I’m just back from Annual Conference, which explains the tardiness of this epistle. At least I hope it does. Actually, my first thought was to send a note saying I’m not going to write anything this week and just go to bed. Three days of denominational debate and institutional shenanigans are enough to weary the strongest of us. Yet, to be fair there were moments of glory too. Yes, indeed, I admitted that. Some of them were small and interpersonal, friends and colleagues, some of them were grand and wonderful, worship and ministry celebrated. The theme of the conference, because you can’t have a conference that’s just Conference, you gotta have a theme, was “Be Hope: Embraced, Lived, Realized.”
Be Hope. There were profound moments of hope shared. Patterned after the TED talks, we had Hope Talks scattered throughout the order of the day. Some of them were inspiring, some of them were idea generating, all worth the time. I’m thinking of adapting the idea for Aldersgate. Inviting members to share in different ways signs of the hope that sustains them, the faith that transforms them. Not sure how to do that just yet. So if you have an idea or just want to talk about it, let me know.
Perhaps the most powerful moments were right at the end. Our Bishop, Michael Coyner, retires this year, so this was his final ordination service. That added a poignancy to the whole event. The night before we had a rather long celebration of his life and ministry, ending with all those ordained by him coming forward at the end. His influence was visible in that body. Now added to it are those who were ordained Saturday morning at the conclusion of conference. All of us who have been there with those on that stage, leaned in to that moment with memory and hope. Then, just before the benediction, there comes the ritual of “The Giving and Receiving Appointments.” This uniquely United Methodist moment is where we say yes again to serving in the Church, to claiming the appointment we’ve been given, and fulfilling the call in the place where we are sent. Some of those are receiving a first appointment, or a new appointment. Many more, most in fact, are reclaiming the appointment they’ve been serving. We’re staying put. Trying to be hope where we have been.
Part of the ritual is confessional, at least in intent. “I now reverently accept my appointment with a glad mind and will, and pray that I shall be worthy of the call to the ministry...” I’m aware that staying put is good news for some and not as good news for others who care about the church. And I question my worthiness on a regular basis. And yet it seems that the cabinet and the bishop, the church and I hope to believe the Christ who calls us all says that I still have ministry to perform in staying put. We can still be hope for one another and for the community and world around us as we seek to make disciples, as we seek to feed hungry people.
But it seems we need something else to make all this happen. Yes, the Spirit and Word, worship and discipleship and mission. Yes, we need that constantly. But there is something else we need in order to be the community of Christ that we are called to be. In order the be the hope that we could be, that is within us to be, we need something else. Something simple and yet profound. Something easy and yet often more difficult than we can imagine.
Luke 7:36-8:3 One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee's house and took his place at the table. 37 And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. 38 She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment.
39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, "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." 40 Jesus spoke up and said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Teacher," he replied, "Speak." 41 "A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?" 43 Simon answered, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt." And Jesus said to him, "You have judged rightly." 44 Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. 46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little." 48 Then he said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."
49 But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?" 50 And he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
8:1 Soon afterwards he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him, 2 as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, 3 and Joanna, the wife of Herod's steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.
“Do you see this woman?” Jesus asks some really obvious questions sometimes. Did you ever notice that? It’s almost like he was rubbing Simon’s nose in it. You see this woman? Of course! He hadn’t seen anything else since she walked in. She was ruining his party, his clean home, his ethical standards and most of all, his opinion of this roaming teacher of parables and blessings, this miracle worker with a call to a different way of living. If He really was something special, He would know what kind of woman this is. He would know she is making Him dirty, she is fouling Him right here in my dining room!
So, for his mental debate he gets a story. Jesus knew what Simon was thinking, not because he could read his mind, but because he could read his face. It was twisted with disgust, like he had tasted something so bitter it pursed more than just his lips. Simon, here’s one. Guests of honor at fancy dinner parties were supposed to pay for the privilege by telling stories, by making riddles and testing the intelligence of the crowd and especially the host. Jubilee year, debts are cancelled, who’s happier? A simple enough riddle. I suppose, Simon drawls, feeling unchallenged by the game, the who had a greater debt canceled. Lobbing it back into your court, Jesus. Ready for the next one. C’mon, you can do better, Rabbi!
But Jesus changed the game. This wasn’t a test of intellect, it was a test of obedience to a God of hospitality and inclusion. You see this woman? Well, no, to be honest, he didn’t. Oh, he thought he did and probably nodded when Jesus gestures toward her. But he didn’t really. He didn’t see the woman. He saw the intrusion. He saw the sin. He saw the embarrassment, the nuisance. He wanted rid of her. Jesus wanted to include her. To welcome her.
She loved much, Jesus said. Because she experienced forgiveness. But Simon didn’t have a clue. Didn’t know, didn’t offer, didn’t think much of forgiveness. Oh, he asked for it, read the prayer of confession like everyone else in his pew, though he was pretty sure he didn’t need it. But he didn’t believe in it. He didn’t live it. He didn’t love like he knew anything about forgiving or being forgiven.
Our text includes three verses from the next chapter that don’t seem necessary. Except that they are about loving because of forgiveness. They are about being hope in tangible ways. About letting forgiveness turn them into generous givers and supporters of the ministry. I wonder if Luke wanted us to imagine the that unnamed woman in chapter seven became one of the women who being chapter eight with such hope and possibility. She could have been a woman of means, there is that alabaster jar which Luke doesn’t quite identify like Matthew and Mark do, but it could have been expensive. She might have been a woman of means, and a past, and a joy of knowing forgiveness and love and acceptance. So, she stayed put there at the feet of Jesus. Staying put only makes sense if we live in and with forgiveness. Because that’s the only way we can be hope for the church and the world. I’m staying put. I hope you are too.
Shalom,
Derek
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