Do you see this parable?: A story about forgiveness, racism, uncomfortable stories, and us ~ Luke 7:36-50 (Short Stories Jesus Told series)

Spoiler alert! I’m going to start today’s sermon with its conclusion: Our goal is to invite Jesus, be hospitable, be aware of ourselves (our standing with God and others), and listen to uncomfortable stories.

³⁶ When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table.

The setting for our parable is more than helpful background information but also instructive for the moment we find ourselves in. Though different in many ways, this dinner party was occurring in a time of political unrest, violence, fear, and even religious misunderstanding. And while it’s often the case that Pharisees can occupy the more negative characters in the gospel story, it seems more than appropriate to acknowledge that Simon was a Pharisee who invited Jesus to dinner. And that takes courage – he knew that they didn’t see eye-to-eye but nevertheless thought Jesus was worth a conversation and a meal. And so I want us to be like the Pharisee and invite Jesus into our conversations as well.  Before your political candidate, or your opinion, or your party; let’s at least begin with inviting Jesus to attend, to ask him what he thinks of what you think or do and listen to him. Because friends, the end goal is not discussion – it’s discipleship. And that means that everything you are must be put in dialogue with Jesus and surrendered to him. I also believe we should praise Simon the Pharisee in another way, like him we should be inviting those with a different perspective or ones we struggle with. We should seek out dinner companions who may not think like us but who seek to follow God.
These are good beginnings. But if we’re going to have conversations about difficult things that matter as Christians, we have to do more than invite Jesus and other perspectives. We’re also going to have to be hospitable.
One of the failures of Simon the Pharisee is that while he invited Jesus to his home, he didn’t treat his guest as he should’ve (vss. 44-46). More than a question of disagreeing over Scripture, he disregarded the cultural norms of welcome, care, and generosity. This is often were things go wrong for us as well. With perhaps good intentions we enter into a conversation with someone different and immediately forget those cultural habits of listening well and treating others respectfully. We offer no water, no oil no kiss. And Jesus calls Simon out for this. Will Jesus call you out as well? Hospitable things, Jesus reminds, are important regardless of your point.
But the main problem wasn’t even Simon’s lack of hospitality – it was his blindness -  his seemingly inability to see who he was in this exchange and therefore who others were as well. And as white Christians this might be one of the most pressing concerns for us as we seek to engage the current state of racism in this country. 

We must remember who the “real” sinner is and listen to uncomfortable stories.
“If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.” ⁴⁰ Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”
Simon claims that Jesus is no prophet because, if he were, he would know that the woman is a sinner. If Jesus were a prophet, he would know its others who are the problem. Simon thinks this way but doesn’t say it. Jesus, however, does know the thoughts of sinners. He knows Simon’s thoughts, my thoughts, and yours. Proof by Simon’s own criterion that Jesus is a prophet. But Jesus doesn’t simply know sinful thoughts – he wants to tell us stories so that we can see our sin and love others better. In fact, after the story was over Jesus’ test for Simon was Simon’s awareness of others, “Do you see this woman?,” Jesus asked.

Friends, in this moment of violence, tragedy, racism, and fear – I want to ask you to listen to uncomfortable stories which aim to help you see your own sin. Can those of us who are white see how we have been blinded by our own privilege and therefore blind to the actual plight of people of color? To do that – we will have to listen to hard stories which unmask us. I want to ask us, “Do you see George Floyd?” “Do you see Ahmaud Arbery?” “Do you see Breonna Taylor?” Do you know the stories of racism from people of color in our own congregation? Have you listened to stories from our brothers and sisters of color who are despised, rejected, incarcerated, profiled, because of sin?
And sin is the problem. It warps our relationships but also how we see others and ourselves. Sin is a destructive, all-encompassing, generational force that damages our relationship with God, others, ourselves, and the whole of creation. And sin can warp how we see the world and our own place in it. And so Jesus tells us a 2 verse story that knocks us sideways: ⁴¹ “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. ⁴² Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”
The point of the story is clear – Vs. 47: ⁴⁷ Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” Jesus isn’t telling us that those who haven’t done much sin are doomed to love him less. No, he states basically, “Whoever (thinks he) has been forgiven little loves little.” And not simply loves Jesus less but others as well – like the woman – do you see?
So we’re going to be delving into some uncomfortable stories as a church but we will do it by inviting Jesus, being hospitable to him and others and recognizing our own sin and complicity. Take the 21 Day Challenge with Dr. Moore which offers us stories to challenge our visions of oppression, privilege, and power.

But there’s hope. Pharisees, not just “sinners” can be saved! We actually don’t know what happened to Simon. We’re not told he rejected Jesus in the end. But I would like to substitute another Pharisee in his place who did lean into this furnace of conversion which challenged is own sense of identity and privilege – the Apostle Paul. Now I know that you’ve heard this next part before but if you’re as forgetful as I am then we could all use a refresher. I’m talking about the Apostle Paul’s transformation from the dominant, majority, privileged, position of power to one of deep solidarity with others. I’m talking about his conversion from privileged religious cop to transformed Christian servant. 

c. 36 A.D. Acts 9:29-31: He talked and debated with the Hellenistic Jews, but they tried to kill him. ³⁰ When the believers learned of this, they took him down to Caesarea and sent him off to Tarsus. ³¹ Then the church throughout Judea, Galilee and Samaria enjoyed a time of peace and was strengthened. Living in the fear of the Lord and encouraged by the Holy Spirit, it increased in numbers.

·       The language and geography reveal a petulant, argument new convert who helps no one by his arguing and debating. The point is made by the laughable conclusion that only when he goes away is the church throughout the whole region strengthened.

c. (17 years later) 53 A.D. Galatians 2:6: ⁶ As for those who were held in high esteem—whatever they were makes no difference to me; God does not show favoritism—they added nothing to my message.

·       The other believer’s stories (from original apostles, no less) don’t matter. He assumes that he knows all he needs to know, has seen all he has needed to see. He has nothing to learn.

c. (18 years a Christian) 54 A.D. 1 Corinthians 15:3-9: ³ For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, ⁴ that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, ⁵ and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. ⁶ After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. ⁷ Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, ⁸ and last of all he appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born. ⁹ For I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.

·       Notice how the language shifts – to more passive verbs: I received. He begins to acknowledge the importance of others stories which are important for his own. He acknowledges that he was warped by sin “abnormal” and that he was complicit in persecuting and harming other brothers and sisters in Christ. Perhaps some of the stories he heard where uncomfortable stories of people he once persecuted. Perhaps he worshipped with Stephen’s family and had to wrestle with what he had done.

c. (26 years a Christian) 62 A.D. Ephesians 3:7-8: ⁷ I became a servant of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace given me through the working of his power. ⁸ Although I am less than the least of all the Lord’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ,

·       Here he’s a “servant” and speaks less about his own efforts, achievements, or even ethnic status but the “gift of God’s grace.” The greater the vision of grace, the greater the view of the debt.

c. (27 years a Christian) 65 A.D. 1 Timothy 1:12-15: ¹² I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service. ¹³ Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. ¹⁴ The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. ¹⁵ Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst.

The desired goal has been reached. He finally sees. He now embodies Jesus’ parable. He is Jesus’ parable. That’s what the Christian journey is about. Jesus wants to tell you a story so that you see yourself in the proper way. “Do you see this woman?” “Do you see yourself?” Until you see yourself as the one who “owed more”; you will never be properly able to see. But “hallelujah” even a blind, arrogant, Pharisee can be saved.  This whole thing started with Jesus and a meal leading us to forgiveness and sight. And Jesus invites us to a meal now. Will

you see? Let’s start with confession.

O God,

On this Sunday we confess
that the sin of racial hatred and prejudice

distorts your divine plan for our human lives:

Forgive us.

You created us in divine likeness, diverse and beautiful:
In every person, every race is your image.
But too often we fail to recognize your image in all:
Forgive us.

You created us in divine freedom, to be free:
In every decision, every choice is your possibility of justice.
But too often we fail to choose to advocate for your justice for all:
Forgive us.

You created us for divine abundance, to tend and share:
In every garden, every social structure is your seed of community.
But too often we fail to create that community which includes all,
and gives to all equal access to your abundant life:
Forgive us.

Forgive us:
Open our eyes to distinguish good from evil
Open our hearts to desire good over evil
Strengthen our wills to choose good over evil,

So that we may create among us your beloved community.

Amen.

A Punching Widow and a Black-Eyed Judge: a Problem Parable ont the Problem of Prayer ~ Luke 18:1-8 (Short Stories Jesus Told)

The parables should disturb us. 

They certainly disturbed many of their original hearers. The challenge, of course, is that like so many things we have Disney-fied them – you know, made them sweet and cuddly with happy endings about people far more beautiful than us from a spiritual world far, far away. Most people aren’t aware that many of the Disney films like Cinderella, the Little Mermaid, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Beauty & the Beast, etc., were far darker tales originally than many of us imagine – rarely ending in “happily ever after” or without serious tragedy, violence, and pain. They sought to offer a moral vision even as they entertained but did so with greater grit, irony, and on-the-ground-realism than their Disney counterparts. They are “disturbing” but far more powerful. Jesus’ stories are also often like this and we must be careful to not turn them into “la la la, pie in the sky, cutesy” fables. They were by their very nature: apocalyptic. That is, they sought to show us the kingdom often by “unmasking” us and helping us see, which if you been in the dark long enough – can cause your eyes to hurt. And to be honest – this week’s parable maybe one of the more painful stories. It’s the parable of the punching widow and the black-eyed judge (I know that’s not its Disney title)! What does it reveal and unmask? How does it hurt? What does it want us to see?

 Don’t be like her because God’s not like him. [Reading One]

This is an anti-hero story, of sorts. Remember the parable of the unjust steward Luke 16:1-13)? Sometime Jesus would use negative or controversial characters to make a stronger point through comparison and contrast. This is such a story. And because of that – some try and make it nicer than it actually sounds. It’s a story about a widow – we don’t know much about her other than that she comes repeatedly to an unjust judge for help. What she wants is not as clear as it sounds? In fact, this whole parable belongs in the Greek of the Week of the category. Let me explain. The NIV says that the widow wants “justice” but it’s not the regular word for it in the NT and can mean either “vengeance” or “vindicate” or “punish”. It’s a polyvalent word, and, therefore, ambiguous. Paul, for example, will say in Romans 12:19 that it’s something that we should not do – “Do not take revenge [ekdikeō],” he commands. Moreover, the woman, rather than being meek or mild, apparently has threatened the unjust judge because he changes his mind due to her potential violence (vs. 5). The NIV says “attack” but the Greek word is literally a compound word meaning “below the eye.” It’s a boxing term and means to give someone a “black eye”. Apparently, she’s got quite the right hook. BUT – her persistence and potential punches are effective and she gets what she wants. And she has to be tough - consider the judge. The judge, of course, is even less a shining model than the punching widow. The judge, who Jesus calls “unjust” in vs. 6 neither “fears God nor cares for people” (vs. 2). BUT even an unjust judge, Jesus shows, can be persuaded, worn down, beaten into submission. Even he can grant one’s request. And that’s the ironic point. In the end, Jesus doesn’t even refer back to the woman at all. But in vs. 6 says, “Listen to what the unjust judge says.” Why? Well, because he gave her what she wanted and God is not like that. We don’t pray to that God, Jesus implies. We pray to the Father of the two sons who will not “put us off”, the Vineyard owner who is lavishly generous, the one who is always compassionate. So one of the things that Jesus is stating is that “theology matters.” What you think about God matters and will change the way you pray? You don’t pray to a distant, arbitrary, heartless, calculating judge. You pray to a Father that runs. Imagine what he will give and bring in response to your prayers – even when you have to wait. It’s interesting that when I meet with people who are in real distress they often cannot pray. And the reason for this is not some unwillingness on their part but sometimes a bad theology about God who they believe wants to punish them for sport. I often say, “Don’t pray to that God.,” but perhaps I should tell them as Jesus did – even bad judges can be one over so how much more can a father who loves you? You don’t have to punch God in the eye. You don’t need to threaten God to be good. Pray with the knowledge that God is good so justice will come.

Here’s the thing. God is not like the unjust judge. This is a freeing reality in that if God is a good father you can plead and beg in prayer but don’t have to. If God is just you can use words that are ambiguous or problematic, even violent, and God will still listen. 

Wait! I changed my mind. I am the widow and do want to punch God.[Reading Two]

And yet . . . maybe the story is even darker and unmasks us in other ways. Maybe we are more like the widow than we first imagine and that God is the judge that we do want to be violent toward. How often in my prayers are my motives mixed? I do want vengeance and justice to go together – because I am the hero of my story and others are the villain. I want others to pay. And I do get upset with God and want God to avenge me. The fact of the matter is that the drama of the Gospels show us wanting vengeance and not getting a God or Savior we want. I’m reminded, in other words, that God came to us through Jesus Christ, offered us grace, showed us sacrificial love, commanded of us generosity to enemies and sinners, and we got violent. God did let us punch him in the eye. We even did more than that. So another way to read the parable is that even when we do our worst, put up our dukes and make our threats – God still loves us and grants us justice anyway. Perhaps the parable unmasks our prayers for vengeance and God’s willingness, despite our threats, to give us something better, something greater. 

But wait! I changed my mind again. What if I am not the widow at all but the “adversary” (vs. 3)? [Reading Three]

Friends, this week I watched in utter disbelief and horror as George Floyd was murdered by a police officer who crushed his neck. And then I realized – this keeps happening again and again – and my black brothers and sisters keep pleading, “Grant us justice against our adversary.” And I simply remain silent, or make excuses, or turn the channel, or stop the video and go back to what I always do – live a life without fear because I am not black. And I wonder, might their prayers for justice or even vengeance be against me? And it’s not simply police violence but the overall rate of Covid infections among the black community, their lack of access to hospitals and medical care, the utter lack of equity and justice in the system. And as I got lost in all this pain, I heard Jesus ask me a question, “When I return, what will I find?”

Finally, remember that parables are “faith on the earth” stories and that prayer is a “faith on the earth” practice. [Reading Action]

It’s fascinating to note that Jesus’ parable on prayer doesn’t end with the question, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find prayer on the earth, or find you more thoughtful, or discover that you’re nice? Jesus’ parable asks one direct question: “Will I find you more faithful “on the earth”; that is, in this life, at this time, in this place?” It’s interesting that in a parable on prayer Jesus concludes with faith. And not just any faith but “faith on this earth” – faith in this life, faith that matters, faith that is about justice. “Faith on the earth” is the point. Friends, it’s more than a question of whether Jesus will find “faith.” Will people as well? Will widows and orphans? Will George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery?

Peaceful persistent prayer and acting justly are ‘the faith” God expects to find. “Faith,” according to Jesus, is a “lived conviction” – not perfectly, not without being bathed in grace but lived nonetheless and is the true thermometer of our prayer life. Faith is the coming together of prayer and justice “on the earth.” It means more than that we pray for justice but also that we pray that we act justly. So I want you to join in me that prayer. I’m going to be starting another group that will be doing just that – praying, reading, talking, acting – toward greater justice for our black brothers and sisters – that Jesus calls faith. I want to invite you to join me in it so that when Jesus comes our “faith will be found” and we won’t have a black eye.