
Sermon, June 17, 2001
2nd Sunday of Pentecost, Proper 6, Year C
The Rev. Lowell E. Grisham
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Gospel -- Luke 7:36-50 -- A Woman Anoints Jesus' Feet
Other
than traveling together back home, the last thing that we did on our choir's
trip to England was to attend Evensong at the famous King's College in Cambridge
this past Tuesday. Their choir of men and boys is among the most heralded internationally.
Maybe you've heard them on Christmas Eve when their Festival of Lessons and
Carols is broadcast live around the world, including here in Fayetteville on
our own public radio station KUAF. For a pilgrimage of musicians, hearing the
King's College Choir seemed like
such an appropriate finale.
The performance was exquisite. Absolute perfection. And yet, when Kathy and I were talking about it later, we found we both had similar reactions. The word both of us used to describe the Evensong service was "severe." It seemed technically perfect, but joyless. More performance than prayer. Powerful talent. But as far as we could tell, no passion.
I contrasted my memory of that Evensong event with the joy and passion I saw
in Linda Kelly's eyes as she talked about her boy's choir in Charleston, West
Virginia. She's received a grant to develop a choir of children from among the
most challenged neighborhoods in Charleston. Using the same Royal School of
Music techniques that the King's College boys have been taught, Linda has trained
a choir of inner city children, most of whom are black. She laughed and her
eyes danced as she described how her choristers add a few notes and some extra
rhythm to their classical pieces. Recently, when they sang in a city event,
she had to beg the other director to let them sway a little bit because they
just can't stay still when they sing.
I don't think it's a coincidence that much of the passion in art and in politics
comes from people who are relatively powerless. From gospel music to liberation
theology, the world receives energizing passion from those who are outside of
the circles of power and influence. And, all to often, the powerful spend their
own energy protecting their own privileges, in the process becoming passionless
and even sometimes, severe. I don't title my sermons. But if I did, I would
call this one "Power and Passion." The Gospel story today begins in
the home of a man of power,
Simon
the Pharisee. He has invited Jesus to eat with him, but their meal is interrupted
by an uninvited woman "who was a sinner." In an act of almost embarrassing
emotion, she anoints Jesus' feet with spices, weeping and bathing his feet with
her tears; drying them with her hair. I would never do anything like that! Neither
would you. People like us are uncomfortable around such public displays of passionate
emotion.
Simon
the Pharisee looks at the scene, and with a dispassionate eye judges it. (That's
the prerogative of the powerful. They can stand back and judge.) This is bad
form, he thinks. Jesus should know; this woman is a sinner.
But Jesus willingly accepts the unorthodox actions of the woman. He is not embarrassed by her passion, but instead seems moved with his own compassion. Gently he tells a story to Simon, a story like so many others that speaks of the extravagant passion and compassion of God -- a compassion that is released and activated by what he calls "faith." He tells the woman at his feet, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
As the scene ends, there is a shift in power. This apparently powerless woman
is actually more powerful than Simon the Pharisee. She is free in ways that
he is not. She is free to express her passion powerfully, and when she does,
she becomes empowered by Jesus. "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
What is this faith that she has expressed? It is certainly not some form of
belief or doctrine. She's made no statement of faith. No, hers is faith as a
verb, an action. Imagine the trust it takes to wash the feet of a stranger with
your tears and your hair, hoping your act will be accepted. She expresses herself
in a symbolic act of emotional intensity that communicates her love and humility
and dependence, all forms of apparent powerlessness. Her offering of passion
combined with faith -- humble, dependent trust -- results in her divine empowerment.
Faith + Passion = Empowerment.
I
think that's a picture of our condition. We come here to worship acknowledging
our powerlessness. With humility and dependence upon God we express our faith
as trust in God's divine love. But that needs to be more than a head trip, an
intellectual admission of dependence. It needs to come from the heart as well.
It needs passion, emotional intensity. When our heart brings our trust to God,
we leave this place empowered. "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
Passion and Power are balanced. That is what we call divine Empowerment.
But passion and power are easily abused. In our first lesson we heard part of the story of King David's scandal. Using his political power as king to promote his passion as sexual desire, he has conspired to kill Uriah. His misuse of power and passion results in death. Yet, for most of his life, David is described as "a man after God's heart." When David lives dependently upon God's will, God uses his passion to empower him as a leader.
In the Epistle reading we have another story of the abuse of power and passion.
The congregation in Galatia has become split. Those who are Jewish Christians
are making a power play of moral superiority over the Gentile members of the
church. They have a passion for being right, and are casting a shadow over their
friends who aren't as right as they are. Paul's answer for the conflict that
divides this community is to remind them of their common condition. He calls
them to humility and union because all of
them are sinners alike in the presence of God. United in humble dependence upon
God's mercy, they can be empowered by Christ's life.
We see the abuse of power and passion in our culture as well. Those with power,
like David, too often pursue their own lusts and needs, abusing the weak and
vulnerable. And all of us at various levels of social power try tojustify ourselves
as morally superior to others with whom we disagree. There is nothing so sterile
as someone who is obsessed with his rightness and lacking passionate humility.
The
scripture today points us to a better way. The woman who washes Jesus' feet
is a metaphor for passion and power. Like her, we can live lives of divine empowerment.
When we are able to offer ourselves passionately with humble trust, we too can
receive the gift of divine empowerment. Bring yourself to the altar today in
that spirit. Acknowledge your humble dependence upon God. Unite yourself with
every other human being as one who is in need of God's grace. And do that with
passion. Let your heart overflow with love and trust. Such a heart is open for
God's power to become real in you. Faith + Passion = Empowerment. Bring your
dependence
and your passion to this holy place, and hear God's word to you: "Your
faith has saved you; go in peace."