June 13, 2010 Galatians 2:15-21 Luke 7:36-50

“Looking Down Our Noses”

Dr. Ted H. Sandberg

Do you remember the couple back in November who crashed the White House state dinner in honor of
the Indian Prime Minister? Michaele and Tareq Salahi somehow got passed the White House security
and had their picture taken with Vice-President Biden, and she with President Obama. The Salahis,
who were described by the Washington Post as “polo-playing socialites,” also reportedly auditioned
for roles in the TV program “The Real Housewives of Washington.” 1 I haven’t heard if they’ve been
charged with anything, or if they’ve managed to build on their gatecrashing experience, but for awhile,
they were the talk of the airwaves.
My guess is that this woman who gatecrashed Simon the Pharisee’s dinner received the same kind of
publicity that the Salahis received – maybe even more, if that’s possible. Luke doesn’t tell us where
this incident took place, but it really wouldn’t matter, would it? If it was a small village around
Capernaum, or even in Jerusalem itself, news would’ve spread faster than the internet. “Did you hear
what happened at Simon’s? Did you know that that sinner woman went to the big dinner he had? Did
you hear what she did to Simon’s guest, Jesus?” Those raised in small towns know that it was often
the case that Mother knew what mischief son or daughter had been up to before son or daughter got
home from executing said mischief. So it would’ve been in this morning’s story. The whole town
would’ve known what happened at Simon’s before the dinner’s final course had been served.
We can easily understand this. Simon was a Pharisee, one of the elite religious leaders. He was
morally upright and legally above reproach – and I say that in all honesty, not tongue-in-cheek.
Pharisees were good men. They wanted to do what was right, what God demanded. Their attention to
the smallest detail in the law was because they wanted to get everything right. They didn’t want to
break even the littlest Law. They were very, very devout – which also made them more than a little
self-righteous.
Which made the fact that this woman gatecrashed the dinner all that more startling. Obviously, from
Simon’s reaction to her, Simon knew who the woman was. Simon 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.” [By way of clarification, there’s all kinds of speculation about what kind of sinner this
woman actually was. Many claim that she was a prostitute – though Luke doesn’t say that she was
when he easily could’ve done that. That so many Christians jump to the conclusion that she was a
prostitute probably says more about we Christians than it does about the woman herself. Christians,
too often, are hung up on sexual sins, when there are lots and lots of other sins just as deadly, if not
more so. All we know about the woman is that she had a reputation for being some kind of sinner, a
sinner worst than average.]
We can also surmise from the passage that she’d either met Jesus somewhere earlier, or Jesus’
teaching had reached her and she’d been transformed. Luke, after he tells us that Jesus took his place
at the table with the others, says “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.” Something that Jesus had
done, or something that Jesus had said, or something that Jesus had taught had had such a profound
1 1. “Couple 'gatecrash' Barack Obama's White House dinner,” guardian.co.uk
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/nov/26/couple-gatecrashes-barack-obama-white-h
ouse-dinner
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affect on this woman, this sinner, that she was willing to risk the humiliation of being caught and
thrown out of the dinner. She was willing to face even more ridicule than usual just for the chance to
see or touch Jesus.
What’s more, Luke tells us that “She stood behind [Jesus] 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.” Such a public display was totally inappropriate. “Good” women didn’t do
such a thing. “Good” women didn’t let down their hair in public. “Good” women didn’t kiss a
stranger’s feet. “Good” women certainly didn’t anoint a stranger’s feet with costly perfume.
Simon the Pharisee, representing all the “good” people, thought 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.” Simon’s assumption is that if Jesus knew this woman was a sinner, he wouldn’t let her
touch him. That she’s touching him proves, to Simon, that Jesus isn’t a prophet. Simon can’t imagine
that Jesus could know that the woman is a sinner and still let her do the things she was doing. That’s
beyond anything Simon could imagine a prophet, a person of God, doing.
But Jesus turns the tables on Simon. He says to Simon, “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?” Luke doesn’t make a big deal of the fact that Jesus knew what Simon was
thinking, but then he doesn’t have to. We understand what’s happened. Simon says that a prophet
should know what kind of woman this is. Jesus proves that he’s a prophet by “knowing” Simon’s
thoughts.
Nor does Jesus leave it there with Simon, leave it with proving to Simon he’s a prophet. There’s a
lesson to be taught as well. Who’s going to be more loving, as Luke puts it [I might say grateful]?
Who’s going to be more grateful, the person who’s forgiven $500,000, or the person forgiven $5,000?
Both would be grateful, but who’d likely be more grateful? Simon, reluctantly, admits that the one
who is forgiven the most will be most grateful, most thankful. This is something we, too, may forget
today.
With whom do you identify in this morning’s passage? Do you feel like Jesus? No. We know we’re
not Jesus. Do you think you’re something like the Pharisee? Because we’ve heard so much that the
Pharisees were the opponents of Jesus, we probably don’t want to think we’re like the Pharisees.
Which leaves the “sinner” woman. Do you feel you’re so much an outcast in Chico, such a great
sinner, that everyone knows you by that name? Again. Probably not. We understand in our hearts
that we’re sinners, but we probably think we’re only average sinners. We see ourselves as common
sinners, not better than others, but probably no worse than others either.
It’s that kind of attitude, however, that gets us in trouble when we see someone whom we feel is a
sinner worse than us. “I may speed, but I wouldn’t rob a bank. I may jaywalk, but I wouldn’t steal. I
may gossip a little, but I wouldn’t molest anyone. I know there are better people than me, but there
are a lot of worse people than me, too.”
It was that kind of attitude that got Simon the Pharisee into trouble, and it’s that kind of attitude that
gets us into trouble. I think it’s just a human tendency to look down our noses at some of the people
around us. It’s just a human tendency to think we’re just a little better than those living down the
block from us, or across town. We’re just a little better than “those” people over there. It’s easy to sit
in judgment of others, just like Simon, and the town, judged the “sinner” woman.

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The writer, minister, civil rights leader, Howard Thurman warns about this kind of attitude in a
meditation from his book Meditations of the Heart, entitled “Every Judgment is Self-judgment.”2
Here’s his meditation.
It is very easy to sit in judgment upon the behavior of others but often difficult to realize that every
judgment is a self-judgment. A corollary to this fact is the finding again and again that the thing
which seems to me objectionable in others is something of which I myself am guilty. [Strange], isn’t
it? For a few weeks, during a summer series on a university campus, I shared a suite with two other
men. The suite consisted of two bedrooms, a bath and a living room. The two men occupied one of
the bedrooms and I, the other. One night when I came in, as I opened the door, I heard a voice say,
“Pipe down, for Pete’s sake, pipe down.” This was followed by the soft thud of a pillow being thrown
against the wall. In a few minutes one of the fellows stood at the door with disheveled hair and
distraught features. “I can’t go to sleep. Have you ever heard such snoring? Usually I get off first and
then his snoring does not disturb me but tonight he went to bed early. There ought to be a law against
it. Why doesn’t his wife tell him, or maybe she is a snorer herself. What a partner to a snoring duet
he would make!” I replied that there was an extra bed in my room which he could share if my reading
lamp would not keep him awake. He accepted gladly, assuring me that the light would not disturb
him. After he had retired and I had settled down for an hour’s reading, I became aware of his heavy
breathing. Then it began – the most pronounced and heavy snoring that I had ever heard in my life.
Finally, I could not continue my reading and I knew that sleep would be impossible. I went into the
living room, where I spent the night on the couch. I had meant to awaken early, before he did, so as
not to embarrass him. But I overslept. When he saw me he said, “Oh no! Don’t tell me. I’ll never
blow my top again about snorers.” The only creative attitude toward the weaknesses or the disabilities
of others is a quiet humility. What I condemn in others may be but a reflection of myself in a mirror.
[end]
If we look down our noses carefully enough, we’ll see our own reflections. That which I find most
irritating in others is what I find most irritating in myself. We’re all closer to the “sinner” woman than
we’d like to think, but thanks be to God, God loves us anyway, and God forgives. May we, like the
woman in today’s passage, go in peace

2 2. Thurman, Howard, “18. Every Judgment is Self-judgment,” Meditations of the

Heart, Friends United Press, Richmond, In, 1953, reprint, 1996, pp. 40-1.
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