Jack McKinney

Pullen Memorial Baptist Church

June 17, 2007 – Third Sunday after Pentecost

Text: Luke 7:36-50

She Never Said a Mumblin’ Word

The great detectives of literature and cinema all share a necessary trait. Whether it is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, or Agathie Christie’s Miss Marple, or even Peter Shalhoub’s obsessive compulsive Monk, they all walk into a crime scene and see what is obvious only to them. While everyone else notices the dead body or the broken lock, the good detective sees what is missing. And because they are willing to wonder about more than the obvious, our favorite detectives understand and eventually reveal a much more complete story than we would have ever imagined without them.

I sometimes think that to be a good reader of the Bible it helps to have a bit of that detective mentality in approaching the text. Any of us can read a story in the scriptures and discern the who, what, when, and where. We may not have a clue what some parts of the Bible actually mean, but we can figure out what is being said and who is saying it. But because we rarely take the next step of wondering what is missing in the text, we are like the detective’s sidekick who can’t see the bigger picture. A lack of simple curiosity dooms us to seeing only what is obvious in the story, and really, how interesting is the dead body and the broken lock?

All of which brings me to our Gospel reading for this day. In Luke 7 we encounter Jesus at the home of a religious leader. Before the dinner begins a woman of the city enters the home, weeps at Jesus’ feet, and then anoints his feet with ointment. Her actions spark an interesting conversation between Jesus and the religious leader concerning the appropriateness of allowing the woman to do what she has done. Jesus uses the event to describe a short parable about the nature of forgiveness, puts the religious leader in his place for being ungracious toward the woman, and then pronounces forgiveness on the woman and extends an affirmation and blessing to her. So, you can see we have established the who, what, when, and where of this story. But let’s take it a little farther.

What do we know about this woman who washes Jesus’ feet with her tears and perfume? Well, three different voices in the story tell us she is a sinner. The writer or narrator begins by telling us she was a woman of the city and a sinner. The religious leader says to himself in a fairly snotty fashion, “If Jesus was really a prophet he would know who and what kind of woman it is that is touching him—that she is a sinner.” Finally, Jesus himself affirms that this woman is a sinner. Twice. It’s almost as though a poll is taken in this story about the nature of this woman.

“What do you think of this woman?” the writer is asked.

“Sinner.”

“And, you, Mr. Religious Leader?”

“Sinner.”

“And you, Jesus, what do you think about this woman?”

“Oh yeah, she’s a big-time sinner.”

I think in the polling business they would say the woman’s negatives make her virtually unelectable.

So, now we have established the basic facts of this story. A woman, who is a sinner, anoints Jesus’ feet and he uses the event not only to forgive her, but to teach a lesson on forgiveness. It’s at this point in reading the Bible that we would normally wrap up the case as solved. Forgiveness is good and religious snottiness and prejudice are bad. We can all go to lunch now and feel satisfied that everything is in good order.

But wait a minute. Before we close the books on this one maybe we should extend at least a hint of curiosity. What if we asked the question that all good detectives ask—“What is missing?” Where would that take us? Might we learn something new that we hadn’t seen before?

In employing this approach to the text this week something struck me that I had never seen in my previous readings of this story. The woman who is at the center of the drama, the one whose actions prompt a vigorous debate and produce a parable and monologue from Jesus, never speaks. Not once. Not even a peep. Interesting, isn’t it?

So, in light of that fact, let’s review what we know about the woman. She is a sinner, right? How do we know this? Everyone in the story says she is a sinner. And she is forgiven, right? Jesus himself says she is forgiven. And we know that her faith saves her, right? Jesus says that, too. Everything we know about this woman is what others have said about her—her background, her intentions, and her needs are all presented clearly to us by others. In a good detective novel this is where the case starts to unravel because the cardinal sin of solving a case has been committed – presumption.

Nothing feels quite as demeaning as when others presume to know us and to know what we want and need. This woman is right there in the room as all manner of things are thought and said about her, but not once does anyone actually ask her why she is washing Jesus’ feet. Not once does anyone inquire about her story. She is treated like a prop in a large drama which is all the more strange given that she is actually the lead character. It is her action that drives the whole story. But no one, not even Jesus, pauses to wonder what she might say about all of this.

And at this point in the sermon I can imagine a couple of different reactions to what I am doing with this text. Some of you may be thinking I’m breaking a basic rule of biblical interpretation. The clear meaning of the text is what we should always strive to illuminate, according to most scholars, and the clear meaning of this text is obvious. It is a story about forgiveness and how this woman, who is a sinner, acts in such a way that spurs Jesus to absolve her and bless her. And my reaction to that point of view is simply this: So what? Even if I grant that the clear meaning of this story is established, does that really tell us anything remarkable? We are all sinners and stand in need of forgiveness. We are no better or worse than the woman in this text. Is there really anything wrong with looking beyond the obvious to what isn’t so obvious in the story? I think not.

The other reaction some of you may be having to my reading of this story would come from the women here today. Some of you might be thinking, “Well of course this woman is ignored. Aren’t all women in the Bible ignored?” The patriarchal nature of the scripture is thick in this text. Two men talk about what a woman has done, and one presumes to know why she had done it, all the while the woman is in the room! I can understand why women would find my interpretation of this story anything but surprising.

Even so, I think that being perpetrators of and victims of presumption has little to do with gender. We all presume we know things about people that we really don’t. And, sadly, we all have had the experience of others presuming to know how we feel, or what we think, or what our character really is. The judgments that lie beneath every presumption have a way of turning us into caricatures of our true selves. And just think how awful it would be when those presumptions are spoken about you while you are in the room as they are uttered.

The truth is that such presumptions can be found everywhere you look. The current administration presumed it knew what was going on in Iraq, and how to fix it, and those presumptions have us stuck in a war that will scar our national soul for years to come. The church is a hotbed of presumptions. There probably isn’t an institution on Earth that spends more time and energy presuming that it knows what is best for other people. And, of course, families are not immune from the insidious presumptions that undermine relationships. Living under the same roof with people can turn into a license to presume we know everything about them. There are lots of fathers and children in the world who would be happier if they would stop using that license with one another.

KaKi and I celebrated our 21^st anniversary this week. I know that some of you are wondering why they let middle-schoolers marry in Texas, but we were actually in college when we tied the knot. After all of these years together you would think that I would have this marriage thing down pat, but I don’t. The truth is there are still many days when feel like I am in the introductory course of a subject called “How Women Are Different Than Men.” But there is one thing I have learned, even if I have to relearn it every other day. Things go much better in my marriage when I simply ask KaKi what she thinks, feels, wants, or needs rather than presuming that I know what she thinks, feels, wants, and needs. It’s really that simple. If I will just ask her the question I will not only get the real story, I won’t have to spend time cleaning up the mess I made by presuming I knew the story.

The antidote to the poison that is presumption truly is as simple as asking people to tell us their story. Take a curious approach with people, even those closest to you, and you will be amazed with what you will learn. Missing pieces will be filled in. Mysteries will be solved. Caricatures we have created with our presumptions will fall away and the truth will emerge. Indeed, every good detective knows that his or her best tool is the willingness to ask curious questions, even if others may think those questions are simplistic and obvious. If we will act like we don’t know something we might be surprised by how often we are proven correct about our ignorance.

What would the woman who bathed Jesus’ feet with her tears and perfume have said if someone in that room had asked about her story? I have no idea. But it would have been nice if someone had asked.