with the triumph of the day hard upon him, in a mighty burst of exuberant energy ran before the king into the Valley. The issue had been contested and Yahweh had won: Yahweh was clearly God of the land and the skies and the seas, clearly the God who provides all things necessary for the people.
FIRST KINGS 21:1-21: The episode related in this text took place in and around the city of Samaria. Naboth, a citizen of Samaria, the capital city of Israel at this time, owned a vineyard that adjoined the palace of Ahab the King, and Ahab wanted to purchase the land in order that he might have room to expand his house. He offered Naboth very generous terms for the property, but Naboth refused to sell.
The vineyard in question was a family estate; it belonged to the whole family, the clan who had passed it down to him from generation to generation as a sacred trust, and Naboth wanted to hold it intact for his sons and his sons' sons. He felt that Yahweh was the real owner of the land, and Yahweh had called upon Naboth to be a wise steward and administer it for the welfare of the whole community; that by the nature of the covenant community, land-grabbing and private speculation were ruled out. So Naboth replied to the king: "Yahweh forbids that I should give you the inheritance of my fathers." Ahab was upset at this reply, but he accepted it as valid. He did not seek to force Naboth to give up the property, but returned to his palace to sulk.
Jezebel, ever alert to her husband's interests, saw him sulking and wanted to know the reason for his displeasure. He told her what had happened, and she immediately held before him the claim of the baals. "Are you not the king?" she asked. "Cannot you do with your own people and your own land what you desire?" So she set out to secure the land for him.
She did it in a legal, if not a moral, way. She called Naboth to trial for what he had done. A hearing was held before the elders of the people, and Naboth was seated in the front row as a defendant in the trial.
The charge was "cursing God and the king." Behind the charge was the fact that when Naboth had felt his ownership of the land threatened, he had reaffirmed his ownership by invoking the name of Yahweh and at the same time had appealed to the king to respect his rights. Jezebel tried to destroy his case by bribing two witnesses to say that they had heard Naboth promise in the name of Yahweh to sell the land to the king and that now he was reneging on the promise. Once a deal had been negotiated and agreed upon , the name of God invoked to seal it, the penalty to fail to complete the agreement was either mutilation or death. By presenting the evidence of the perjured witnesses, Jezebel's case against Naboth was airtight.
The sentence of the elders of Samaria was swift and complete: Naboth and his sons were sentenced to death, and the sentence was carried out. Jezebel was neither the first nor the last to use the systems of justice as a means of securing her own unjust aims. She proudly presented the land to Ahab who moved to take possession of his vineyard.
Jezebel and Ahab had forgotten one man: Elijah the Tishbite. As Ahab went to the vineyard to claim it as his own, he found the prophet standing there. On the ground stained by the blood of its rightful stewards, the prophet thundered out the impending divine judgment: "You and your family shall die in your sins."
Ahab was struck to the heart. As David had done in the presence of judgment of Nathan, Ahab threw himself on the ground before Elijah, penitent before the lord. Elijah thereupon changed the sentence. Ahab should not die for his sins, but his wife Jezebel should. The Israelite general, Jehu, a Yahweh enthusiast, carried out the sentence. In his brutal palace revolution against the sons of Ahab. Jezebel was cast from the palace window; the horses trampled her body into the ground. and the dogs lapped up her blood
These episodes from the ministry of Elijah clearly delineate the basic conflict between Yahweh and baal. In the land of the baals, the king was permitted to speak for God and he was accountable to no one except the god for whom he himself was the chief spokesman. In the covenant community of Yahweh, every person was equal before the law --whether he be rich or poor, king or private citizen --and the whole community was responsible to the sovereign will of the Lord as this will was expressed in the laws which had been handed down from the wilderness period and refined by usage in Israel. When this justice was overridden by the powerful people of the realm, Yahweh intervened to defend the weak and the defenceless and to restore the order and solidarity of the covenant community.
The confrontation between Elijah and Ahab poInted up the conflict between these two ways of life. Ahab's problem lay not in the idol that he worshiped but in the value or values it represented; the issue at hand centered around the kind of behavior sponsored by a particular kind of religion. In the religion of Yahweh, all behavior was accountable to the living God. In the religion of baal, the king's behavior was exempt from this, and he could set his own standards of ethical performance.
Seeing the religious problem in this way brings us the basic insight that Elijah offered: the main religious problem before humankind is not atheism but idolatry. The atheist is one who has no values at all. The idolater is one who has too many values and whose values contradict each other. By such a definition, few are atheists. but many, perhaps even ourselves, are idolaters who need again to hear the basic message of Elijah: "Our idolatries, our over-abundant and contradictory values, need to be regulated by our accountability to the living God who declares, 'I am your God, you are my people --now act as if you truly belong to me.'"
It is because of this message and the courageous way in which he presented it that Elijah is acknowledged to be the first of the truly great prophets of Israel. He was not the first prophet in Israel's history, but he was the first in the record of Scripture to give himself fully to the message from God hammered out by Moses himself.
PSALM 5:1-8: At first glance, this psalm seems a common one, expressing the kinds of ideas that are expressed in many of the psalms, and we might be tempted to pass it off as "nothing new." On further observation, however, this psalm contains much to which we need to give attention as we read it, and I will try to point out some of its distinctiveness.
1. This is the first psalm in the psalter that brings to our attention two words that are important to all the Old Testament.
One is the word "hesed." This was the last word to be translated by the translators of the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, and that alone tells us that this word cannot be translated into a single English equivalent. We might use "grace" for it, or mercy, compassion, patience, faithfulness, loyalty, and love. The New Revised Standard Version ordinarily translates it as "steadfast love" and the New International Version as "unfailing love." It refers to God's loyalty to the covenant that God made with all people through Israel, in which God declared that he was their God and they were God's people. God is loyal to that covenant, God is faithful to it, God is patient in carrying it out, showing mercy and compassion to those who break it, and through it God's love for all is made known. That is God's side of the covenant. Our side is to respond faithfully to God, to show gratefulness for God's graciousness in treating us in this way, to love those whom God loves. No wonder these translators have assigned so many meanings to this word. It is the heart of God's relationship to us: God shows "hesed" to us through Moses and Jesus Christ, and we are to respond to God with a "hesed" of our own.
This psalm is also the first to call God "my King." God rules, says the image behind kingship. We experience the rule of God now, and we expect that rule to become apparent to all people in some future time. Jesus caught the tension encompassed in the phrase. "The kingdom of God is at hand," he told the world. He asked his disciples to pray, "Thy kingdom come."
2. The psalm is set before us as a "morning psalm": "in the morning I plead my case to you." This fits in with its context in the psalter. Psalms three and four are evening psalms, that is, they are set at the time of evening prayers. Israelites offered prayer both at morning and in the evening, and these three psalms may be ones that they used on these occasions.
Note the intensity of the prayer: "Give ear," heed my sighings, "listen to the sound of my cry," "I plead," "I watch." This is no casual prayer, offered on the spur of the moment. This is a desperate prayer offered from the depths of one's soul by one in urgent need for answers to his prayers. Moffatt translated the key phrase as "the murmurings of my soul." Beneath the placid exterior the man exhibited to the world the murmurings that showed him displeased with himself, with his situation in life, and with his God. Only when these murmurings were expressed in sighs and cries, pleading and watching could this psalmist find himself at peace with God.
Such a God! He is "My King." He keeps covenant with me. More even than that, this God hates evil of any sort. Watch, as the psalmist piles up words and ideas that show how much God abhors evil.
"You are not a God who delights in wickedness." God, rather, delights in righteousness.
"Evil will not sojourn with you." Behind the word "sojourn" is a picture of evil knocking on the gate of God's throne room asking to be admitted as a guest, only to be met with an indignant stare and a disdainful rejecting hand. As Sclater says (IB :37), "There is such a thing as the disgust of God."
"The boastful will not stand before your eyes." The "boastful" are those who think they can live life on their terms and not consider God's terms for their lives. "They will not stand," says the psalmist bluntly.
"You hate all evildoers. You destroy those who speak lies. You abhor the bloodthirsty and deceitful." What must God have thought about the doings of those of us who have lived in the 20th century. It was a time marked with evil and lying and deceit and violence. It is only by the mercy of God that we have a 21st century to enter into!
3. The lection does not end, however, until it points for us a way through this mire of evil and violence. We need to come before the majesty of the Lord in awe and wonder. "I will bow down toward your holy temple in awe of you." Even this I can do only because of the wondrous love of God: "through the abundance of your hesed I will enter your house." Then comes the psalmist's final prayer: "Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness. Make your way straight before me."
GALATIANS 2:15-21: As happened above with the omission of important accounts in First Kings, when the usual ninth and tenth Sundays in Ordinary Time were replaced by Pentecost and Trinity Sunday, two important passages in Galatians were also omitted. It is important therefore to tell the story of the Letter to the Galatians before moving on to the interpretation of the text assigned in Galatians for this day.
In my thinking, the Letter to the Galatians stands alongside those to the Corinthians and that to the Romans as the most important of Paul's letters. I make a number of scholarly assumptions about Galatians that I want to share with you.
First, it is my assumption that Galatians was the earliest letter of Paul that we have in the New Testament. I see Galatians as having been written back to the Christian communities in Galatia after Paul had left them and before he arrived at the conference of Christian leaders held in Jerusalem around the year 46 AD. Having been written before that conference, it states the understanding of the faith held by Paul in his earliest days. After that conference and in the name of Christian unity, Paul was forced to make changes in his practice. In this letter, we find the faith of Paul set forth in his boldest and purest way.
Second, the churches of Galatia to which this letter was written were those in Iconium, Derbe, and Lystra. Paul and Barnabas had arrived together in the Syrian city of Antioch, and they were sent by the church through the power of the Holy Spirit to those cities near Tarsus where Paul had grown up. They had some initial success in converting persons, both former Jews and former Gentiles, to the faith. But they were dogged by "some Jews" who came to each of these churches and who made their mission miserable. (This story is told in Acts 13 and 14.) So they returned to Antioch.
But in Antioch they also ran into trouble. "Certain individuals came from Judea, and they were teaching the church in Antioch that unless they were circumcised according to the custom of Moses, they could not be saved. So Paul and Barnabas were appointed to go up to Jerusalem (Acts 15) to meet with the apostles and the elders who were there.
Before they arrived in Jerusalem, however, (this is my assumption) Paul wrote a letter back to the churches in Iconium, Derbe and Lystra from which they had just come. In this letter they asked them to remain true to the faith they had received through Paul. This letter is "The Letter to the Galatians."
In the opening chapters of the letter (the ones that are assigned to those Sundays dropped from the present Year C of the Lectionary), Paul did two extraordinary things. He set out his own journey of faith to that point, and he quoted from agreements that had been made between the leaders of the church in Jerusalem and Paul and Barnabas, the apostles (the Sent Ones) that the church had sent out.
In these chapters he set out his call to be an apostle. He described that before this call came, he had been trained to as a Pharisee. Pharisees were strict in their interpretation of the Law of Moses, and they were especially strict on the issue of who they would eat with at meals. They had determined that they would eat only kosher food. They had said that they would not eat with anyone who did not wash for the meal in the prescribed manner and who ate food that was not properly prepared. This meant that they ate only with other Pharisees, no one else. Paul had accepted that practice, and he was zealous to maintain it. He was so zealous about it, in fact, that he tried to destroy "the church of God," those Christian fellowships which did not accept his strict interpretation of the Law of Moses.
Suddenly Paul had a change of heart. In the Book of Acts it is described as a vision of Christ appearing to him and a voice from heaven calling to him. As Paul describes his call in Galatians (1:15-16) it is a purely internal matter. God had set Paul apart before he was born and was pleased to reveal his Son in him ("en emoi" is the Greek phrase) so that Paul would preach him to the Gentiles. After this occurred, Paul did not go up to Jerusalem to confer with those who were Christian before him. Instead he went across the Jordan into the lands called "Arabia," and then he went on to Damascus.
Three years later he did go up to Jerusalem. He visited Cephas (Peter, the leader of the group called The Twelve), and he saw James, the Lord's brother. He did not see any of the apostles. Out of that meeting came a credential that Paul used while he was preaching in Syria and Cilicia: "The one who was formerly persecuting us is not proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy."
Fourteen years later (we do not know whether the "fourteen years" are dated from the time of Paul's call or the time of his visit in Jerusalem) Paul went back up to Jerusalem. This time he went up with Barnabas, his fellow apostle, and they took Titus along with them. Titus was one of their Gentile converts, and in this meeting the pillars (Cephas, James and John) did not insist that Titus be circumcised. Out of this came another agreement. "They saw that I had been entrusted with the gospel to the uncircumcised, just as Peter was entrusted with the gospel to the circumcised," and they agreed that "the one working in Peter to the circumcised also worked through me (Paul) to the Gentiles." (The New Revised Version adds words to their translation of the text that are not in the text itself.) "They gave Barnabas and me the right hand of fellowship, agreeing that we should go to the Gentiles, and they to the circumcised."
But the agreement unraveled quickly. In Antioch Peter began to eat the meal, presumably the Lord's Supper, with both circumcised Jews and uncircumcised Gentiles eating at the same table. But then some members of the party of James arrived in Antioch from Jerusalem. They objected to both parties eating together. They persuaded Peter to withdraw from the table with the Gentiles, and even Barnabas drew back. Paul was incensed and confronted Peter to his face. With that confrontation the actual text for the day begins.
Paul's first statement seems complicated to us, but Peter understood what it meant. "If you, though a Jew, have lived like a Gentile and not a Jew, how can you compel Gentiles to live like Jews?" In other words, Peter had lived for a little while in Antioch like a Gentile. He had eaten meals with Gentiles. He had adopted some of their lifestyle. He must have thought that the Gentile way was an acceptable way. How could he now ask the Gentiles to change their ways and live like a Jew? Paul was willing to let the Jewish Christians keep the law - but once a person lives as a Gentile (as both Paul and Peter had done) he has broken the law and cannot again keep it - and he should not expect a Gentile to keep it, either.
Paul went on. "We are Jews and not Gentile sinners (to be a Gentile, in Jewish eyes, was to be a sinner - Paul was simply expressing what Jews thought). But we know that our salvation does not come by 'works of law.'" "Works of law" was a phrase that referred to the Jewish practices of circumcision, food laws, and keeping the sabbath; for most Jewish people, the "law of Moses" had reduced itself to that. "These do not save us," said Paul. "At best they set the Jew apart from the Gentile. One thing alone saves us: the faithfulness of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ cared for us, Jesus Christ loved us, Jesus Christ sought us out, Jesus Christ died for us. Jesus Christ showed us what faithfulness is. His faithfulness demonstrates the faithfulness of God. God cares for us, God loves us, God seeks us out, God will make the ultimate sacrifice for us. In the faithfulness of Jesus Christ our justification comes."
Paul then picks up the basic charge that Law-observant Christians had laid against him. "If we live like Gentiles who are sinners, then Christ must be the servant of sin and not the source of salvation." This was an absurd statement, made only in the heat of argument, and Paul treated it as such. "How absurd," he said. Then Paul laid an additional charge against Peter: "You are building up what you once tore down - you are practicing the food laws and keeping the sabbath and advocating circumcision, after you had denied that these were important. Doing these things makes you a transgressor." Having cleared the ground for himself, Paul then made his most important statement to date in this controversy.
"I through law to law have died," said Paul, "so that to God I shall live. With Christ I am crucified. Lives no longer I, but lives in me Christ. The now I live in flesh, by faith I live in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.
I made my own translation of Paul's confession of faith because the ones given in our translations do not catch the force of what Paul is saying. "I tried to keep the law," says Paul, "but I am dead to that, because it is not my way of salvation. With Christ I am crucified. That crucifixion has made me dead to law but alive to grace; dead to sin but alive to faith; dead to flesh but alive to spirit. I continue to live out my life in my fleshly body, with all its imperfections and its instincts to sinning. But I am moving beyond that to grace, to faith, to spirit." The key words in this confession are "en emoi." Christ was "in me," said Paul, to call me to my mission. The same Christ is "in me" now, and he makes me alive to his spirit.
LUKE 7:36-8:3: Jesus has accepted the offer of a Pharisee to eat with him, and he went to his house and sat at table. The "table" was accessible to people who had not been invited to the meal. "Sitting at the table" meant that the guests reclined on their left elbow and ate the meal with their right hand. Their feet were extended behind them. As the honored guest, Jesus would have been placed next to the host, with his head near the breast of the Pharisee so that they would converse easily together.
The meal would have been put on a cloth or a tray in the midst of them. The meal would have been one that was kosher, that is, the meat had been properly cut and prepared, and the vegetables and herbs would come from a kosher garden. We can assume that Jesus had to perform the ablutions that a Pharisee did when he sat at table with him, else the Pharisee would not have been permitted to eat with him. With Jesus' many statements against the Pharisees in the gospels, we are not apt to think of Jesus eating a Pharisaic meal, but the evidence of this story indicates that he did.
As they were lying around a table, a woman came up behind them. She is described as "a woman of the city, who was a sinner." These words may imply that she was a harlot, and some of her subsequent actions seem to portend that, as well. She was weeping tears upon the feet of Jesus, and she unloosed her hair to wipe them off. No woman of reputation would come up to a man in a public place. Nor would she touch him, as she had to do to anoint him. Above all, she would not loosen her hair in the presence of men. Only a prostitute would do that.
Had she had a previous encounter with Jesus? We are not told that she did. We are told that she had prepared herself for meeting him. She had brought an alabaster flask of ointment with which to anoint him. But on seeing him, she was so overcome with emotion that she began to weep, uncontrollably. The tears rolled down her face onto Jesus' feet, and she wiped them with her unbound hair and she began to kiss Jesus' feet. Then she anointed them with the ointment she had brought.
The Pharisee was appalled. She was an unclear creature. She had performed an unacceptable act. "If Jesus were a prophet, as people say he is," the Pharisee said within himself, "he would have known the kind of woman that was touching him, and he certainly would not have permitted it."
Jesus read his thoughts. He called the Pharisee by name: "Simon," he said. Then he went on. "I have something to say to you." Jesus told him a story. This was not unusual at banquets for the guest to tell a host a riddle. That was part of the entertainment of the banquet, to challenge each other with stories and riddles, and Simon thought that Jesus was entering into the kind of banter that often went on at these meals.
Jesus' story had a sharper point than this, however. "Simon," said Jesus, "a certain creditor had two debtors." Well and good, this situation was usual in Palestine. "One owed five hundred denarii, and the other owed fifty." A denarius was a Roman silver coin, and it was the usual payment to a peasant for one day's labor. "Fifty denarii" may not have been an insurmountable debt, though for the Palestinian peasant it was more debt than he liked to take on. "Five hundred denarii" was a back-breaker. To pay off the debt, the peasant would have to pay every penny he owed for a year and a half; in the meantime his family would have no food, no new clothing. But the creditor was a compassionate man. "When they could not pay, he forgave them both." Such an act would have been most unusual in Palestine. Peasants feared debt. If they assumed debt, they could lose their lands, they could lose their means of livelihood, perhaps even their children would have been sold off as indentured servants to pay off this debt. But this creditor wiped out the debt. So Jesus asked, "Which of them will love him the more?
Simon pretended to be uncertain of the answer. "I suppose it would be the one to whom he forgave more." Jesus immediately picked up on his answer. "You have judged rightly," he said. Then Jesus pointed his parable against his host. He pointed to the woman. "When I entered your house, you gave me no water for my feet, you gave me no kiss, you did not anoint my head with oil." Well and good, a host in Jesus' time was not required to give these services to a guest. "But she did this for me," said Jesus. "She wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair; from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet; she anointed my feet with ointment. I tell you," said Jesus. "Her sins are forgiven, for she loved much."
Had Jesus stopped here, the parable would not have been so uncomfortable. But Jesus went on, and he seemed to have Simon in mind with his next words: "He who is forgiven little loves little." Forgiveness results in loving others, the one who forgives and any others who come into contact with the forgiven one. The woman loved much, for she had been forgiven much. Simon loved little, for he had been forgiven little. The index of our forgiveness is the outpouring of love that results from that.
To make certain that the woman knew she had been forgiven, Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. Go in peace." To this woman Jesus did not even give the injunction to sin no more. The enormity of her forgiveness, added to the faith that brought her to him, resulted in Jesus' benediction to her: "Go in peace."
Jesus' statement occasioned an argument among the others who came to the feast. "Who is this," they asked, "who even forgives sins?" No prophet had ever made that claim before. But the Jesus who has come into their midst is more than a prophet. He can not only speak in the name of God; he can act in the name of God, and he can bind God to contracts in his dealing with people. If Jesus declares that our sins are forgiven, they truly are, and God himself stands behind the authenticity of Jesus' words.
The lection closes with a statement that Jesus went on through cities and villages, preaching and bringing the good news of God's kingdom. The twelve went with him. So did some women who had been healed of evil spirit and infirmities. Mary Magdalene was one of these, and Joanna, the wife of Herod's own steward, and Susanna, and many others. These are the ones who provided for the upkeep of Jesus and the others, and they did so out of their own means.