Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Sermon, St. John's Episcopal Church in Cornwall, June 12 2016

Galatians 2:15-21; Luke 7:36-8:3

Thank you for letting me share this worship with you.
I’m thrilled to be here with you when the Gospel mentions Mary Magdalene; the only time outside of Easter through the three-year cycle.  The Companions of Mary the Apostle journey with her as she journeys with Jesus.

Historically, the Church conflated Mary with this sinful woman.  Gregory the Great named that woman’s sin as prostitution, and so we got the belief that Mary was a prostitute.  We have no biblical evidence for that, but you can see how the rumor got started.

I want to defend her from that charge, to say she wasn’t a prostitute, but Jesus calls me to a deeper response.  Jesus would say, so what if she was?  

“Her sins, which were many, are forgiven.”

She comes to Jesus, she enters this room unbidden and unwelcomed, and she dares to wash and anoint his feet.  She cries over his feet.  This is so deep, so intimate, and yet mysterious.  
Are these tears of remorse or tears of gratitude?  Or both?
Were her sins forgiven because she has shown great love?  
Or, is she showing great love because her sins were forgiven?

Does she know herself to be forgiven before Jesus says it in front of the others?  If so, how does she know?

Maybe she heard Jesus’ sermon in Nazareth, where he announced good news to the poor.  Maybe she believed him. 
Maybe she heard the sermon on the plain (Luke 6) and heard herself comforted.   Maybe she heard other people calling him a friend of sinners, and she dared to hope that he would be her friend.  
Somehow, somewhere, she found hope that Jesus would receive her, and she acted in faith.

And maybe she heard about those other women, who accompanied Jesus, who served Jesus, and thought, “I can do that, too.”

Somehow, she must have heard that this man would accept her and heal her.
Her sins, which are many, are forgiven.

But there’s more than one sinner in this story.

Just before these verses, Jesus has been talking to the crowds.  He complains that they don’t get what he’s up to: they call him a glutton, a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.

The next thing we know, Simon has invited him to his house.

What’s up with that?  What would make a Pharisee, a devoted, even rigid, follower of the law invite a friend of sinners to his house?

We can imagine that he was curious.  Perhaps he looked forward to a good debate about the law.  But maybe, just maybe, a deeper part of him knew that he too needed forgiving.  Maybe that part of him knew that he needed a friend, someone who would befriend him in his sin rather than judge him.

Perhaps he longs to hear Jesus say, “Your sins are forgiven.”

Jesus does not judge Simon; he instructs him.
But neither does he forgive him.

Have you ever tried to forgive someone who has done you wrong, only to find they never thought they did wrong?  If you say, “I forgive you,” they take offense.  “I don’t need forgiveness!”  they protest.  How dare you suggest I need to be forgiven by you!

You may forgive them in your heart, you may be free of resentment, but they are still bound by their refusal to acknowledge their sin.

Perhaps you’ve been that person too, the one who refuses to be forgiven.

What is Simon looking for in Jesus?

What are you looking for?

The greatest barrier to deep relationship with God and Christ is our insistence on being good already, on not needing forgiveness.

This is why Paul is so upset with the Galatians.  They are turning back, trying to earn God’s love by following the Jewish law.  Paul has been there and done that, and he knows there is a deeper release in acknowledging the ways he falls short and letting God heal him.

If I try to earn God’s love, I shut God out.  It’s all about me again.  I have to let go.

But that path is vulnerable.  We have to break open our jars and pour out the pain and longing that we carry.  We have let go of the identities that hold us apart - Pharisee and sinner; Republican and Democrat; Black and white and all the other colors; gay and straight; male and female.  We have to pour out our certainty about who is who and what is what.  We have to acknowledge our sins and ask to be forgiven, and we have to forgive knowing that we will be hurt again.

“Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

Jesus tells this woman to go in peace.  And perhaps she joins the company of women traveling with Jesus.  Perhaps she stays in her town and faces into the judgments of others.  Whatever she does, she is saved.  She is healed through forgiveness, through her faith that Jesus means what he says and is who he seems to be.  The faith that sent her to Simon’s house has led her to repent, to open her jar and her heart to God through Christ.

In a few minutes we will confess our sins.  This moment can go so quickly, and become rote.  But they are saving words: the ones we say, and the ones we receive.  After I sit down, I invite you to spend a minute in silence to truly search your heart for regrets, and ask Jesus to forgive you.  After the absolution we share the peace that Jesus offered to this woman, and offers to us.  We are then ready for the table, ready to stand before God.

May your heart open to receive the healing love of Christ, and to share that with everyone you meet.  Go in peace.  Amen.




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