Luke’s
story of the woman anointing Jesus’ feet is noticeably different from all
the other Gospels, and it’s very helpful not to conflate it with the others.
Yet, it was very likely that Jesus was interrupted and responded in quite similar
ways many times, because that was the type of person Jesus was. In Luke, the setting
is not close to Jerusalem, but at a dinner party in one of the small towns around
Galilee, and is as much a story about the host as it is about the woman. Perhaps
Simon invited Jesus more out of curiosity than out of admiration or honor. One
would have thought that if Simon really wanted to honor Jesus, he would have had
a servant wash and anoint Jesus as he first entered the house, but it is hard
to know how much to read into that.
It
is likely that Simon took pride in his hospitality. He would not want his reputation
to suffer by being known as an ungracious or inept host. The woman who crashed
his party was surely an unexpected interruption. He looked in horror as this woman
of the streets, made a beeline for Jesus. It happened so fast and Simon was likely
so shocked, that there was no attempt to stop the woman from reaching Jesus and
falling at his feet. Everyone, embarrassed by the emotional entities of this poor
woman, just froze and waited for Jesus to react.
Jesus
was neither embarrassed by the woman’s great need, angry at her intrusion,
nor surprised by the encounter. Instead, Jesus diffused all the forces that could
have led to a harsh rebuke of the woman’s importunity. He gave her a long
and knowing, kind smile. Jesus was a good judge of people. He knew when people
were just pulling his chain and when they were sincere. He knew that she desperate,
and he was her last hope. Jesus did not scold, probe or interrogate. He was not
condescending or patronizing. He simply lifted her up and gave her a blessing
of God’s grace. As he held her arms, she knew that he still considered her
part of the human race. He treated her with dignity. She was not garbage to him,
and as he touched her skin, she understood that God had touched her heart.
Simon,
by this time, had recovered from the shock of the intrusion. He was certainly
embarrassed and feared this woman would make a mockery of all his preparations.
Who did she think she was, barging into a private party given by one the town’s
leading citizens? She smelled and had dirty fingernails. What would the guests
be saying about this incident tomorrow? Why did Jesus seem to almost encourage
her? Why was he not repulsed by her forwardness and inappropriate emotion? Why
did he smile and gently embrace her? If he were such a good judge of people and
really could look into people’s hearts, surely he would have scolded the
behavior and life style of this woman.
In
one sense, the story confirms that Jesus could see into people’s hearts
and was truly a prophet, for Jesus knows what Simon is thinking. The focus of
the story shifts to the conversation between Simon and Jesus. By this time in
his ministry, Jesus knew that he was being widely criticized for being too welcoming
to those, “normal” people would avoid, if not condemn. Jesus was just
a little too friendly or too easy on those who had put themselves outside the
accepted moral code of their culture. Yet, Jesus did not try to humiliate Simon
in front of his guests. Characteristically, Jesus told a story and then asked
a question.
I
know that in my own life, annoying interruptions usually come at the wrong time.
Why can’t people be responsible for their own actions? Why don’t people
see the obvious consequences of their behavior? Why, why, why! I know how I would
feel if someone who could not control herself, bothered me as I was entertaining
someone I was trying to impress. When we have a parish dinner, not really a formal
banquet, of course, and Loaves & Fishes has a luncheon instead of the supper
meal, we still get guests who come at the usual time for supper, despite the signs
and numerous announcements.
Sometimes
I wonder if the Gospel stories do not subtly meet us again and again. Self-righteousness
and anger often drown out the balm of God’s grace, a balm I am both capable
and able to sooth on. The ministry of hospitality is not simply practiced with
people we hope will be our close friends, but with those whom we will never be
close, but who will come and go out of lives, who nonetheless need a word of blessing.
