Homily on Luke 7:36–50   December 1, 2019

By Sister Rebecca

Jesus consistently chooses the “path of meeting the marginalized of society.” In fact, as in today’s Gospel, these very broken ones are drawn to Jesus. It is precisely because Jesus was “suffering with” the marginalized—showing them compassion—that those in power challenged his authority. This is the case in today’s Gospel passage, as well. Simon, a Pharisee, a religious leader, has invited Jesus to dine in his home.  Suddenly, out of the blue, an uninvited, unnamed woman appears who is described simply as a “sinner in the city.” She doesn’t open her mouth.  Rather, she weeps, wets Jesus’ feet with her tears, wipes them with her hair, kisses them, and anoints them with perfumed oil. Upon listening to this story of such a display of loving sorrow, who cannot be moved by this woman deemed a sinner, portraying before Jesus her broken heart?

I would like to focus this morning on Simon the Pharisee.  He certainly does not come across as broken.  He was an educated Jewish leader.  The Gospels often report Pharisees as exhibiting self-righteousness.  They are not only learned, but also steeped in the knowledge of the Law of Moses.  They were considered to be paragons of faith.  Simon’s attitude shows that this woman, intruding into this party, has two strikes against her:  being a woman was strike one, and being a sinner was strike two.  Pharisees are portrayed as ordered and rule-abiding, in contrast to this woman’s spontaneous, unconventional, and socially inappropriate actions.

In imagining this story, I cannot help but see Simon’s facial expression of disdain, haughtiness, and extreme disapproval.  In his mind, he demonizes her. The text says that he thinks to himself: “If this man Jesus were a prophet, he would see who this woman is: a sinner.”  Jesus is quick to perceive where Simon’s mind was going.

At this point I would like to pause and explore what Luke makes clear. Simon objects silently “to himself” (literally: thinks to himself).  Luke highlights Simon’s unspoken thoughts and Jesus’ ability to perceive them.  In this scene, Luke sees a fulfillment of the prophecy pronounced years earlier over the infant Jesus by the prophet Simeon: that because of him, “the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed” (Luke 2:35). Luke tends to use the internal monologue for characters whose thoughts embody self-centeredness, disapproval, and judgmental attitudes.  Most commonly in the Hebrew Bible, inner speech depicts the thoughts of those who turn away from God.  Simon here reveals his true character: his thoughts lack love, hospitality, and, in the end, true discernment.  He clearly does not want to dialogue with Jesus.  He prefers to hide out in his own thoughts.  Today’s Gospel is more than just a story of forgiveness.  It is also about a woman who wiped Jesus’ feet with her tears because she knew she was forgiven.  She showed more love than did Simon, who had no reason in his own mind to be forgiven. Simon chooses to play it safe—putting more importance on looking like a righteous person—but in reality, he was not emotionally involved with life or with people like the woman who was considered a sinner.  As an aside, we can see in Simon someone who perhaps identified himself as a righteous one who needs no help.  One of the professed religious hazards is identifying oneself with the exterior religious outward expression.  Simon has not broken through his persona to the best version of his true self—the one Jesus is trying to awaken in him. 

This woman has no name. She has been merely labeled “sinner.”  That is her public ID. She is not even a person, just a despicable object.  Simon acts as though he has the password to who this woman really is. Simon and others see only the externals of her past persona: just a category of shameful women, never to be encountered in the light of day. In the public arena she is the untouchable one, and yet, here she is intruding into a private party, and, horror of horrors, she is publicly touching, in a so-called sentimental way, the very person of Jesus.  She knew herself as a public sinner. But in fact, she becomes a public manifestation of deep vulnerability, one who has no voice, not even self-talk, but who knows deep down who she really is. She is the truest version of herself: the beloved one—and no words are needed or can find expression except in action that is symbolic of the wordless nature of the soul.

Although I would like to end here with wordless contemplation of the deep meaning of this encounter between Jesus and the nameless woman, who is portraying, in fact, a part of everyone here, homilies are meant to use words, sputtering as they may be when it comes to soul-realities, to the kingdom of God in our midst. I would like to offer some words I find meaningful, inspired by Henri Nouwen:

Prayer is encounter with God.  It is not looking at oneself, nor is it self-talk to God; it is not about a little inner seminar with God, thinking profound thoughts.  It is rather careful attentiveness to the Presence of Love as personified in this woman and Jesus this morning.  Like this woman, we are called to present ourselves as we are—an unedited version of our feelings and our thoughts, our very being—to the One who receives them and responds to them with compassion and unconditional love.  God knows our brokenness, but also our minds and hearts, our goodness and beauty, our darkness and our light. 

May the psalmist pray in us: “O Lord, you search me and you know me. You know my resting and my rising.  You discern my purposes from afar…all my ways are open to you…See that I follow not the wrong path and lead me in the path of life eternal.” (cf. Psalm 139)