It’s very common for many of us to avoid as much as is possible all
of those people we don’t particularly like. Perhaps the reason for
avoiding them due to the fact that they’ve hurt us. People
oftentimes will say things and do things that hurt others, sometimes
unintentionally and sometimes intentionally. Perhaps the reason we
avoid all of those people is that we don’t share their values. It’s
very difficult to enjoy the company of a person with whom we have
profound theological, philosophical, or political disagreements.
Or, perhaps, our personalities clash. Differences in temperament
and approach can make it difficult to find common ground that makes
it possible to have a relationship.
No matter what the reason we may advance to justify why we avoid the
people we don’t particularly like, the simple fact is that we see
them in a certain way. Then, we justify our judgments by pointing
out what, in particular, is wrong with each and every one of them.
Unfortunately, this
behavior isn’t
reserved to any particular age group. Yes, the elderly do tend
to have and to voice very strong opinions about other people.
But, let us not forget, their children also have very strong
opinions about other people, including in-laws, relatives,
neighbors, fellow co-workers, and the life. And their
grandchildren and great-grandchildren possess equally strong
opinions. The things that our young people have to say about
their peers sometimes is, quite frankly, unconscionable.
Now, the simple fact is that this all-too-common behavior doesn’t
develop overnight. No, it’s actually quite similar to how cataracts
develop on the human eye.
Normally, the lens of the human eye is clear. Located near the
front of the eye, the lens focuses light on the retina, which is
located at the back of the eye, sort of like a camera lens. Light
then passes through the lens to produce a sharp image on the retina
(upside down of course). However, as a cataract begins to develop,
the lens becomes cloudy, similar to a frosted window.
Most times, a person is not aware as a cataract first begins to
develop, especially if the cataract is located on the outer edge of
the lens, because there’s
no noticeable
change in vision . But, if the cataract first begins to
develop near the center of the lens, cloudiness in vision is visible
because the cataract is interfering with clear sight.
Then, as a cataract develops, there may be hazy, fuzzy and blurred
vision. Double vision may also occur. Concurrently, the eye grows
more sensitive to light and glare, oftentimes making driving at
night not only difficult but painful. As a cataract worsens,
stronger prescription glasses no longer improve eyesight and the
person afflicted with a cataract will hold objects closer to the
eye, for example, when reading a book or completing close-up work,
like a crossword puzzle, Jumble, or Sudoku.
Lastly, the pupil of the eye—which is normally black—undergoes
noticeable color changes and appears to have turned yellowish or
white. The color hasn’t
changed, of course. The cataract is causing what appears to be
a change in color.
At this point, those afflicted with cataracts become so blind that
much of what is transpiring around them goes unseen.
The only remedy is to remove the cataract surgically and, until the
eye is healed, light can cause excruciating pain. That’s
why patients who undergo cataract surgery have to wear those
odd-looking, wrap-around type of very dark sunglasses. They’re
designed to keep out as much light as is possible.
So what has all of this to do with today’s
scripture readings?
In light of the common behavior to want to avoid people because we
see them in a certain way and we justify our judgments by pointing
out what, in particular, is wrong with them, Jesus asks a question
of Simon the Pharisee in today’s gospel—“Do you see this woman?”—a
question we ought to consider very carefully. Why? Because Jesus
follows up his question with an observation which has much to teach
us about how we view other people and what this says not about
them but about us.
So, placing ourselves in the position of Simon the Pharisee, Jesus
asks us about all those people we want to avoid as much as is
possible. “Do you see these persons?” Like Simon, is what we see
informed and colored by past experiences and interpretations which
reinforce our initial perceptions in such ways that we don’t ever
move beyond our initial interpretations? Do we cite, by chapter and
verse, practically every element of the experience giving rise to
what we believe is the correct interpretation?
Notice in this passage that Luke does not tell us what sort of sins
the woman has committed. No, her sins are a matter of interest to
us, enabling us to speculate about her in a way that would not only
justify our being critical of the woman but also in justifying
ourselves when we are critical of those people who have sinned
against us. Isn’t
that a cute psychological trick?
For the sake of understanding better what Jesus is teaching Simon
the Pharisee, let me suggest that most of us don’t really see
these people. No, what we see are shadows, giving evidence of
spiritual cataracts that are keeping us from seeing these people
with greater acuity of vision. The cataracts have formed and
developed to the point that today they are now obscuring our vision
so that all we see and how we judge them is by what we believe is
wrong with them...all the while not knowing that we are blind.
How did Simon the Pharisee exhibit that his eyes were blinded by
spiritual cataracts?
Reading today’s
gospel, it appears that
Simon was very impressed with himself, seeing himself as a good man
in God’s sight as well as in the sight of all his fellow Jews.
Simon’s self-understanding, then, led him to conclude—albeit
erroneously but, he believed quite accurately—that the woman who was
anointing Jesus’
feet
was a great sinner. In Simon’s
estimation, the woman stood in need of a great amount of
forgiveness. In contrast, Simon, who was conscious of no sin, had
no desire for or need of forgiveness. He was a righteous man
and could prove it!
In his commentary on the Gospel of Luke, William Barclay wrote: “The
one thing which shuts a [human being] off from God is
self-sufficiency....The better a [human being] is, the more [this
person] feels [one’s] sin....It is true to say that the greatest of
sins is to be conscious of no sin; but a sense of need will open the
door to the forgiveness of God, because God is love, and love’s
greatest glory is to be needed” (p. 95).
Do you get a sense of how Simon the Pharisee has so much to reveal
to us about ourselves and especially how the most damning—and
perhaps most undetected—of all sins, as William Barclay noted, is to
be conscious of no sin? Do you get a sense of how this sin exhibits
itself for all to see when we condemn others—whether
in our minds or in our words and actions—as
sinners?
Simon’s spiritual cataracts made it impossible for him to see this
woman and the true state of her soul. Categorizing her as a
“sinner”
(and a “very bad sinner,” at that), Simon was incapable of seeing
that, despite her great sin, the woman was still one of God’s
beloved daughters, standing in great need of God’s love.
Furthermore, and perhaps worse yet, let us also recognize how
Simon’s spiritual cataracts make it impossible for Simon to see the
true state of his soul. Categorizing himself as
“righteous”
and “justified,”
Simon was incapable of seeing that, despite being one of God’s
beloved sons,
he was a sinner who stood in need of great forgiveness.
While the events transpiring inside of his house scandalized Simon,
it is Simon’s judgment of the woman—“If this man were a prophet, he
would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him,
that she is a sinner”—which scandalized Jesus. Telling Simon the
parable of the two debtors, Jesus—who was not afflicted with
spiritual cataracts—leads Simon to demonstrate for all to see how
Simon can judge rightly when it comes to worldly matters, but how
miserably Simon fails when it comes to judging rightly spiritual
matters. Simon, who thinks himself incredibly perceptive about
worldly matters, is completely blind to spiritual matters.
Putting ourselves in the place of Simon the Pharisee, it is quite
likely that we are equally expert in judging rightly when it comes
to worldly matters. And yet, according to the parable of the two
debtors, Simon and all of us have something in common: we are
debtors to the same creditor—who is God—and neither of us can meet
our obligation.
So, how do we get cured from the spiritual cataracts that we have
allowed to blind us?
Like the sinful woman, the more we become aware of our debt to
God—that we have sinned—the better a person we become, spiritually
speaking.
How might this be so?
To answer this question, we need to focus once again and a bit more
intently upon the woman. Aware of the magnitude of her sin and need
for forgiveness, the woman demonstrates great love by going far
beyond what was necessary to welcome Jesus. A great sinner is
capable of great love! Should not only a great and holy person
be capable of great love?
The lesson is clear: when sinners experience God’s forgiveness, this
realization engenders greater love—it surgically removes the
cataracts—because feeling accepted by God allows God to work in our
souls to produce great acts of love for those who have trespassed
against us.
This is how we become ministers of God’s word and disciples of His
only begotten Son. As we recognize that we are sinners and admit
our need for forgiveness, we grow in our openness to and
consciousness of the opportunity that exists to love sinners. We do
not ignore sin, but recognize that the effects of sin are only
reversed—just as we are cured of our spiritual cataracts—when we
offer sinners the gift of God’s love and forgiveness that has
already been given to us.
William Barclay is likely correct in his judgment: the most damaging
of sins is to be conscious of no sin, that is, to be blinded by
spiritual cataracts. The surgery required to remove these cataracts
is that of allowing the light of God’s
truth to burn into the darkness of our blindness, making us more
conscious of the greatness of our sins and of our great need for
God’s forgiveness. When we seek forgiveness—like the sinful woman
in today’s gospel—God cancels our debt, freeing us from the power of
sin so that we might demonstrate greater love for others.
After Jesus asked Simon: “Do you see this woman?”, he stated: “…the
one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Stated as a
spiritual principle, what Jesus said was: “Those who are forgiven
the most are those who love the most.” In short: if we have not
experienced great forgiveness, we cannot love greatly.
This is a very powerful spiritual principle requiring that we be
willing to undergo spiritual cataract surgery. Yes, after the
surgery as our eyes are healing, we will experience pain as the
light of truth burns our weak eyes as it strengthens them to see
other people in the light of God’s
truth. But, the evidence of our healing will eventually manifest
itself in the way we see others. Whereas we used to see them
only as great sinners
in need of great forgiveness—as
Simon the Pharisee saw the woman—we
will now see them as God sees us.
But, let us not think the woman was forgiven because of her lavish
demonstrations of love. No, in light of the principle “Those who
are forgiven the most are those who love the most,” let us adopt the
view that her loving actions followed from her experience of having
been forgiven much.
Will Simon see Jesus as the prophet and agent of God’s forgiveness?
Will Simon be persuaded to adopt this perspective and will he let go
of seeing this woman as a sinner? Will Simon see himself as someone
who is in need of great forgiveness as well? We don’t know the
answers to these questions. Like all good parables, the story
remains for us to complete.
So, Jesus asks us today: “Do you see these people?” We will know
that we have been healed of our spiritual cataracts when the words
we speak are those of understanding and compassion rather than
indignation and self-justification. |