3rd Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 6C) – June 17, 2007 “Mirror, Mirror”
2 Samuel 11:26-12:10, 13-15; Luke 7: 36-50
St. Giles Church, Northbrook IL – The Rev. Cynthia J. Hallas
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is the blindest one of all?
What do you see when you look in the mirror? The person you are, ‘warts and all’? The person you used to be, a younger version of yourself? Do you only look at what you want to see, or are you willing to acknowledge the imperfections or signs of aging that are visible? Some one once said that you know you’re getting old when you look in the mirror and see your same-gender parent; older still, when you look and see your same-gender grandparent. Looking in the mirror can be a humbling experience on any number of levels; unless it’s one of those goofy funhouse mirrors with the wavy surface, a mirror will always tell us the truth, even if we choose not to see it ourselves.
At least that’s true with our physical appearance, but what about what goes deeper? What about our selves, our souls, our psyches? Our motives, our behavior, our priorities? Not every mirror is made of glass and metal. Figuratively speaking, a mirror can be anything (or anyone) that causes us to look at ourselves and see the truth about us, no matter how unpleasant or self-incriminating that can be.
In both our Old Testament and Gospel passages this morning, stories function as mirrors. A story is told in order to convict someone (in both cases it’s someone with authority, someone powerful) of their sin and their blindness. The first tale is one of the better known in the Hebrew scriptures: King David, having seen the beautiful Bathsheba bathing on her roof and lusting after her, has sent her helpless and loyal husband to the front lines in combat against the Ammonites, a situation that would guarantee his death in battle. David is every bit as much to blame for Uriah’s death as if he had taken the sword and struck down Uriah himself. This was first-degree, cold-blooded, pre-meditated murder. Bathsheba has become David’s wife and the mother of his son, but David has not repented and God is very angry. The prophet Nathan is sent by God to provide the mirror that David needs in order to understand and accept the consequences of his actions. The story that Nathan tells the king is one of injustice, cruelty, theft, and selfishness; a story that stirs David toward ‘righteous’ anger, desire for justice for the innocent poor man and capital punishment for the offender; but a story in which he fails to see himself writ large as the villain. And then the true purpose of the story is revealed: You are the man! Nathan tells David, as he reveals the king’s secret sin. David is left to say the only thing he can say with any integrity at this point: I have sinned against the Lord. Then Nathan spells out the chilling, dreadful consequences: David’s sin is ‘put away’, but the child born to him and Bathsheba will die. David, King of Israel with hundreds at his beck and call, looks into the mirror of his greed and lust and treachery, and sees nothing but more death, tragedy, and mourning. That’s a pretty horrifying reflection.
Jesus’ invitation to the home of Simon the Pharisee offers another example of story as mirror, a trick that Jesus employed on many occasions. This was still early on in Jesus’ ministry; his popularity with the masses was on the ascent but already the religious establishment, including the Pharisees of which Simon was one, were beginning both to notice him and to see him as a threat. Simon no doubt considered it something of a coup to get this popular rabbi to dine with him; it also gave him a chance to see firsthand just what the buzz was all about. It was a customary act a sign of hospitality in those days to greet one’s guest with a kiss; it was also standard hospitality to have a servant come around and wash the feet of one’s guests, perhaps to allow the guest to refresh himself with a fragrant oil or lotion. But Simon offered none of this to Jesus. So, no sooner had they all gotten settled for dinner, when in off the street walks a woman with an alabaster jar and a really lousy reputation. She hasn’t come to solicit custom, however; in fact what she does is quite remarkable and incredibly brave. She goes straight to Jesus, the guest of honor, and begins to bathe his feet with her tears and wiping them dry with her hair – her unbound hair, which the guests would probably have seen as a sign of intimacy, but may in fact have had more to do with grief over her sins and gratitude for her hoped-for forgiveness - then continuing she anoints him with the ointment in her jar and kisses his feet. Jesus’ failure to protest this action, his acceptance of her ministrations, causes his credibility to be diminished in Simon’s eyes – this was probably a very satisfying moment for Simon - but of course it’s precisely because Jesus is a prophet, and so much more, that he understands exactly what this woman is doing and what she needs. Simon, who once again has offered nothing in the way of hospitable greeting to Jesus, gets his come-uppance in the form of a parable, a mirror in which Simon can see clearly the truth in the story but not the lie in his own life. When he answers Jesus’ question as to which of the two forgiven debtors will ‘love’ the creditor more, Jesus says “You have judged rightly.” And I think Jesus’ word choice here is significant. Judging is what Simon does. He judges Jesus, he judges the unnamed woman with the alabaster jar; in fact he is so busy judging others that he misses his own unloving reflection in the mirror Jesus holds to him. Jesus must explain how the story, the mirror, tells Simon the truth about himself and unlike King David, we aren’t privy to Simon’s response.
But there is at work here a mirror that is far more powerful and accurate than the story that Jesus tells Simon. That mirror is the woman herself. By her striking act of boldness and love, her ministrations to Jesus, even her very presence in that room she has brought into sharp focus Simon’s failure of hospitality which was, of course, a failure of love.
I notice a couple of other things these two passages have in common. In both cases the subject – David, Simon – doesn’t get it; the story must be explained to them by the prophets – Nathan, Jesus. With David we at least see recognition of the sin; with Simon, we just don’t know.
The other thing these passages have in common is that the subjects are both people of faith – they are both devout Jews. They are the folks who not only are supposed to know how to live rightly, they are also expected to set examples for others – to live out the faith they profess. David was king of Israel – widely acknowledged as the greatest king they ever knew. He had been chosen by God, anointed for his role in leading the people. Simon, a member of the Pharisees, was supposed to be an interpreter and keeper of the law, a diligent student of his faith and should have understood that first and above all else, both the law and the prophets proclaim mercy and justice and love. It isn’t the gentiles, the pagans, the nonbelievers that God reprimands here – it’s those who profess to follow the ways of God and then allow their own selfish motives to get in the way of their discipleship.
And when I look at this woman, unnamed and disgraced in that setting, unimportant in that world, I see her symbolizing, even embodying all those people in our societies who suffer disgrace; all those who struggle with poverty and injustice and violence; all those who go unloved and yet are capable of great love. But in her, as in Nathan, as in Jesus himself, I also see all those people who serve as mirrors for us – friends, family, colleagues, teachers, advocates, peacemakers, sometimes even perfect strangers – unlikely prophets all - who help us understand where and when and how we might have strayed from the path of righteousness (to use a very Biblical phrase!). How we respond to that is, of course, up to us. And each of us, by virtue of our baptism, has been made to be a mirror for others: a witness to God’s mercy, Christ’s love, the Spirit’s power; a voice, a face, a presence to contradict the world’s values and show forth a better way. And isn’t that what the Christian life is all about? Facing our own sins and failures, asking God’s forgiveness and trying to lead a more holy life; and then providing to the world that witness to God’s way that it so badly needs. In doing both of these, may all of us live more fully into the faith that we proclaim. Amen.