Sermon - 3rd Sunday after Pentecost

Sermon Luke 7:36f
Anointing at the House of Simon the Pharisee

Jesus said to Simon, “Do you see this woman”.

One day a friend paid a visit to Michelangelo. He found the great sculptor chipping away at a huge block of marble. The floor was covered with bits of marble and dust. It was not a pretty scene.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” the friend asked.

“I’m releasing the angel imprisoned in this marble,” Michelangelo replied.

Michelangelo, like all artists, had the gift of seeing - of seeing the potential in what others see only as commonplace or even useless and ugly.

“Do you see this woman?’ – Jesus asks – and of course the answer is ‘No”. Simon has not seen the woman at all. He has seen only his own prejudices and assumptions about her.

Simon looked at the woman and saw only that she was one of ‘those kind of women’ – someone to be avoided, lest they contaminate. Of course the fear of ‘contamination’ lies behind all kinds of prejudice in our world, which grows from fear, and leads to violence and hatred. I can still recall the language that was used at the time of women’s first ordination, which spoke of women priests ‘tainting the altars’ when they presided. We have not come so very far in two thousand years!

Commentators have for centuries implied that the woman was a prostitute. This in itself reflects a tendency to assume that a woman’s sin will be sexual. At the time Jews regarded many people as ‘sinners; for example those who worked as servants in the households of Gentiles; or those who had a disability or mental or physical illness, which was held to be a judgment from God.

We do not know the nature of this woman’s ‘sinfulness’ – what we do know was that it was obvious to Simon.

He was afraid of being made ‘unclean’ by her, and was astonished that Jesus would let himself be touched by her. For him, it was a clear indication that Jesus could not in fact be a prophet; and so he begins to judge Jesus also.

If we are honest, most of us have behaved like Simon at times. It has been useful to the evolution of the human species to be able to discern difference swiftly, and hence be ready to defend ourselves against potential attack. Our fight/flight responses are well developed.

If you don’t believe me, on your way home today just notice how often you look out for potential hazards – traffic, other people, raised paving stones. We are very, very good at protecting ourselves and keeping ourselves separate from things that we see as possibly harmful.

We are much less good at appreciating what is around us; noticing and giving thanks for things in our environment, and seeing with eyes of trust those who surround us.

It has been well said that the longest journey some of us will ever make is from our head to our heart. We can see with our physical eyes – the ones in our head; but we are sometimes quite blind, when asked to see with the eyes of our heart.

This is a contrast that is embodied in today’s reading in the persons of Simon and the woman with the alabaster jar. Simon is all in his head. He knows what is right. He keeps the law. He knows who this woman is and he is able to judge who Jesus is on the basis of his response to her. He is not a bad person – indeed he is someone as Jesus story illustrates, with little obvious need of forgiveness. But he is not living fully. He has allowed the rational and the legalistic to be so dominant, that he is blind to the appeal of the heart.

The woman on the other hand is all heart. She knows she is well outside the laws, and she has probably never received anything in life from the religious people but condemnation. Yet with her whole bodily self – kneeling, weeping, caressing, kissing – she shows her love; the love that comes from having been deeply forgiven, which let’s her receive yet deeper forgiveness and release.

Jesus has infinite compassion for them both. We see this easily in his treatment of the woman, whom he allows to touch him and anoint him, and then looks directly at her and offers her words of forgiveness and hope.

But it is true of Simon too. Jesus does not condemn Simon for his prejudice and lack of compassion. Rather he helps him to see things differently. Firstly he introduces the topic by telling a story – using the kind of teaching language that Simon could relate to easily.

Then he asks a ‘feeling’ question – “Now which of them will love him more?”

Poor Simon, he’s not used to feeling questions! But he does manage an answer – though from his head; “I suppose (thinking word!) the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.”

And Jesus replies with gentle affirmation for his intellectual ability “You have judged rightly”.

Only then does he invite Simon to see the woman and her actions correctly, revealing how she has offered the hospitality that Simon has withheld.

In this his purpose is to build her up, and let Simon see her actions in familiar terms; not to pass judgement on Simon. He does not say for example, “You don’t think you need to be forgiven much, so you do not love much” – he says “But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Like the prophet Nathan with David, he allows Simon to come to his own place of repentance – proving, if proof were needed, his place in that line of prophetic teaching.

Now we don’t know how Simon responded, because the text does not tell us. We know that some of the others at table are unable to get past the head questions, “Who is this that even forgives sins.” they ask – missing the whole point of the encounter that has just taken place before their very eyes.

But I would like to think that Jesus redeemed Simon; that he helped him to see in ways that meant he could never go back to his narrow judgmental, excluding ways. And I think that for two reasons. Firstly Simon did in fact have some initial openness to Jesus – otherwise he would not have invited him to dinner – even if he did not give him the proper treatment that he would have given an honoured guest. Now given that Simon lived mostly in his head, it was probably an intellectual openness – a curiosity to see what this renegade teacher would actually do and say at a ‘respectable’ dinner party. But it was openness never the less. And then the story tells us what Simon said ‘to himself’. Now very possibly the author of the Gospel infers what Simon is thinking from Jesus’ responses, but logically the only person who would have known this for sure is Simon himself, whose thoughts are then recorded in a Christian document. So perhaps both the principle characters in this story found forgiveness and release that day.


We do not always see things very well. And when we act on what we think we see, it can cause all kinds of problems. I am sure some of you have had the experience of sitting in the optometrist’s chair and reading a letter ‘S’, only to discover when the lens is corrected that it was in fact a letter ‘F’. God is always seeking to correct our vision; to help us to see better with the eyes of our hearts.

At every Eucharist God invites us to supper. He bathes us in forgiveness, anoints us with His Spirit, kisses us repeatedly in the words and actions and sacraments. I wonder half the time, ‘do we even notice?” And do we come with the expectation that we will hear Him speak to us, directly, saying “I have something to say to you?”. For these are things that we can only see and hear with the eyes and ears of our hearts.

I suspect that often we do not really see at all.


Yet God in Christ continues to offer himself to us, as the woman continued to anoint Jesus, whether or not there is a response, because the outpouring of love demands it. And we come, bringing whatever we can to the table – the gifts of heads and hearts and hands, however inadequate.

As Claude Mostowik has written, at the Lord’s table,
“We give Jesus things he does not need - our despair, fear, anger, cynicism, lack of hope, inadequacy or frustration – but all are accepted along with all the better things we can give. We might come un-prepared, yet Jesus accepts our inadequate offering. Jesus reflects the passion in God’s heart.

We need to recognise that the Jesus, who dined with the people who walk on the wrong side of the street, also dined with the powerful – if he was not to be guilty of reverse prejudice. They too need to be included in God’s reign.

Today’s gospel resonates for marginalised groups: women, Indigenous people, gays and lesbians, (and) people who are living with disabilities” to name but a few.

But it resonates also for the Simons’ of our world – for those who might not think they were much in need of forgiveness. For Jesus invites everyone to the table – His is a gospel of radical inclusivity, which reaches out to the rich as well as the poor; to those who consider themselves righteous as well as those who know they are not and excludes no-one.

Today the gospel invites us to the table. Whether like the woman, we feel ourselves condemned by others, and perhaps even by ourselves and unworthy to be present; or whether like Simon our eyes are unseeing and we do not perceive our own need, we are still welcome.

And of course, both Simon and the woman are present in all our hearts, always, at one and the same time. Part of us thinks we have it right and tends to condemn others; and part of us knows our desperate need of love and forgiveness.

And Jesus constantly invites us, as he invited Simon, to look on ourselves and others with new eyes – with the eyes of compassion, with the eyes of the heart.

Jesus looks at each of us and says, “Do you see this woman? Do you see this man?” and helps us to see ourselves and each other with new eyes.

May we open the eyes of our hearts to all that He would show us. In the name of the Christ who sets us free. Amen.