Summary

For 22 years, Susan Coleman kept herself as a gift to be given on this day. And the evening of that day — our wedding day, May 28, 1983, we consummated our covenant in a passionate, intimate, and uninhibited, holy communion. She gave herself to me, like an alabaster flask filled with perfumed oil, a fragrant offering.

Imagine, if on the morning of May 29, she rolled over and found three 100-dollar bills and a note that said, “That was great! I hope this is enough.” Imagine how she’d feel. Does Jesus ever feel that way?

Or spin it around. I vowed my very self to her. And for 41 years, she’s taken every paycheck. But imagine if on the night of May 28, 1983, having arrived at our hotel room, she said, “I’m tired; I’m going to bed.” I acted disappointed, explained what I wanted, and then she said, “I’m not giving you that! I said ‘I do’; I prayed the prayer; I did my part, but I’m not giving you that! I’ve covered that my entire life. I’m not giving you that.” Imagine how I would feel. Does Jesus ever feel that?

He’s given you His body, broken and blood, shed. Do you feel like you need to pay? Or do you feel like you’ve already paid, are disappointed with what you’ve gotten, and wonder, “What is it that He wants?”

Imagine if I had left $300 on the pillow. Now imagine if I had left one long-stem, red rose. That would be different, wouldn’t it? And just think: With $300, you could buy 150 red roses.

Do you ever wonder, “God, what is it that you want? I went down front. I said the prayer, but this isn’t working. What do you want?”

In Luke 7:36 “One of the Pharisees asked him (Jesus) to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and reclined at table. And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment.”

To himself, Simon the Pharisee, comments, “If this man were a prophet, he would know what sort of woman is touching (a euphemism) him, for she is a sinner.”

Jesus then tells Simon a little story about a moneylender and two debtors, one who owed 500 denarii and one who owed 50. The moneylender forgave them both. And Jesus asks Simon, “Which of them will love him more?” Simon answers, “The one forgiven more.”

Jesus points out that Simon had given him no greeting, no water, no oil — his supposedly honored guest — but this woman had poured herself out as a fragrant offering.

Apparently, this happened to Jesus quite often. It happened on at least three different occasions and in all four Gospels. And in spite of its inappropriate nature in the culture in that day, Jesus seems to thoroughly enjoy it, as if, at last, He gets exactly what He wants: not a harlot but a bride . . . with no shame.

Is shame good or bad? What is shame?

The Adam and his wife were both naked and not “ashamed” until they ate the fruit from the tree, “knew that they were naked,” and covered themselves. God’s very first commandment, given before the fall, was to be fruitful and multiply. That’s hard to do if covered in fig leaves. They covered the spot where they each knew a part of themselves was missing. They covered the spot where two become one, which must be analogous to the spot where one had become two. And God did that; He made Adam, male and female. He did that when it became apparent that Adam could not find his Helper — who was with him. God is our Helper, our “Ezer,” our Husband.

Before the fall, before He made Adam male and female, God said, “It is not good that the Adam should be alone.” Adam was alone in the presence of Love; I think we call that “sin.”

“Sin was in the world before the law (knowledge of Good and evil) came, but sin is not counted where there is no law…” writes Paul. “I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive, and I died… whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.”

I think Paul is talking about each and all of us. We were all alive, before we learned to judge ourselves and trap ourselves in this earthen vessel, this alabaster flask. And Adam was missing something before the fall (sin, “hamartia,” means something like “missing part, ‘martos.'”). Adam lacked Faith in Love (God is Love).

Jesus says to Simon, “Therefore (for this reason), I tell you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven — for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little loves little.”

Those who love much, have been forgiven much . . . and so, they have, obviously, sinned much.
Does Simon need to sin . . . more?

Sin is imprisoning yourself alone in outer darkness; you can’t plan to repent by being unrepentant. And it seems pretty clear that Simon has already sinned a-plenty. Simon the Pharisee is using “knowledge of Love” to not love Love; Simon is trying to use love to create his own life rather than sacrificing his own life to the One who is Love; Simon is treating Jesus like a harlot; Simon has spent a lifetime trying to pay for Love. He has very little faith in Love — relentless Love: Grace.

Take a second look at the tree in the middle of the Garden. Is that not a sin in which we have all participated? Ever since you first began to judge yourself, have you not been trying to pay for Love?

Did God ever have any illusions that you could pay? No, of course not. But He has loved you from the foundation of the world. And so, we each think we owe, until we come to know that we cannot pay but have always been forgiven on a tree in the middle of a garden on the Holy Mountain. Even this knowledge is a gift of Grace; we call it “Faith.”

We don’t need a “Sin Much Program,” for we’ve already sinned a plenty. God already has a “Love Much Program.” He consigned all to disobedience that He may have mercy on all, that all might have faith in His mercy: Himself.
So, all our church programs should be a “Confess Much Program.” In a million ways, we must each confess, “I’ve sinned much,” and we must each hear, “In the name of Jesus, you are forgiven.”

Confess, “Father, I’m constantly trying to exalt myself,” and something in you just humbled yourself.
Confess, “Jesus, I’m constantly trying to justify myself,” and something in you is justified.
Confess, “Spirit of God, I can’t save myself,” and your faith just saved you.

Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith (literally ‘the faith of you’) has saved you.”

My wife gave birth and said, “Look at my baby,” but she knew she didn’t make that baby. She knew that this part of her that had been missing, this part that she had known as an empty longing, now went by a new name: Jonathan, then Elizabeth, then Rebekah, and Coleman.

Isaiah 54, “Sing, O barren one who did not bear… fear not, for you will not be ashamed… For your Maker is your Husband.”

Simon is hiding from his own shame; he’s miserable. This woman is surrendering her shame; she’s not miserable, no longer alone, and entirely unashamed. “Old things have passed away; behold all things have become new.”

Saved by Grace, we give birth to Faith, and Faith grows into an entire kingdom. “The wages of sin is death.” But there’s a gift in your sin. He is called “The Resurrection and the Life.”

So, Mary (Both Mary of Magdala and Mary His Mother — in Truth, there is only one) …Mary, “You will find him wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in your manger.” He is The Faithful One.

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