Our texts today helps us think about worship — about what it means bring our sin honestly before God, to release what we have done and what we have left undone, to place it all at Jesus’ feet, and to let God’s forgiveness roll down over us!
Today, on this Father’s Day, we have some powerful stories and images from the Bible about coming to terms with our sin, our mistakes (known and unknown), and then opening our selves to accepting God’s forgiveness. That’s the greatest gift for those of us who are fathers: God’s forgiveness for the things we have done and left undone. And that’s for all of us, not just our fathers. God’s forgiveness comes rolling toward us today, like a wave. Ever been washed over by a wave in the ocean? So cool and refreshing! What a gift!
Our gospel text gives us two characters: a Pharisee and a woman of the city, it says. The truth is, Jesus loves and forgives (and is friends with) both of them actually. (Jesus accepts the invitation and takes a seat at the table at the Pharisee’s house. In Luke, more than other Gospel’s Jesus is friends with the Pharisees.) But the great lesson here comes from this weeping woman. She teaches us about worship and about faithful living…
 |
| Wood carving of Martin Luther "holding court", taken in the basement of the Lutherhaus in Wittenberg, GE |
This is the Pharisee. And this is us too. We like to be in control, maybe not necessarily of a room, maybe not holding court, but we all like to be in control of our lives, of our possessions, of our bank accounts, of our children, of our safety, of our futures, of our emotions, the list goes on…We all like to be in control.
And when something or someone threatens to crack us from the control that (we think) we have, that’s pretty much a threat. And we put up our resistance. Some through fight or flight, but we resist anyone or anything trying to break us of our control, trying to take our control away.
Have you ever been on a roll with a thought or a story, and someone interrupts and not only breaks your focus, but also takes the attention away from you? Dads?
In comes this woman, making a scene before Jesus. “Hey! Excuse me, I’m holding court here!” But she’s crying and looks all remorseful, and it was actually not uncommon for people to wander in to a home during a dinner party, looking for handouts or whatever. Culture was much more public back then. (Describe the u-shaped tables, reclining and open-air dinning spaces.) In comes this woman, and she couldn’t contrast the Pharisee (and maybe you and me) more sharply. She’s out of line, and out of control.
She’s weeping uncontrollably, she’s covering Jesus’ feet with a special ointment and with kisses, and wiping them with her most prized possession: her hair.
I doubt any of us would ever make a scene like that. For one, we just don’t do that in our day in day-in-age. But also, we don’t loose control. That’s a sign of weakness and submissiveness. No way! Now, lots of people do make scenes in our day-in-age, but I’m finding it’s usually more for glorifying themselves in a blatant show of humility: “Look at how pious, or holy, or humble, or good, or faithful I am!”
This woman is up to something different. It’s hard for us to see today (we’re too savvy and suspicious), in quite the same way, but she is bringing everything she has before Jesus, starting with her honesty. She brings her whole life, her real life—the good, the bad and the ugly—her sin and her brokenness, her gifts (that alabaster jar of ointment), and wipes Jesus feet—in a show of, we’re not sure: joy, sorrow, confession—she wipes Jesus feet with her most prized possession: her hair. She brings it all, and releases it...in total submission.
She teaches us about worship, sisters and brothers in Christ. Not just worship on Sunday morning, although that’s a big part of it. But she teaches us about worship, which is, at the heart, offering. Did you know that?
If I asked you what is the whole purpose of worship, what’s at the center, what would you say? But at the very core and center of worship is the offering. Where we bring all that we are and all that we have and pour it out, and offer it to God. How do we wipe Jesus feet with our most prized possessions? See, this woman teaches us a great lesson about worship, about living faithfully, and in total submission to God. She reminds us of what we hate to admit: that we are not in control. (Malcolm lifting up the plate on his tip toes.)
A couple years ago, a book came out called Death by Suburb: How to Keep the Suburbs from Killing our Soul. Written by a pastor in the suburbs of Chicago. [If you’ve got my copy… :)] And the basic structure of the book is that he highlights about 7 or 8 “toxins” of suburban living and suburban thinking. And he counters each one with an ancient spiritual practice.
One of the toxins of suburban culture, he argues, is “I am in control of my life.” And do you know what he counters that with? Offering. Opening ourselves (our time and our possessions) up to God, an ancient spiritual practice. Remember our forefathers (this Father’s Day)?...Abraham, Isaac, Jacob sacrificing their very best sheep? That’s their whole worship service! The offering-up.
And in that offering-up, in that total honesty, in that total submission — comes total forgiveness. (King David)
Let’s bring it all to God, sisters and brothers who follow Jesus! Let’s offer it all to God, dads! Even us! Let’s lay our lives at the feet of Jesus. Let’s confess our sin, really [not just traffic sins]; let’s get that burden off our backs. Christ will take it, all of it. Let’s go up on our tip toes, let’s offer our everything. And wipe Jesus’ feet with our most prized possessions.
The truth is, Jesus forgives (and is friends with) both the Pharisee and the woman, but the honest one, unguarded, out-of-control, real, penitent one receives the greater gift here! And that gift of grace and forgiveness is waiting for you too. There’s an offering for you too. All we can do is open our hands and our arms, and receive that forgiveness and grace. It comes rushing, like a wave of mercy, crashing over us. (Go to the beach this week, the Pacific Ocean — what Ben Stewart call’s “the world’s largest baptismal font”, and let God’s grace crash all over you.) It cleanses us, heals us, forgives us, and washes us back up on the shore to be the people that God is calling us fathers, us all, to be. Thanks be to God. AMEN.
No comments:
Post a Comment