Third Pentecost

              June 17, 2007

     A well-known politician was in a restaurant and the waiter brought over the rolls, but no butter.  “May I have some butter, please?”  The waiter gave a slight nod and wandered off.

     Ten minutes later, still no butter.  The politician caught the waiter’s eye.  “May I have some butter, please?”  Only the vaguest of responses was observed from the waiter, and after ten more minutes, still no butter.

     The politician motioned for the waiter.  “Maybe you don’t know who I am,” he said.  “I’m a Princeton graduate, a Rhodes scholar, and All-American basketball player who played professionally with the New York Knicks, and I’m currently a United States Senator, chairman of the International Debt Subcommittee of the Senate Finance Committee, chairman of the Water and Power Subcommittee of the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee, and a member of the Senate Select Intelligence Committee.”

     “Maybe you don’t know who I am,” said the waiter.  “I’m the guy who’s in charge of the butter.”

     Senator Bill Bradley would tell that story when he felt the pedestal getting too tall. 

     Simon the Pharisee invited the itinerant preacher home for Sunday dinner.  No sooner had they taken their places at the table when a sinner woman, apparently a “woman of the evening,” came in bearing a jar of alabaster ointment.  She fell to her knees behind the rabbi, crying.  She bathed his feet with her tears and rubbed the ointment over them and dried his feet with her hair.  She kissed his feet and applied more ointment.  It was a lavish thing to do and was scandalous because of who was doing it.  “Does he not know who I am?” Simon was wondering.  “If the things are true that I’ve heard about him he would know who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him.”  “Can’t be much of a rabbi to violate the prescribed rituals that way,” Simon and most of the others were thinking.

     Jesus sees the smirk on Simon’s face and pulls him to the side of the dinner guests.  He tells him a brief story about a man who had two creditors.  One of them owed about two years worth of debt and the other only owed a month’s worth.  The creditor forgave both debts.  Then the question, “which of them will love him more?”  Simon gets the right answer.  “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt,” Simon says. 

     Jesus assures him that he has answered correctly and is still in the game.  But, pay close attention Simon, the lesson is just beginning for you. 

     Jesus turns to the woman, looks directly at her, but directs his question over his shoulder to Simon.  “Do you see this woman?”  This is not a visual quiz.  This is a theological test.  “Simon, it’s not so much that your eyes can’t see; it’s that your heart is closed.  You invited me here for lunch, but didn’t even extend the common courtesy of providing some water for my tired, dirty feet.  She saw the need; you didn’t.  You wanted to make sure I knew who you were and you wanted to make sure I knew that you knew.  You didn’t give me the traditional peck on both cheeks in customary greeting between two men, but she has been kissing my feet in humble adoration.  You didn’t offer the two customary drops of soothing oil for my sunburned head, but she had put enough ointment on my feet that I can borrow some and massage it into my scalp.  Because she understands that she has no right to forgiveness, she has been forgiven and has shown great love.  You don’t believe you have anything for which you need forgiveness; so you didn’t see the need for extending loving acts.  You want me to feel indebted to you for your invitation to be a guest at dinner.  This woman feels only the need for acceptance and love.  You want to patronize me; she is conscious only that life cannot go on as it has been.”

     Simon was not aware that Jesus could grant anything he needed.  He was a collector of those who had some fame and this rabbi had been making a name for himself in those parts.  He just wanted to add this name to his growing list of the well-to-do who had eaten at or visited his home.  He felt no particular love for this Galilean preacher.  Simon believed he was a good man in the eyes of his fellows and in the eyes of God.  This woman somehow knew that the hands that could lift her out of the dirt that had become her life stood right in front of her.  Social conventions, societal pressures, and wagging tongues would not stop her from taking a life-changing chance.

     It is usually the case that the one thing that cuts us off from a relationship with God is self-sufficiency.  It has been said that the greatest sin is to be aware of none.  It is as we feel the great need for forgiveness that our hearts become open for God to enter. 

     So, even if you are the person in charge of the butter you have been charged to serve God’s people with a loving and grateful heart.  Not all will be grateful.  Not all will acknowledge what you do.  It’s okay that they don’t.  God notices and God loves and cares. 

      It is one of the greatest paradoxes of our faith that giving to “one of the least of these” is giving to God.  Confess your need to God.  Show great love to others because of the great love God has shown you.  Know that you are loved and forgiven and that you faith has saved you.  Then, go in peace.  Amen.