Sermon Archive

It was a dinner party for Jesus, and Simon wanted everything to be “proper” and “correct,” even though his disagreements were too many to let him greet Jesus with unreserved warmth. Still, Simon was impressed by the growing reputation of this itinerant teacher, whom some even believed to be a prophet. Well, this night would offer Simon his chance to take the measure of the man.

Everything seemed ready. The couches on which Simon and his guests would recline to eat, in accordance with custom, had been covered with fine feather mattresses and placed in a circle, head inward. At their center was the low table on which the servants would present first the food and then the concluding wine course, called the symposium. This symposium would be the highlight of the evening, the time when Simon and his guests would have their long, serious discussion about God’s commandments, the time when Simon would have his chance to test Jesus’s mettle.

Of course, if, in truth, this man was a prophet, he would be taking Simon’s measure as well. For prophets could read people’s hearts. But surely any true prophet would find Simon’s heart righteous and worthy, for he’d been studying both written and oral Torah since he was a boy, and now, as a Pharisee, he was a teacher of these commandments.

The guests were beginning to arrive. First came Saul, then Joseph, then Eliezer and Zechariah together. These were Simon’s closest friends. And a few minutes later Jesus was ushered in. The five greeted him respectfully, yet not warmly.

After the initial formalities, Simon escorted his guests to the couches, where each, according to custom, reclined on his left side—head toward the center of the circle, feet toward the perimeter, left arm propped up on pillows, right hand free to handle the food and goblets. As the servants brought around water for the first washing of hands, Simon was reflecting on the various courses he’d planned. It suddenly occurred to him how impressive it would be to offer his guests during the symposium a spiced wine. So he beckoned to his butler and whispered instructions to send out the wine steward to procure the necessary spices.

Jacob was out of breath as he raced to Capernaum’s only other spice and perfume shop. His master’s usual supplier had already closed, and he prayed that this other one would still be open. Jacob knew it to be owned by a Jewish freedwoman, but he couldn’t recall her name. Jacob hoped that some day he, too, would be able to buy his freedom, just as she had been able to do. Then he, too, could open a shop and become wealthy. Of course, as an ex-slave, he’d never gain high social standing, but he could at least get rich.

The woman’s shop came into view, and, blessedly, it was open. He hurried in, found the proprietor, and ordered the spices. As the woman fetched them, Jacob chatted with her about how excited he was that he would soon be serving the person everyone in town was talking about—the prophet Jesus.

It didn’t take the woman long to complete the order. And Jacob then handed her his coins, took the spices, and exited hastily.

Salome—for that was the name of this freedwoman—Salome was left musing to herself, “So Jesus has gone to Simon’s house for dinner, and the symposium will soon begin.” She thought for a minute. Yes, she really did have the chutzpah to do it. She would slip into that party uninvited and offer Jesus her thanks.

You see, Salome knew a lot about parties and how to slip in and out of them, even though she’d never attended one in the role of guest. The symposium at a Pharisee’s house might be a time for religious conversation, but the symposium at a Roman centurion’s house was a time for bawdy revelry, with the female slaves, flute players, and dancers forced to play the part of courtesan. Salome had been a centurion’s slave, and, yes, she’d been quite a successful courtesan, learning a lot along the way—including much about spices, and perfumes, and aromatic oils.

Over time, Salome had been able to save up enough from her “tips” to buy her freedom and to set up her own spice and perfume shop. Her business had flourished, but most of the people in town still thought of her as a prostitute. Indeed, the immorality of her earlier life had long haunted her own conscience.

She’d often awakened terrified from her recurring nightmares, and in those horrific moments she’d calmed herself by reciting the ancient psalm her mother had taught her as a girl, before the Romans had sacked their home and taken her whole family into slavery.

That psalm went, “Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Hear my voice! If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities … who could stand? But there is forgiveness with you.… I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in God’s word I hope.… For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with God is great power to redeem.”

Then just last year a traveler had stopped by Salome’s shop and talked ever so excitedly about a new prophet in the south named John the Baptist. He’d recounted how John welcomed even tax-collectors and prostitutes, offering them a sign of God’s cleansing and forgiveness by baptizing them in the Jordan River.

Well, the very next day, Salome had set forth on the long journey southward, to the wilderness of Judea, and there she had found John. After several days of listening to him preach, Salome had then joined with many others to walk waist deep into the Jordan and receive John’s baptism. And sure enough, when she'd emerged from those waters, she’d felt healed and whole.

But back home in Capernaum, most people hadn’t put much stock in her story of repentance, and they’d continued to ostracize her.

Then the best thing in her whole life had happened. A new teacher and prophet had come to her very own city, Capernaum, making it his home base. From there he’d begun teaching large crowds of people both along the Sea of Galilee and out in the countryside.

This man’s name was Jesus, and Salome had gone to hear him many times. Whenever he spoke, God seemed so near. And like John the Baptizer, Jesus was glad to have in his audience the likes of tax- collectors and prostitutes. To these he spoke words of gracious welcome, and through Jesus Salome had felt even more strongly the power of God’s forgiveness and love. Indeed, through Jesus she’d at last come to feel fully restored both to human dignity and to worth in the sight of God. Salome had wanted to thank Jesus in person, but somehow the crowds were always too big to get near enough to do that.

Yet now Salome knew that Jesus was at Simon’s house, and she could seize the opportunity to thank Jesus face-to-face. So from her shelves, she chose the alabaster flask that held her most precious perfume. Then quickly she stepped outside into the twilight.

Salome knew a lot about parties and about how to slip in and out of them. And soon she was standing in the dim glow of Simon’s lamps, on the perimeter of the couches, where servants moved. She circled slowly through the shadows, unnoticed by Jesus or the other men, until she could kneel at the foot of his couch.

And having done so, Salome was overcome by a sudden, silent flood of tears—tears of sorrow over her former life, tears of joy for God’s forgiveness, tears of wonder at being so near her Lord. Her tears streamed down her cheeks and then onto Jesus’ s feet, and when he felt them, he, and everyone else in the room, turned to look at her.

Salome, embarrassed, had no towel, so instinctively she did what she’d done hundreds of times before at such a party, albeit for a very different purpose. She removed her head covering, loosened her hair, and began using those long tresses of hers to wipe Jesus’s feet. Then, seized by a depth of gratitude for pardon and a purity of love that she had never before felt so deeply, she broke open her alabaster flask, kissed Jesus’s feet, and anointed them with her precious perfume.

Now, Simon was so horrified by what was unfolding before his eyes that he could neither speak nor move. This well-known harlot was profaning his house with this lewd behavior of hers, and this man whom he had even thought might be a prophet seemed to be accepting of such actions.

Yes, Simon neither spoke nor moved. But Jesus instantly read his heart. “Simon, I have something to say to you,” he said—to which Simon replied, through clenched teeth, “Well, teacher, say it.”

And Simon found himself listening to something Jesus was famous for, a parable—this one, something about two debtors, one of whom owed their creditor ten times as much as the other. When neither could pay, the creditor forgave both their debts.

Simon thought, “What’s a story about two debtors got to do with what’s happening here?” Then, through the fog of his anger, Simon heard Jesus asking him. “Simon, which of the debtors should love and thank the creditor more?” And Simon found himself muttering, “I suppose the one for whom the greater debt was canceled.” And he heard Jesus replying, “You’re right!”

Well, outwardly, Simon succeeded in remaining somewhat composed. But inwardly, he was exploding to himself. “Of course I’m right, but what’s that got to do with what’s going on here. This woman’s a harlot, and you’re is accepting her advances!”

Again, Jesus read Simon’s heart and tried explaining to him that the woman’s behavior had not been lewd, that she was no longer a harlot, that she was a woman who had been forgiven much, that her present actions were arising from such a deep gratitude for God’s mercy that her expressions of love toward the one who had made God known to her were this lavish. Jesus also noted that earlier that evening Simon had refrained from showing him that same kind of warm, effusive love. Jesus’s implication was clear. Simon was too filled with a sense of his own righteousness to express anything more than lukewarm, inhibited feelings of love toward him or toward God.

Now as all this was being spoken and done above her, Salome was still kneeling at Jesus’s feet, so lost in her feelings of love for God and for Jesus that she hadn’t at all heard what was being said. But then she felt Jesus put his hand lightly on her shoulder. Salome responded by looking up into his eyes and then by rising, slowly, to her feet. And she heard Jesus saying to her, “Woman, your sins have been forgiven. Your faith has brought you salvation. Go now, in peace.”

And the deepest joy and calm that Salome had ever known settled into her heart as she slipped out once again into the shadows beyond the lamplight, to the silence of the streets.

Now the moral of my story is this: the most beautiful expressions of love toward God come not from those of us who think of ourselves as righteous but rather from those of us who acknowledge ourselves to be sinful and seek the healing touch of God’s forgiveness.

“Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Hear my voice! If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities … who could stand? But there is forgiveness with you.… [W]ith [you] there is steadfast love, and … great power to redeem.”