Healing

Jesus Gets Up Close and Personal with a Prostitute

A close reading of the gospels gives one the distinct impression that Jesus enjoyed rattling people’s cages. He had a habit of eating with losers, outcasts, and traitors to the dismay of the religious leaders. He seemed to go out of his way to heal on the Sabbath because he knew they didn’t like it. He brought women into his inner circle as disciples and praised hated foreigners. He broke the law and touched lepers. But of all his radical behaviour, what Jesus did the night a prostitute disrupted a dinner party may be the most disturbing. Indeed, had you or I been there, we would no doubt  be shaking our heads and murmuring that this time, Jesus has just gone too far.

The community was abuzz with the news that the rabbi who’s turning Israel upside down is in town and will be dining at the home of Simon the Pharisee tonight . A Pharisee in first century Judaism is a big deal. He’s a leader of the community. To be a guest at his house would be like being invited to the home of a CEO of a large corporation, an important government official or perhaps the home of a megachurch pastor.

The meal goes along fine. Pleasantries are exchanged. The roasted lamb is succulent; everyone smiles after tasting the wine. Then, all of a sudden she barges in unannounced, a woman well-known all over town as promiscuous, quite possibly a prostitute. She’s entered the room because she knows that when a rabbi like Jesus eats at a leader’s home, other people can watch and listen. But for a woman of her standing to do so is a big risk.

As she approaches the entrance of the room she’s confronted by an onslaught of inner voices. “You’re a shameful slut. What are you doing here? This man is holy. You don’t belong. Don’t go through that door. You’re going to make a fool of yourself. You will be a laughing stock in this town for the rest of your life. You’re a loser. Get out of here.” She doesn’t listen, but rather, tiptoes up behind Jesus as he reclines on a pillow, a mat spread out with the meal in front of him. His body trails away from the feast and she sees his sandals have been removed as is the custom. At the sight of her, Simon’s eyebrows raise and his nostrils flare with indignity. The guests’ faces show undisguised disgust as well. One woman draws back as though from vermin. Jesus’ face, however, radiates a captivating acceptance encouraging her to come forward. She takes no notice of the hostile stares and the sneering lips. Now, more than ever, she just wants to do something extraordinary for Jesus.

As she gets closer to his inviting presence, her heart begins to melt.  Thoughts of her past and all that she has become fill her heart. Even before she kneels down to anoint Jesus’ feet a dam bursts within her. The pain mingles with the warmth of Christ’s love and her past washes away in a flood of tears. But as she looks down she sees her tears splashing on Jesus’ feet. “The Master’s feet are getting soaked by my tears! What do I do now?” She has nothing to dry them with. Jesus’ feet are getting wetter and wetter. The woman is now desperate and comes up with a plan that will only dig her deeper into the hole of public shame. She throws caution to the wind not caring what others think. 

She is only focused on Jesus and so she does something that is totally culturally indecent–she lets her hair down in front of them all, and begins to dry his feet with her hair. Her anxiety now abating, she enacts the next part of her plan. She pours out the  precious anointing oil she’s brought on Jesus’ feet.  As she does so a  torrent of love erupts from somewhere deep inside and  she pours that out too– now  doing  the completely unthinkable! Overwhelmed by  a sense of grace and mercy , she starts kissing Jesus’ feet, not once or twice, but continuously, for a long time. 

Can we grasp the sensuality of what’s happening?  Jesus, fully human, fully male has  a woman let down her hair, rub his feet with it, anoint and possibly massage them with oil and then start kissing them repeatedly. In first century Judaism a woman letting her hair down in public  had sexual overtones and was considered immodest. Furthermore, this particular woman is known by the whole community as promiscuous, quite likely a prostitute. The same lips that had kissed so many other lusting lips go on kissing his feet in full view of all the guests. And Jesus let it all happen! Later, he will even draw Simon’s attention to how long her kissing went on!

“Did Jesus go too far this time?” Simon thinks so.  This is all the evidence he needs. Jesus is  a false prophet. “If he were a real prophet,” Simon says to himself, “he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is.” His thoughts perfectly reflect the Pharisees’ attitude. Their life’s work was to make and enforce rules that excluded others from their “holy” inner circle. How much pain they inflicted by this judgment of others was irrelevant.

Jesus, however, yanks Simon off his judgement seat and puts him in the defendant’s box. Simon had scoffed to himself about Jesus’ lack of discernment concerning the woman. As one scholar notes, the irony is that Jesus not only knows what kind of a woman is touching him, he also knows what kind of a man Simon is. He even knows what he is thinking!

In not recoiling from the woman but instead receiving her washing and anointing of his feet with prolonged kisses, Jesus’ passivity is remarkable.  As we study the life of  Christ in the gospels, it becomes obvious that most of us need to do what Jesus makes explicit in Matthew 11:28-30, learn of his gentleness and meekness. We tend to equate those qualities with weakness  or laziness, but that shows a misunderstanding of Jesus’ nature. Furthermore, gentleness and meekness may mean we are passive at times, but they may mean the  opposite  at other times. Jesus lives in the exhilaration of a Spirit-led life, now passive, now taking action. When he turns to Simon, we see his assertiveness in full display. Although Jesus lets all of the woman’s actions go, he doesn’t even let Simon get away with what he’s thinking. Jesus wants to give him a chance to repent and so is proactive even to the point of apparent rudeness in order to do so.  Simon’s hardening of his heart is serious indeed. Changing it requires strong medicine which Jesus is not afraid to  administer. God’s mercy does not mean he’s a benevolent grandfather “who just wants to see the young people have a good time” as C.S. Lewis characterized  this false view of God.

In allowing this scene to develop, Jesus has  initiated a drama. Now he invites the Pharisee into it with an interactive parable. He says in effect, “Simon, you like judging people. You’ve judged this woman; you’ve judged me. I want you to make one more judgment. One guy owed $50,000 to a rich man and another owed $5,000. When they couldn’t pay, he completely forgave both their debts. Which one of these guys will love the moneylender more?” Simon realizes he’s being sucked into something that may not go well for him and so grudgingly answers, “I suppose the guy who owed the bigger debt.”

Jesus says he has indeed given the right answer. He then turns toward the woman and asks Simon a profound question, “Do you see this woman?” The story makes it clear that he didn’t see her. Trapped in his own mind with his self-righteous fantasies, he only sees the category into which he ’s  put her, sinner. Simon sees only the surface. He lives a shallow, imprisoned life, his religious system a boa constrictor that squeezes all love out of him. Furthermore, Simon can’t see the big heart of the One who is his guest. He only sees the label he ’s put on Jesus, “false prophet.”   His self-confident knowledge blinds him to love incarnate eating dinner with him.

On the other hand, Jesus sees not merely a category, but the woman in her God-created beauty. Even though  he  acknowledges  that, indeed, she had sinned much, he didn’t see a “sinful woman.”   In light of her past, the high view Jesus articulates concerning her is extraordinary. He will commend her as someone with great faith, a faith that “saves” her, he says. Not only that,  he says she’s a person of great love. Jesus saw her true self, a woman who “loved much.”And now we know why Jesus let  this scene  unfold the way it did. The drama  highlighted for all to see the response of lavish love from one who had encountered heaven’s mercy. From a human point of view it was an overly sensual, questionable scene for the Son of God to be involved in . From a divine perspective the fragrance of angels filled the room because one sinner had repented. It was not about romance but forgiveness and redemption of a messed-up sexuality . It was about a woman finally finding the love she’d been looking for in all her illicit relationships with men.

Spiritual Formation

A Little Lower than God! Part 5: Open the Door, then Close It!

(Previous)

In Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol we’re introduced to Ebenezer Scrooge, a man “secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.” Individuality becomes pathological when taken to extreme. We’re made for love and love requires a community where we find others to love. Nevertheless, the spiritual life begins alone and requires a regular return to solitude if it’s to flourish.

We have been considering the self as a contained space, a city that is to be enclosed within walls (Prov. 25:28). Last time we heard Jesus speaking of the self as a house. He says he stands at its door knocking, waiting for an invitation to come in. Once we’ve opened the door and embraced the presence of Jesus, he promises to eat with us. That is, he promises an intimate, satisfying experience such as good friends enjoy around a dinner table. God invites us to a delicious fellowship, firstly with him alone–a fellowship in which we come to know the unique, particular love God has for us personally. Without that experience we will not truly love others. Jesus’ certainty of this kind of relationship with his Heavenly father gave him the ability to love the disciples right to the bitter end (John 13:1).

Therefore, once we invite Jesus inside, he directs us to close the door, at times, to everything and everyone else. “But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Mat. 6:6). Today it is increasingly difficult to slam the door as hundreds of ads, demands and other distractions try to pry their way into our inner world daily. However, If we don’t find this “secret place,” we’re not likely to enjoy our spiritual life a whole lot.

I was taught that inviting Jesus inside means that he comes into the deepest part of me. He is there whether I feel him or not. However, if I come to believe that Jesus only dwells beyond my conscious mind, my expectation of meaningful interaction with him will fade. I begin to believe I can’t experience his presence and I end up living with an empty place at the table. It is as though I have opened the door to Jesus, but then bade him go straight to the basement until I summon him in time of need.

To be sure, there is great value in believing that Jesus lives in the deepest part of me whether I sense him or not. This assurance encourages me during times when I feel distant from God. However, if it morphs into a life of always feeling distant from God something is drastically wrong. He’s deep down in the basement and I’m not even really sure which room he’s in. I don’t go there much anyway.

The idea of Jesus in my innermost being is pretty much inaccessible to me in daily life. What lies beyond my consciousness is of no great practical value. The critical thing is  knowing that I can talk to him as one rational being to another. I can invite him into my ordinary thought life in any room of my house. When I get anxious because of my job or my family or my health I can go, as it were, to the kitchen where Jesus waits for me to share my concerns with him over a cup of tea. When I have conflict with someone, I can invite Jesus to pace back and forth with me in the living room as I wrestle with how I can overcome my anger. In the family room, I can give thanks for the enjoyment of family and the company of friends.

If we shut the door to be with God alone, Jesus says the Father will reward us. If this has anything to do with some great position of power, as some Christians allege, it does so only incidentally. It is not God’s power but his love that woos us. His presence is all the reward we need (Gen. 15;1).

“Father, we long for that intimate fellowship with you. We’re amazed that you long for communion with us too! Help us to be faithful in shutting the door to all that is outside. May we learn to experience the great love which you have for each one of us individually. Then we will be able to fulfill your heart’s desire of loving others as Jesus loves us.”

(Next)

Spiritual Formation

A Little Lower than God! Part 4: The Door to Your True Self

(Previous)

In this series we have been examining one of the most fundamental things that makes us human, the ability to step back into our own inner world and make decisions free from external pressures. This amazing power remains intact despite the most extreme circumstances as we see in the life of the Anabaptist, Mattheus Mair, who was martyred in Baden, Germany on July 27, 1592. After six days of imprisonment, during which the priests tried in vain to convert him, he was drowned. Three or four times the executioner pulled him out of the water to ask him whether he would recant, but he refused as long as he could speak.

Mattheus Mair’ ability to make his own choices in the face of unimaginable fear and suffering illustrates how no one can take this freedom from us. On the other hand we sometimes find ourselves feeling like we’re not free to make even very small decisions (Rom. 7:15-25). We decide not to gossip or eat another chocolate bar and then go right ahead and do it anyway. How can this be?

No one can take our God-given freedom from us, but we can give it away as we saw last time in the life of Samson. There must be some secret whereby we go from being a spiritual weakling to a Mattheus Mair superhero of faith. Scripture pictures the strong human self as an ancient city protected from enemies by impregnable walls. It says that if we relinquish control over ourselves, we become weak and vulnerable like a city without walls. It is God who gives spiritual strength, but clearly, we have a role to play. We must build the walls and we too decide to whom we open the gates.

God designs this inner city to have the kind of power we see in the life of Mattheus Mair if, and only if, there are two residents in it–ourselves and God. We see this throughout the New Testament, for example, in the concept of the indwelling Spirit, the One who lives inside us. And here too, we retain control. Jesus graciously waits for us to open the door and invite him in. William Holman Hunt made a famous painting to illustrate Jesus’ statement that he was standing at the door of our hearts knocking. Hunt was asked if he hadn’t made a mistake because there is no handle on the outside of the door. Hunt said, no, that was deliberate. Jesus waits for us to open to him from the inside.

And just as Jesus doesn’t break down the door to get in, neither does he dominate us once inside. He doesn’t drive. His voice is not harsh and insistent like that of the enemy. When we make room for God in this sacred space, there is room. There is time–to think, to reflect, to decide what we really want.

Furthermore, contrary to the view of some, God is NOT always there to tell us what to do. Some Christians instinctively resist opening up their inner real estate to God because they seem to have a master-puppet conception of our relationship with God. If we were ever to be truly in tune with God, they imagine, we would just be obeying one command after another. His unceasing demands would crowd out our inner space completely. There would be no room to reflect and make decisions. Life would be one long oppressive succession of duties. In other words, we somehow believe that if we make room for God, there will be no room at all!

Some Christian teaching has perpetuated this unappealing view of the human being with what has been dubbed worm theology– “I’m so bad God must just want me for a boot-licking lackey. I’m so useless all I can do is take orders.” You remember that was exactly what the Prodigal Son thought after he’d taken his father’s money and blown it living a wild life with prostitutes and other disreputable people. All he could conceive was that the father might want him back as a slave. However, his father would hear none of it and immediately restored him to sonship. The love of his father heart overwhelmed any feelings of disappointment. He “had to celebrate and rejoice” because his lost son was found.

It is this image of God as father that really allows things to become clear. No matter how good he may be, no one is drawn to an overbearing father who smothers them at every turn with his demands. God has created in us the powerful desire to make up our own minds, to be able to create, not just take orders. When God created the animals, he didn’t tell Adam what to name them. Rather God brought them to Adam to see what he would name them. When we invite Jesus in, rather than simply tell us what to do all the time, he comes alongside us and makes suggestions, “Wouldn’t the relationship with your wife go a lot better if you held your tongue in situations like this?” When we ask him what he thinks we should do, he might throw it back on us, “What do you think you should do?” He appeals to our higher self. He trusts us more than we trust ourselves.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.Gal. 5:1

(Next)

Spiritual Formation

Responding to the Spirit (excerpt from “Whispers that Delight”)

The Spirit of Our Actions is What Counts

When we speak of responding to God in prayer, therefore, we do not mean an intellectual exercise of trying to discern our marching orders for the day (though he could direct us to specific actions, as we shall see). Our Father’s first order of business is not to assign tasks, but to transform hearts. He seeks a profound response, something we cannot manufacture by human ability. God is a Spirit and his kingdom a spiritual one. His interest lies in the attitude or spirit with which we carry out even the smallest task. Not what we do, but how we do it matters most. Jesus highlights this truth when he draws the disciples’ attention to a widow putting two small copper coins in the offering box (Luke 21:1-4). Her offering, though appearing paltry, dwarfed all the others because she gave with great love and self-sacrifice. The amount of money given was irrelevant. The only measurement that mattered was the size of her heart. On another occasion, Jesus conveys this principle to his disciples by telling them that something as inconsequential as the giving of a cup of cold water, when done with the right attitude, has eternal benefits (Mark 9:41).

God concerns himself with our spirit, something we cannot change on our own. He must work his grace into our lives through prayer. By looking to Jesus, not only do we understand that our response to God should be one of love, we are also empowered to carry it out. Just spending time listening to him automatically makes us more loving people in the same way one coal irradiates another. Frank Bartleman describes a prayer meeting during the great Pentecostal outpouring of the Spirit in the early 1900s when Jesus manifested himself for several hours to Bartleman and a friend. He said, “my whole being seemed to flow down before him, like wax before the fire,” and, Jesus “ravished our spirits with his presence.” The story fascinates me primarily because of the effect Bartleman says the encounter had upon him. “For days that marvellous presence seemed to walk by my side. The Lord Jesus was so real. I could scarcely take up with human conversation again. It seemed so crude and empty. Human spirits seemed so harsh, earthly fellowship a torment. How far we are naturally from the gentle spirit of Christ!” When we spend time with Jesus we conduct ourselves with a kinder, gentler disposition. He sweetens our spirit and softens the hard edges of our personality.

Without a revelation of Christ’s love, we cannot respond adequately. God demands our all and we will not give it unless we know his love by experience. We cannot give ourselves to someone we do not fully trust and we can only trust if we believe the person has our best interest at heart. The revelation of divine love loosens our grip on self-will and allows us to surrender to God’s will.

Uncategorized

Love, a Simple Secret for Hearing God (Excerpt from WHISPERS THAT DELIGHT)

Excerpt from WHISPERS THAT DELIGHT–Copyright © 2008 Andrew T. Hawkins

Hearing that God can speak directly to us can feel intimidating because of our seeming inability to tune into his voice. I certainly do not hear him so plainly in everyday experience. However, I find that most of the time my problem comes from not slowing down long enough to listen. As I run through life, my hurried footsteps harden the soil of my heart so that the word cannot penetrate. When we come to scripture with a quiet and receptive heart, and feel the love of God, we easily sense some directive from him. For example, if we are meditating on the story of the four friends bringing the paralytic to Jesus (Mark 2:1-12), we sense that we should go to greater lengths to help one of our friends. When we hear Jesus say to the paralysed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven”, we could feel challenged to receive more completely the forgiveness for a troubling fault. Or, knowing his desire to do good to us, we may sense that we ought to believe God for some difficult situation in our lives as the paralytic believed to be healed.
Speaking of this explicit guidance from God, Carlo Caretto says it arises from our abandonment to God’s love. “Live love, let love invade you. It will never fail to teach you what you must do. Charity, which is God in us, will point to the way ahead. It will say to you ‘Now kneel,’ or ‘Now leave’ . . . . Don’t interrogate heaven repeatedly and uselessly saying, ‘What course of action should I pursue?’ Concentrate on loving instead. And by loving you will find out what is for you. Loving, you will listen to the Voice.”  Love is a Person, not just a lifestyle. Like so many others before him, Caretto puts great confidence in God’s willingness to intervene in history and speak guiding words to us. He infers that we can reach a state of spiritual maturity where, at any given moment, we could be directed by God to know exactly what to do. However, this does not happen by fretful worrying about God’s will, but by simply giving ourselves to love which, it turns out, is God himself (1 John 4:7,8).