- Sermon - Mickey Anders

Text: Luke 7:36-8:3

Bass Mitchell, my preacher friend from West Virginia, tells about the damaged goods bin at the grocery store where he worked in his first job. He says:

"I started out as a bag boy but soon was promoted - given my own aisle to stock. Trucks brought in hundreds of boxes of food every week and we had to unpack them and put the stock on the shelves. Almost every week, however, we would open a box and find that some of the cans or cartons had been damaged. Some of the cans, for example had lost their labels, had dents, were crushed, and sometimes so badly that some of the contents had come out.

"Well, we were told by the manager not to put these on the shelves because no one would buy them. So, we often would place them in a large basket in the front of the store. And on the basket was a large sign that read, "Damaged Goods. Cheap." But not very many people bought them. Most just ignored them. Often we ended up sending them back to the manufacturers.

Bass Mitchell adds, "It seems to me that a lot of people feel like this. Whatever the reason, things they've done, things life has done to them, things beyond their control, have made them feel like damaged goods...bent out of shape, crushed, of little value to themselves or anyone else."

Rev. Mitchell once saw a woman being interviewed on television. She was a single parent with two children and had been divorced several years. She was being asked what it was like being a single parent and if there was any romance in her life now. "I look at myself," she said, "as damaged goods." She did not think anyone could love her again. Her sense of worth was zero.

I wonder if the woman in our text for today felt that way about herself. Did she feel like she was damaged goods, valued by no one, ignored by many and perhaps looked down on by the rest?

The first surprising aspect of this passage is that Jesus was eating a meal at the home of a Pharisee. We usually expect all the Pharisees to be the mortal enemies of Jesus. But many scholars suggest that the Pharisees were actually the Jewish group that was closest to Jesus in theology and emphasis. In Acts, we find the Apostle Paul beginning his preaching ministry in the synagogues. But when large groups of Jewish people began to leave the synagogues to become Christians, the Pharisees finally put a stop to Christians preaching in the synagogue. The conflict between Christians and the Pharisees really emerged about fifty years later, about the time that the Gospels were being written.

We find several incidences in the New Testament where Pharisees were clearly sympathetic to Jesus, and several times like this when Jesus shared at meal at the home of a Pharisee.

Apparently there was a crowd of people who moved freely in and out of the house to be near Jesus and hear his teaching. Among the crowd was this woman, identified as a “sinner.” Most people assume that a woman who was labeled so publicly as a sinner was probably a prostitute.

But we must be quick to point out that there is no identification of this woman with Mary Magdalene. She is mentioned in the early verses of the next chapter, but there is no historical or Biblical evidence that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute.

When we find her in this passage, the sinful woman is showering tears on Jesus because he reacted to her so differently from everybody else. She probably had lots of experience with the kind of judgmental, condemnatory religion that Simon the Pharisee represents. At long last she has found someone who valued her, and the experience brought her to profuse tears.

I want to suggest that Simon the Pharisee represents a form of sick religion. Did you know that religion can be sick? One of my seminary professors, Dr. Wayne Oates, once wrote a book entitled, “When Religion Gets Sick.” When we think of sick religion, we usually think of the person in the mental hospital who thinks he is God. But religion can be sick and give all the appearances of normalcy. I believe Simon's religion was sick because it revealed a religion colored by merciless attitudes, as opposed to the healthy religion of Jesus filled with grace.

The Pharisee had spent too much time dwelling on the details of the law of Moses, but not much time studying the character of God, particularly as revealed by Jesus. Everywhere we see Jesus, we find him welcoming sinners and forgiving them. But Simon represents the kind of religion that builds barriers to keep "sinners" away and promotes an arrogant attitude of superiority.

Do you have the sick religion of the Pharisees, or the healthy religion of Jesus? A pastor named Tommy McDearis suggests four tests for determining the presence of a healthy faith.

1) Does my faith liberate or incarcerate my spirit?

A healthy faith causes us to examine our lives, our sin, our relationship with God so that we are released from guilt and pain and experience the grace of God. Which one of our main characters was free and which one was still in prison? I believe the woman who experienced grace was free, the Pharisee was bound by his own prejudices.

2) Does my faith breed compassion, love, and forgiveness for others?

A healthy faith makes us more open, trusting, and caring. Sick religion builds barriers of distrust, pessimism, cynicism, paranoia, and judgment. Healthy faith is healing and unifying.

3) Does my faith help me to understand why people act, feel, or believe as they do?

Unhealthy religion condemns what it does not understand and it calls it evil. Healthy faith says, "Why do they act as they do, and how can my faith speak to their needs?"

4) Does my faith compel me to share my life, my possessions, and my love for Christ with others?

Healthy faith is so joyous and life-giving that we wish for others to experience it. Here we find this woman labeled "sinner" who is bringing her very best gift of ointment and pouring it lavishly on Jesus' feet. A healthy religion always results in a generous spirit. (Tommy McDearis, The Abingdon Preaching Annual 2001, p. 231-232.)

Jesus represented this kind of healthy faith and wants us to have the same. When Jesus looked at this poor woman, he did not see "damaged goods," but a person of value and worth. He saw a person worth redeeming.

With Jesus, forgiveness comes first and is what enables us to begin living lives of love. It's not an "if-then" logic -- 'if you repent, then you will be forgiven.' It's a "because-therefore" logic -- 'because you have already been forgiven, therefore you are freed to respond with a changed life, a heart that turns to God.' In the same way, we are called to love our enemies because God has first loved us in that way; God has forgiven us while we were still enemies.

One day, in order to get a class discussion going, sociology professor Tony Campolo asked his students what some of the world's great religious leaders might have said about prostitution. The discussion was lively and intense. He was setting up the class to evangelize, and when he felt that the time was ripe, he asked what seemed to be the crucial question, "What do you suppose Jesus would have said to a prostitute?"

He was all primed to point out to the class the compassion and understanding which Jesus had for the colorful women of the night. He was all set to do his best to make Jesus look greater than all the great religious leaders put together. Once again he asked, "What do you think Jesus would have said to a prostitute?"

One of his students answered, "Jesus never met a prostitute." He jumped at the opening. He would show this guy a thing or two about Jesus and about the New Testament. "Yes he did," he responded. "I'll show you in my Bible where...."

The young man interrupted him. "You didn't hear me Doctor. I said Jesus never met a prostitute."

Once again Campolo protested. Once again he reached for his New Testament. He started to leaf through its pages searching for those passages, which showed Jesus forgiving the fallen women. He searched for the place where he gave the woman at the well a chance for spiritual renewal.

Once again the student, who was Jewish, spoke out, this time with a touch of anger in his raised voice. "You re not listening to what I am saying. I am saying that Jesus never met a prostitute. Do you think that when he looked at such a woman he saw a prostitute? Do you think he saw whores when he looked at women like her? Doctor, listen to me! Jesus never met a prostitute!"

Campolo fell silent. He was being corrected by a Jewish student who, in some ways, may have understood Jesus better than some of us who go by the name Christian. (The preceding illustration was provided by The Rev Fred Demaray and published in Aha!, Wood Lake Books)

When Jesus looks at us, he does not see damaged goods. He represents a kind of healthy religion that is redemptive and life-changing, not one that labels and condemns.

Fred Craddock tells of the time he and his wife slipped away to the mountains for a few days of relaxation. As they sat in a little restaurant, they saw a man going from table to table greeting diners. Eventually he made his way to the Craddock's table and, learning that Fred was a minister, he insisted on telling them his story.

The man said he had been born just a few miles from that spot, across the mountain. His mother had not been married when he was born, and the criticism directed at her also hit him. His schoolmates learned from their parents how to ridicule, and the boy learned to stay to himself at lunch and recess, lest their insults strike too hard. Even more difficult were trips to town with his mother when he could feel the looks and the shaking of heads, and he heard the question, "I wonder who his father is?"

When he was about twelve, a new pastor came to the little community church. People talked about his skill as a preacher, and the boy began to go hear for himself. He was fascinated by the preacher, but he was always careful to slip in late, sit in the back and leave early, lest someone catch him and ask, "What's a boy like you doing here?"

One Sunday, though, he was so caught up in the service that he forgot to slip out before it was over. Suddenly he felt a big hand on his shoulder, and as he turned around he saw the face of that preacher. The preacher said, "Who are you, son? Whose boy are you?" His young heart sank at the question, but then the preacher went on: "Wait a minute. I know who you are. The family resemblance is unmistakable. You are a child of God!" And with that he patted the boy on the back and added, "Boy, that's quite an inheritance. Go and claim it."

As the boy changed to manhood in that restaurant, the old man said to Fred and his wife, "That one statement literally changed my whole life." He explained that his name was Ben Hooper and he had twice been elected governor of the state of Tennessee. His had been a successful and respected life, made possible by a small-town minister who cared enough to encourage a little boy. (Quoted in Preaching, March/April, 95)

In the grocery store where Bass Mitchell watched the "Damaged Goods" basket, he found that most people never even looked in that basket. But there was this one man named Mr. Christopher, who was a regular customer. He would always go to the damaged goods basket and buy several items there. One day Bass asked him why he did that when most other people didn't. He said, "Nothing's really wrong with these," holding up a can that had part of the label gone and several dents. "It's just bent up a little. On the inside it's as good as the ones on the shelves, and it's what's on the inside that counts, isn't it?"

There is another man, my friends, who is always on the lookout for damaged goods. It doesn't matter to him how bent out of shape, how damaged they are, for he looks at the inside. You might seem as worthless as damaged goods to others or in your own eyes, but not to him. To him, you are of worth. You are valued goods, so valued that he has purchased you with his very own life. So, come out of that damaged goods basket. That's not for you anymore. You've been bought with a price.