Extravagant Forgiveness

2 Samuel 11:26-12:10,13-15; Psalm 32 Galatians 2:15-21; Luke 7:36-8:3

Our Lord has a soft spot for the unrespectable. They’re his people. Yes, yes, Jesus doesn’t play favorites. But he does really. And the sinful, the ridiculous, the unrespectable, the outcast and picked on are Jesus’ people without a doubt.

The story of the woman with the alabaster jar was a story clearly cherished by the early church. It’s the story of a woman who comes to a dinner party to anoint Jesus with expensive, extravagant ointment, “pure nard, very costly.” It is a story found in all four gospel accounts. You might wish to compare the four stories for yourself (Matthew 26:6-13; Mark 14:3-9; Luke 7:36-50; John 12:1-8). When you do read them side by side, you will notice a few things:

The woman is described differently by the storytellers. In Matthew and Mark she is identified simply as “a woman.” In Luke she is a “woman of the city, who was a sinner.” In John she is named as Mary, the sister of Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.

In each narrative the woman pours expensive anointment on Jesus. In Matthew and Mark the ointment was poured over Jesus’ head while in Luke and John it was poured on Jesus’ feet.

In each narrative somebody protests the woman’s anointing of Jesus and in each telling of Jesus defends the action of the woman.

It is here, in the protestations, where the narrative telling reveals a striking difference. Now, normally, one would expect the gospel of John to be the one narrative that stands out from the others; but, in this case, it is not John but Luke who provides the different contour and context.

In Matthew, Mark, and John, the protests occur because of the value of the ointment which could have been “sold for a large sum, and the money given to the poor” (Matthew 26:9). Luke, on the other hand, has the protest come from the Simon, the Pharisee, the host of the party, who says, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” Additionally, in Matthew, Mark, and John, the story is set as a precursor to the passion narrative so that the anointing is a preparation for Jesus’ burial. In Luke, the story is not set immediately before Jesus' passion and is not tied directly to Jesus' death. The reader, therefore, will not connect the anointing to Jesus’ burial, Instead, Luke paints with a color of his own creation, fashioning a new story by making the scene the house of a Pharisee, mixing it with a parable, and by placing it after two healing miracles and before the parables of the sower. In doing so, Luke provides us with a startling image of forgiveness projected directly from the heart of God.

From the start, we notice that all of the stories agree that the ointment the woman used to anoint Jesus was expensive. But it wasn’t just expensive, it was extravagant, so costly that those who witnessed the act of anointing were shocked, remembering it well and keeping it in the memory of the church. It's the extravagance of the story that draws us in.

Luke makes the connection between this extravagantly odd action in Simon's house to something that's extravagantly odd about God. For Pharisees like Simon, God’s righteousness cannot endure sinners but can remain only with those who uphold the law. Jesus teaches a different lesson as he says to Simon, “I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.” And then to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

In this passage, Luke make a direct connection between grace and gratitude as Jesus reveals himself to be the one who has God's authority to forgive sins and as the one who shares God's generous intention to heal life, restore relationships and forgive the sinful.

But is it too extravagant to be possible? Let's face it, even as Christians, we have a tendency to lean toward Simon's interpretation of scripture, understanding God’s justice as simple and clear. Justice rather than forgiveness is more practical and easier in the real world. That is the tough challenge for us when we see the alabaster jar and smell the ointment in the air. Are the core values of the Christian life – grace, love, mercy, forgiveness – really possible in our world? Or are they simply things that we hope God will bring about some day, one day in the future?

Have you witnessed extravagant love like the woman who anointed Jesus' feet? The communion of Saints is full of such stories.

The Mennonites have a hero, a martyr named Dirk Willems who died in 1569. Willems was like any other Anabaptist who believed in adult baptism (rejecting infant baptism), the separation of church and state, and the practice of non-violence in all circumstances. It was illegal in his Dutch home to be a Mennonite so Willems was thrown in prison. One night he managed to escape by using a rope of knotted rags. The moat surrounding the castle prison had iced over. Thought the ice was thin, Willems had lost a lot of weight in prison and managed to cross over. In the meantime, a prison guard had come after him. The guard wasn’t so lucky on the ice. Falling through into the cold water, the guard yelled for help. Though nearly to safety, Willems turned back and pulled the guard to safety. Willems was promptly recaptured and was shortly thereafter burned at the stake. Oddly extravagant forgiveness and love.

Do you remember in October 2006 when a shooting happened at a one-room Amish schoolhouse? The gunman shot ten girls, killing five of them. I remember how America watched in shock and disbelief at the outpouring of forgiveness and reconciliation that the Amish gave. Oddly extravagant forgiveness and love.

I recently read a book by Sara Miles called Take This Bread. Sara Miles had lived her life as an atheist. Her parents didn’t go to church and never had Sara baptized, not because they were lazy or mean, but because they were true unbelievers. Sara traveled the world, she experienced new and different cultures, she saw the ravages of violence and war as well as the beauty of healing and forgiveness. But Sara remained an unbeliever. That is until she found herself in a little Episcopal church in San Francisco where someone handed her a piece of bread. “The body of Christ.” And she took her first bite and her life was changed. The body given for her! Her mind and heart were impelled to believe; but, it wasn’t just belief it was love and hope and joy. And her new faith-filled heart impelled her body to believe as well. She started a food pantry. The work she did she saw as holy work. The food she handed out, she saw as holy food. The people who came to work and the people who came to receive, she saw as holy people. Oddly extravagant forgiveness and love.

Maybe we need to stop reading this story as if it’s the “HOLY BIBLE” (read here as some mysterious, ethereal book from way out there, beyond us). Maybe, instead, we should read this story as the intimate offering that it is. It’s the burning bush in reverse – humanity approaching the Divine with tender openness.

She is pouring herself out to him, with all that she is, and all that she has because Jesus has poured himself out to her with all that he is and all that he has – complete forgiveness. Jesus is here for the sinners. Jesus has opened the Kingdom of God to the riff-raff. This makes me a little uncomfortable and I imagine it makes many of us just a little uncomfortable. I’ve tried very hard in my life not to be riff-raff. As I’ve lived my life, entered adulthood, and joined the league of parents I’ve tried as hard as I can to be as respectable as possible. I try hard not to disrespect the unrespectable, but I also try and keep a comfortable distance because that sort of thing rubs off.

But, our Lord has a soft spot for the unrespectable. They’re his people. Yes, yes, Jesus doesn’t play favorites.. But he does really. And the sinful, the ridiculous, the unrespectable, the outcast and picked on are Jesus’ people without a doubt. Not that Jesus doesn’t hang with the respectable folks as well. He does, after all, have dinner with a Pharisee and befriending Joseph of Arimathea. It’s just that the only respectable people that Jesus seems to respect are the ones who know that their respectability is all a load of hooey.

We all sin and fall short of the glory of God, and the distance between the respectable and the unrespectable is nonexistent in the eyes of God. Had Simon the Pharisee looked with fondness upon the sinful woman who began to anoint Jesus and offered her a chair and a meal – just as he had welcomed Jesus – maybe this guy would have some churches named after him.

Here’s where the icon of discipleship shines through: The disciple invites Jesus in, giving him a chair at the table and eating holy food with holy people. But when the wine is poured, there are tears poured as well and the air is thick with incense and ointment. It is the woman who sees that it is Jesus who is holy and the door needs to be always open for the lost.

As for me, I’m with her.