The Nonsense of God

 Luke 7:36, 8:3

One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. 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. She stood behind him 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. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he 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.’ Jesus spoke up and said to him, ‘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 cancelled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’ Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.’ And Jesus* said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’ Then turning towards the woman, he said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence, she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’ Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’

Soon afterwards he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him, as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.

One of the biggest challenges in the spiritual life is that God is not like us and we are continually trying to define him and form relationships with him based on common sense. How many times in your life have you heard, “Well, it’s just common sense,” or “Use your common sense”? Common sense is the understanding held by a majority of people and in many areas, common sense just makes…sense. The place where common sense often breaks down is in the spiritual life. In understanding the Lord, what we need to rely on is uncommon sense and quite often nonsense.

Let’s look at some of the world’s common sense. As a child, you learned that when you were polite, didn’t fight with your siblings, ate all your food and kept your room tidy, Mom and Dad were pleased with you. At school you learned that if you studied hard, did your homework and handed in assignments on time, the teacher was pleased with you and Mom, Dad and the teacher were even more pleased when you achieved high grades. In life in general, you learned that you should keep the speed limit, not steal, pay your bills, be honest and not hurt anyone. All this is common sense or what our society has deemed to be acceptable behavior necessary for a healthy society - and the common sense is right.

 Common sense in the spiritual life is good too, up to a point. Common sense helps individuals and communities, whether it’s families, parishes or the whole church, function in an orderly way.  The place where common sense breaks down is when we attempt to fit God into our common sense about love. When it comes to his love, he’s all nonsense. He doesn’t fit the mold. We are challenged to leave behind all common sense, otherwise we’ll never ‘get it’. 
   

It’s very easy to miss a key word in this week’s Gospel. It’s in verse 47 where Jesus says, “Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.”   The word that makes all the difference is “hence” or, in modern language, “therefore”.

This woman is weeping, her tears anointing Jesus’ feet as she pours expensive ointment on them. This woman has come knowing already that she has been forgiven her many sins.  Jesus said that her sins, which were many, “have been forgiven” not “will be forgiven”.  How did she know that her sins had been forgiven? Well, it wasn’t through common sense, that’s for sure. Common sense would have told her to stay away from that house. Common sense would have told her that as a sinful woman, most likely a prostitute, she was worthy of being stoned or, at the very least, scorned, judged and thrown out. That was the religious common sense of the Jewish society in those days. We don’t know if she entered that house in fear and trembling knowing the kind of reception common sense almost guaranteed she would receive from the Pharisee. However, something had penetrated common sense. It was the nonsense of God. She came in knowing that Jesus had already forgiven her and set her free from all her brokenness and sin. She came with the uncommon sense that she was a beautiful beloved child of God. She came in love knowing she was loved and that Jesus was the manifestation of the nonsense of God.

Common sense makes us read that sentence as “...her many sins have been forgiven because she has shown great love”. There is a very subtle difference but it’s one that keeps us from the nonsense of God. We interpret it to mean that Jesus pronounced her sins forgiven because she had come in and anointed his feet with tears and ointment. This makes sense to us because of all our natural common sense. If I do something good for Jesus, he will forgive my sins and love me. Certainly, we are called to express awareness of and repentance for our sins but in this gospel, the woman had already come face to face with her own inadequacies and failures and had already encountered the forgiveness of God. She was ministering to Jesus in pure love, not because she wanted to earn his love but because she wanted to show gratitude for the free gift of it. 

The nonsense of God is that in spite of all that is broken within us, in spite of all the times we fail and react in unhealthy ways, in spite of all the poor judgments we have made in our lives, we are completely and utterly loved. We can do nothing to make ourselves more loved. The act of repentance is not so that God will love us, it is so that we can move past our walls, be healed of our distortion and be freed from our blindness so that we can see and experience his inconceivably wild love and fall in love with him in return.

The woman came into the Pharisee’s home with her ointment and tears because she had fallen in love with God, not in order to make God love her. She wasn’t looking for a pat on the head, a high religious grade or a certificate of merit. She came in knowing that she had been forgiven much and though she had very little to offer in return, she offered what she had: overwhelming gratitude, tears of love and fragrant ointment. Perhaps she was inspired by Song of Songs 1:3, where the beloved said, “Your oils have a pleasing fragrance. Your Name is like ointment poured out; therefore (hence) the maidens love you.” 

In our world, our sense tells us we need to do and accomplish in order to earn and deserve.

God is not like us.

Thank God!

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Come for Supper...

Luke 9: 11-17

The day was drawing to a close, and the twelve came to him and said, ‘Send the crowd away, so that they may go into the surrounding villages and countryside, to lodge and get provisions; for we are here in a deserted place.’ But he said to them, ‘You give them something to eat.’ They said, ‘We have no more than five loaves and two fish—unless we are to go and buy food for all these people.’ For there were about five thousand people. And he said to his disciples, ‘Make them sit down in groups of about fifty each.’ They did so and made them all sit down. And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd. And all ate and were filled. What was left over was gathered up, twelve baskets of broken pieces.

When we lived in Victoria, I never really knew how many mouths I would be feeding come suppertime. The Lilypad, which was what the students named our home, was a bit of a drop-in center for university students and other young adults involved in the UVic Catholic community.  Having food available for anyone who dropped by was a ministry of joy as far as I was concerned and it seemed like no matter how many came along on any given day there was always more than enough to go around. It was wonderful to have these young adults at our table. There was lots of laughter and the meal would always end with a bit of scripture and some discussion. Sometimes the sharing and discussion went on for a long time.

At other times the students would use the Lilypad to get together for things like small group meetings, potlucks, birthday celebrations or just parties for no reason at all. At every gathering, food was an indispensable part of the agenda. We rented out a suite downstairs to Catholic students and sometimes both my kitchen and the kitchen downstairs would be hubs of creative cooking and laughter. Making the food was as joyous as consuming it.

When we were chaplains, we started the “Soup ‘n Soul Café”. Every week I made soup for 40 and after the late afternoon students’ Mass on Sunday, we would all gather for soup and buns after which there would be a short talk and discussion.

When I think about any vibrant community I have ever been involved with over the years, I don’t have to dig very deep to pull up good memories of sitting at a meal with the people in the community. I’m sure all of you have had exactly the same kind of experience: where there is ‘family’ there will be food. From small gatherings of our own families and relatives, to smaller groups we belong to within our parishes to parish potlucks to weekend retreats, it is at the table that we forge deeper bonds with those around us. We don’t really think too much about that. It’s just something we do.

Well, I’ve been thinking about it. I started writing a reflection on the Body and Blood of Christ last Saturday, intending to talk about God’s abundant provision but the whole time I’m wondering, “Why? Why is eating together so important and why has it been so important to all people of all times and all cultures? Jesus fed the 5000 - was there more to it than just showing the disciples and the people the amazing provision of God? Jesus told his disciples to organize the crowd into groups of fifty. Was this simply for logistics or were small communities of faith forged over the food that was provided and in the discussions that must have followed?"

Yes, I know, we can bring up all sorts of reasons as to why it’s nice to sit down to a meal with other people but in the end I have to conclude that it is a mystery of God. It’s a mystery because it’s so visceral. It has never been legislated or made law but community has always been centered around the sharing of food. To welcome you to my home I don’t automatically think of lending you all the books in my library. I’m probably not going to insist you take some of my furniture. I’m certainly not going to offer you money as an act of welcome though I may offer it if you are in need. What I will offer you is food. Even a cup of tea between two friends somehow speaks of the value of that friendship.

My son went to Viet Nam and made his way into the hill country where he met hill tribes, a venture certainly not open to tourists at that time. These people were very poor and my son quickly learned that he should not stay with one family too long because they would kill the chicken in order to feed him – and most only had one chicken.

We were created to eat with one another and to share our food as a symbol of our commitment to each other. We were created to share all that sustains us. Even atheists cannot resist the urge to share their food and to make food a center around which they sit face to face and speak of all that matters to them and laugh with one another. We could not have been created without that gut instinct because it is the central nature of the God who created all.

There is a Latin saying that goes, ‘Bonum est diffusi evum sui.’ Translation: 'It is the nature of goodness to diffuse itself.' God is pure goodness and his whole will and desire is to feed us and sit with us at table to laugh, share and to ponder on what is truth, what matters and what doesn’t. His whole movement is toward nurturing and sustaining us; he offers everything he has that will feed us. He offers us himself, his Body and Blood and says to us:

“Take. Eat. This is my Body. This the food of my Home offered to you and to all who gather at my table. Take. Eat. The journey is long and the night is cold but inside by the fire of my Spirit all are welcome. Take. Eat. There is plenty more where that came from.

You are always welcome to come for the meal - there is always room for one more at the table. Look around – all your friends and family are here too. Isn’t that glorious? We can all laugh, pray and hear one another’s sorrows. Outside there might be a chilling wind but in here, we can be warm in the presence of each other. As we break the bread and share the meal, we make sure everyone has enough. Everyone cares for each other by sharing the food I have provided.

Take. Eat. Love. Stay for a while. And when it’s time to go, take some with you for yourself and to share with those you meet on the road.”

It’s a mystery, another mystery flowing out from the Trinity Home. We can try to explain it and define it but in the end, it is simply because the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are keeping the home fires burning for us and because we are eternally welcome at the table. That spirit of welcome and sustenance overflows onto all so that very few can resist emulating the love of God poured out as food for his people. They may not understand where it’s coming from but it’s there deep in their spirits.

A very good friend of mine had a profound faith experience when she attended a Mass during a Lenten mission at a parish on Vancouver Island. Father Nigro, an elderly Jesuit from Gonzaga University in Spokane, was celebrating Mass and after the words of consecration, he held the Body (or the Blood) up high and when he brought it down he said, “Thank you! I love you too.” Through those 6 words the table became real, the food tangible and the love evident. Sometimes we need something like that to move us from the ordinary to the extraordinary and to remind us that the Eucharist is at the same time both natural and supernatural and that we are honored and welcomed - welcomed home for supper.

There is only one rule at the table of the Lord. Please don’t eat and run.
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