61707

Sermon #1

For Sunday, June 17, 2007

Lake Murray Presbyterian Church

Austin Shelley

Explosion of Gratitude

Psalm 5; Luke 7:36-50; Matthew 15:22-28

Opening Remarks:

It’s no secret that today marks the first time I will preach a sermon. I’m both extremely frightened by and extremely grateful for this opportunity. Many of you can understand the “scary” part as you would gladly give everything you own for the promise of never having to stand where I am today. The exciting part is the promise that the Holy Spirit is with us in this place and that God breathes life upon us as we hear and proclaim God’s holy Word. At the same time, it’s intimidating to be charged with the task of wrestling with the Scripture, of thinking of something significant and hopeful to say. As I prepared for today, I kept asking myself, “Am I remaining faithful to the word of God?” I was so afraid of making a mistake that my attempts to prepare for today were paralyzed…until I learned a valuable lesson from my 4-year-old daughter that helped me get over my fear. She was scheduled for a well child check up (including dreaded vaccines) at the pediatrician’s office. She was nervous about the visit. I matter-of-factly explained why immunizations are important and packed some princess band-aids to take along. She asked questions all day leading up to the appointment until she finally said, “Mommy, I’ll be OK if you hold my hand.” So even though it’s sermon number one instead of sermon number 1001, and I’ll probably look back on it someday and think, “What was I thinking?” we’ll pray that God will hold our hands, and when God holds our hands, everything’s going to be OK. Will you pray with me, please?

Loving God, on this day and every day, open our eyes to see Your will, incline our ears to hear Your Word, and most of all, Lord, hold our hands. Amen.

Our Old Testament reading this morning is Psalm 5 verses 8-12. The bulletin lists verses 1-8, but I am changing my mind at the last possible second. Listen now for God’s Word to us:

Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness

Because of my enemies;

Make your way straight before me.

For there is no truth in their mouths;

Their hearts are destruction;

Their throats are open graves;

They flatter with their tongues.

Make them bear their guilt, O God;

Let them fall by their own counsels;

Because of their many transgressions, cast them out,

For they have rebelled against you.

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice;

Let them ever sing for joy.

Spread your protection over them,

So that those who love your name may exult in you.

For you bless the righteous, O Lord;

You cover them with favor as with a shield.

The Word of the Lord. (Thanks be to God.)

The gospel lesson for today is Luke, Chapter 7, verses 36-50. I will not be reading chapter 8, verses 1-3 as the bulletin indicates. Again, I have changed my mind. I’ll try not to do that next time. Listen for God’s Word to us:

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. 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. 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. 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.” Jesus spoke up and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he replied, “speak.” “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” And Jesus said to him, “You have judged rightly.” 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. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 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.” Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

The word of the Lord. (Thanks be to God.)

Where do we see ourselves in the story? This is almost always a good question to ask ourselves as we read because where we see ourselves determines in large part how we interpret the story. To find out, let’s look at a few key folks. Simon is a Pharisee, a law abiding, law emphasizing priest of sorts. Apparently he is open to Jesus and to what Jesus has to say. He invites Jesus into his home for a meal, after all, and a little later, he calls Jesus “Teacher” and invites him to speak. By all accounts, Simon seems to be a pretty decent guy. Maybe we can see ourselves in Simon. We try to do the right thing. We invite Jesus into our homes and lives, and we aim to be open to what he has to say to us. Yes, I can identify with Simon. In contrast to Simon, the woman in the story hasn’t been following the rules. Upon introducing her into the gospel narrative, the writer immediately qualifies the woman’s introduction with the words “who was a sinner” as if to clue us in to the fact that Simon’s assessment of the woman isn’t at all off target. Nonetheless, the woman’s actions we witness in the story are almost as hard to ignore as Jesus’ grace-filled response to her. Perhaps there have been times in our lives when we could have easily related to the woman—times when we have recognized our own desperate need for forgiveness that led us to show an indescribable expression of gratitude. “Expression” is an interesting word, isn’t it? We often use the phrase “expression of gratitude.” Today is Father’ s Day, and so today we are probably thinking about expressing gratitude more so than other days, particularly to those who have fathered us and to those who have nurtured us as fathers nurture children. Expressions of gratitude go something like this, “Dear so-and-so, thank you for the lovely dinner last Thursday night. The food was excellent as was the company” or “Lake Murray Presbyterian Church would like to thank you for your contribution to the Celebration Garden fund.” Expressions of gratitude are nice gestures, but they don’t require too much of our time or energy. We find such an expression in our gospel lesson today. Simon the Pharisee invites Jesus to his home for a meal, for table fellowship. This is hospitality, not to be taken lightly in the context its first century setting. An invitation to a meal and an acceptance of such an invitation was a sign of favor. So here we have an invitation to dinner. Not much effort involved—an expression of gratitude. But what we see in the unnamed woman in the story is something altogether different. The word expression doesn’t really do justice to her washing Jesus’ feet with her tears, drying them with her hair, or anointing him with ointment. We can’t package this outpouring in a neat and tidy thank you note. Though the analogy isn’t a perfect fit, today let’s think about an explosion of gratitude—the kind of response to Jesus that the woman in the story illustrates. It’s important to point out, as Jesus does, that the woman isn’t forgiven because of what she does in the story; rather, the woman’s lavish acts are the result of the grace she’s received. Listen again to Jesus as he makes this point. He says “Her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.” Did you hear that? Jesus affirms that the appropriate response to grace is lavish attention to the work and purpose God has in store for us. This concept is reflected even in our order of worship. If you take a look at your bulletin on any given Sunday in this church, you’ll see the heading “Give thanks to God: God’s people RESPOND.” Like an explosion that cannot be contained, our outpouring of the love that was first given to us is not to be limited. When you sing a hymn of praise to God in thanksgiving for love of God, don’t hold back! As Walter says, if you’re going to make a mistake, make a good one. In the same way, the woman in Luke 7 cannot contain her gratitude. You have probably experienced something like this before. Have you ever been “in love?” (You have to say it like that, the way my sixth graders used to say it when I taught middle school.) If so, you know the overwhelming feeling. Words pour into letters and telephone conversations. Scientists tell us that being “in love” actually alters us physically. Similarly, if you are a parent, think of the outpouring of unspeakable gratitude you felt when your child was born. When Mark and I were expecting each of our children, I carefully planned what I would say to them upon their birth, but when they arrived, I was speechless. The tears of joy overwhelmed me, all I could do was think “Wow! God loves us like this! God calls us CHILDREN!” To put it in biblical terms, my cup overflowed. I expect that maybe the woman in the gospel lesson today had a similar experience. This is just imagining, but I like to imagine that she had a well thought out speech for Jesus, outlining what his forgiveness meant to her, how it changed her way of living, how it altered her perspective and transformed who she was, but when she encountered forgiveness in the flesh, the words failed. All she could do was kneel at the feet of Jesus and let her gratitude flow like a river flooding its banks.

From a practical standpoint, we can’t go around weeping all the time, exploding in gratitude like overflowing fountains, but what is it exactly that keeps us from sharing the love of God without pause, or at least not a bit more often? One reason is that we deceive ourselves about where we are in relation to the perfection of Christ, and we use others’ failures to elevate ourselves in our own minds. In this way, we are a lot like Simon. In his heart, he echoes the words of the psalmist we heard from today, “Make them bear their guilt, O God. Let them fall by their own counsels. Because of their many transgressions, cast them out! For they have rebelled against you!” Simon has a preconceived notion about who’s in and who’s out. He’s working hard at keeping the Law with a capital L; the woman, at least according to him, isn’t. He will gain God’s favor; she will not. It’s that simple. Or is it? Jesus turns Simon’s notion on its head. In light of Romans 3:23 which states that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, we find ourselves not sitting comfortably with Simon in his seat at the table, but with the woman on the floor, washing the feet of Jesus. It isn’t a bad place to be, especially when we consider the tenderness with which Jesus addresses her.

Unfortunately, the others in the room don’t share Jesus’ affection for the poured-out heart of the woman. And maybe this is another reason we hesitate when we are called to respond to the grace of God with great love: in doing so, we must confront our fear that the world will perceive us as foolish, naïve, even wasteful. Giving of your time, talents, and resources to others, says the world, is stupid. You have to look out for number one. Let other people take care of themselves. To this mentality, Jesus says NO! Give to others, says Jesus, so that they will know my love. If you love me, feed my sheep. This difference is true on the collective level as well as on the individual one, of course. In a recent article in The Christian Century, Barbara Brown Taylor speaks of the kind of sacrificial giving that the church as a whole is called to do. She says, “All I can figure is that any body of believers whose faith is funded by a giving God will find their lives by giving, too—not reasonably so that there is plenty left over for sheet music and utility bills, but lavishly, so that the survival of the institution is always and blessedly in question.” Her thought of giving all we have is mirrored in the paradox of Jesus’ words in Matthew 16:25, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” This idea leads us to face the fear we encounter most vividly when we think of the very idea of explosion. To “explode” is to send pieces in all directions at the absolute cost of the original whole. If we explode, exuding love out of our gratitude, what will be left of us? As a parent of young children who have so many needs, I often come to the end of the day (or sometimes, admittedly, the middle of the day) feeling as though I have nothing left to give. Whether you are a parent or not, you’ve felt this way. You’re a little short on cash this month and as you’re walking into the grocery store thinking of ways to conserve what you have left, a woman approaches you to ask if you have some change to spare so that she can buy some milk. A knot develops in the pit of your stomach. You get that “nothing left to give” feeling. Or maybe the last round of chemo therapy sapped what energy you had left to fight the disease that betrays your body. You get that “nothing left to give” feeling. Or maybe you’re an active member of the church. You’ve worked for years seeking justice in the community but what you see before you is not the radically transformed world you’d hoped for. You get that “nothing left to give” feeling. Take heart. There is even scriptural support for the possibility that perhaps Jesus felt this way. This is probably my only chance to preach this year, so I hope you’ll allow me to do some gospel hopping. I’m moving now from Luke to Matthew, so take note, and we’ll make our way back to Luke in a moment. You know the story. At the total risk of confusing everyone in this sanctuary, including myself, it’s another account involving Jesus and an unnamed woman, but the difference is that this time the woman speaks. Perhaps, according to Barbara Brown Taylor whom I have already quoted and who first put this idea into my head, this woman even convinces Jesus to reconsider that “nothing left to give” feeling. I’ll let you decide for yourself. Listen now to the Word of God from Matthew chapter 15, beginning with verse 22:

Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

The word of the Lord. (Thanks be to God.)

Is it the Canaanite woman’s potential gratitude for even the crumbs—what’s left over of Jesus, that moves Jesus to heal her daughter even after his initial refusal and insult? Is it possible that Jesus had that “nothing left to give” feeling until he was prompted by the woman’s persistence to an understanding that he was to give not only the crumbs, but his entire body, the whole of the bread and the cup, broken in pieces and dispersed at the absolute cost of the original whole—an explosion, if you will, for the forgiveness of you and me and all humankind?

So what? What does any of this matter, and how does it relate to gratitude? Well, we, too, limit our love. Like the psalmist who says, “Make them bear their own burdens,” we make judgments about who is worthy or unworthy to receive the love that God has commanded us to extend to all of God’s children. Like Simon, who thinks, “If this man were a prophet, surely he would know who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him,” we doubt God’s wisdom, questioning whether God really means for us to forego self-preservation for sacrificial giving. Like Jesus, we at times feel that we have nothing left to give. But today, let’s take our lesson and our courage from the woman in Luke 7, who recognized her own sin clearly enough to know that she needed forgiveness from the only One who could give her life; the woman who realized that what was at stake was not the world’s approval, but Jesus’ love; the woman who received Christ’s blessing and peace; and who returned lavish attention to the body of Christ in an explosion of gratitude as evident to us as fireworks in the night sky. May we go and do likewise. May God’s name be praised. Amen.