“Two Parables”
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 6C)
16 June 2013
Homily
Parish Church of Trinity, Ashland
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 6C)
16 June 2013
Homily
Parish Church of Trinity, Ashland
The
Rev. Dr. Anthony Hutchinson, Rector
God, take away our hearts of stone
and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
One of my priest friends in Hong Kong
tells the story of a former parishioner who was somewhat of an enigma to others
in the parish. Over the years, little by
little, details about the introverted man came out, his hobbies, his career,
etc. But people didn’t even know whether
he was partnered or single, and this on occasion made planning social events
including him awkward. People suspected
that perhaps his reluctance to volunteer any personal details came from the
fact that he was in a relationship that might not meet up to the approval of
some of the more judgmental members of the parish. When finally an appropriate private moment
arose when the question seemed a reasonable request for information for social
planning purposes rather than prying, my friend asked gently, “are you in some
kind of relationship, do you have a partner?”
The quick and embarrassed reply came swiftly, removing all doubt that
here was a simple case of a desire for privacy by a painfully introspected
person: “Oh no—I’m not in a relationship, I’m
married.” As it turned out, the
man’s wife was home bound due to a physical disability, and both were somewhat
ashamed of sharing this with others.
“I’m not in a relationship, I’m married.” This doesn’t say much for the institution of
marriage, does it? Marriage is, after
all, a personal, intimate relationship.
But we often reduce it in our minds to a mere social institution, and our participation in it
as conforming to expected roles rather than nurturing a relationship with another person.
Today’s scripture lessons include two
parables—Nathan’s parable of the precious lamb and Jesus’ parable of the two
debtors. In their own ways, they reveal
a great deal about the difference between relationships and roles, between evaluating
and judging ourselves and others in terms of expectations rather than simply building relationships.
Today’s
reading from 2 Samuel is only the climax of a longer story about King
David: the sorry tale of his adultery
with Bathsheba, the resulting pregnancy and her husband Uriah’s stubborn
refusal to provide a cover story for it, David’s murder of Uriah by arranging
his death in battle, and David taking Bathsheba into the Palace as one of his
wives. Here, the Prophet Nathan comes to
the King with a simple but chilling story of a greedy and over-grasping rich
man with large flocks who murders a poor herdsman to steal his sole, dear lamb
to be served as a meal to a houseguest.
David is enraged at the “pitiless” rich man, says he deserves death, but
orders a serious fine to punish him.
“You are the man” is the reply of Nathan, who then prophecies civil war
and horror for the Davidic House. David,
horrified at Nathan’s unsparing view of what David has done, openly admits his
fault and remorse. Nathan replies that
because David has admitted his fault, he has been forgiven, but says nevertheless
the crime will have consequences—the civil war predicted and the death of
Bathsheba’s son.
I have to say, I hope you were
disturbed by this story. First of all,
Bathsheba is never mentioned by name after the first identification. She is always referred to as “the wife of
Uriah.” Though she might be precious,
she is mere chattel, property, like the lamb in Nathan’s parable. I wish Nathan had condemned David’s actions
against Bathsheba—using the difference in social status and power between them
as a means of forcing himself upon her.
But he only condemns David’s actions as offenses against Uriah and
against God, not so much violation of any relationship as of breaking roles and
expectations: David’s role as King
and the expectations set by the commandments, “You shall not commit
adultery. You shall commit no
murder.” Bathsheba is a mere prop in
this stage piece, as is that poor baby.
This unspoken theme of roles vs.
relationships is expressed in the odd fact that though Nathan says “the Lord
has put away your sin” after David’s confession, punishment remains. This story is part of the Deuteronomistic
History that runs from the Book of Deuteronomy all the way through the end of 2
Kings. In this work, obedience to the
Law is rewarded with Blessing and disobedience is punished by Curses: conformity to role and expectations is
blessed, nonconformity is punished. But
since David is a “man after the Lord’s own heart,” despite his failings, and he
freely admits his guilt to Nathan because of this, the Lord “puts away” David’s
sin as part of the restored relationship between David and his God.
One really important point in this story
is this—there is such a thing as sin, and readily admitting our fault when we
fall into it is key in restoring our relationship with God and those we have
hurt. That is the point of today’s
Psalm—we feel alienated and shriveled up until we confess our guilt. We tend to hide our failings from ourselves,
and sometimes we need a Nathan pointing to us and saying, “You are that
Man!” “You are the pitiless bully in
this story!” It is the need for such interactive self-correction that lies
behind the practice of individual private confession and absolution.
I know it is somewhat faddish to say
that our worship is too penitential, and complain that we have too many
“confessions of sin” in our Sunday Liturgies.
Some suggest that we replace these with more thanksgiving and praise for
a happier, less morbid tone of worship.
But I think that our Prayer Book tradition has this about right. Simply reminding ourselves each time we pray
that we fall short of the mark is a useful spiritual practice, and if we keep
it free from too much drama or tragedy that flatters our egos, such regular
general confession helps us to take our sins to heart, but not ourselves too
seriously.
The story of the sinful woman washing
Jesus’ feet with her tears in today’s Gospel contrasts judgment of role and
expectation with how healthy relationships are made and maintained. The Pharisee host sits back the whole time
thinking, “Hmmph! If Jesus were a
prophet, he would know what kind of woman this lady is, and he would not have
her all over him like this!” Jesus
replies to the unspoken judgment that he does not conform to the role of a prophet,
just as the woman does not conform to the role of a decent person, with the
parable of the two debtors. One is
forgiven a debt 100 times larger than the other, and as a result loves the creditor
who forgives the debt that much more.
Just as Nathan tells David, “You are that bully,” Jesus implies that the
Pharisee is the debtor who loves little because he has been forgiven little. He is a person who prefers to judge and sit
on the sidelines analyzing and criticizing, where the weeping woman is a person
in a full, warm, and life-giving relationship with Jesus, even with all its
messiness.
And at the heart of the two debtors parable
is the idea that it is relationship, not role, that matters. Note that Jesus does NOT sum the story up by saying,
“because she loved me much I have forgiven her much.” He says, “she loves so deeply because she has been forgiven so much.”
Now that may seem at odds with the
usual use we hear made of the Epistle today—salvation by faith in Christ alone,
apart from any acts, or, put less exactly, Christ forgives you because you have faith in him. But this is backwards and not at all what Paul
intends. “Having faith in Christ” here
is not an act by which we conform to the role of a believing Christian, and
thereby merit forgiveness and salvation.
Rather, Paul is saying it is our relationship with Christ that saves us
and that relationship is expressed in faith, trust, and, ultimately, in an
amendment of life and loves. It is
relationship, not role, that counts.
That doesn’t mean that role doesn’t
matter. Attention to conformity to role
and expectations is what allows someone like Nathan to be able to say, “You are
that bully!”
Elsewhere, Paul writes to the saints in
Corinth warning them that he is on his way to sort out troubling stories he has
heard of how they have behaved badly since he last visited, how they have not
maintained their role as good
Christians. He says, “Examine yourselves
to see whether you are living in the
faith. Test yourselves!” Then he adds, bringing the question back to
the ultimate question, the question of relationship, “ Do you not realize that
Jesus Christ is in you, unless, of course, you fail to meet that test! I hope you will find out that we have not
failed!” (2 Cor. 13: 5-7).
Brothers and sisters, it is important
to check on occasion how we’re doing, and how we conform to roles and
expectations. It is important to listen
to prophetic voices in our lives telling us, “You are that bully!” And it is important to confess our
failings. But when all is said and done,
the only thing that matters in the end is how we live in relationship. The judgment implied in criticism and
evaluation of performance, roles, and expectations generally tends to undermine
relationship. It throws up resistance,
alienation, and sometimes hurt. It is
important to nurture shared feelings, values, and perspectives. That is probably why Nathan was well advised
to first tell his parable of the little ewe lamb and get David’s buy-in before
he pointed his finger and said “You are that bully.”
Relationship, not role, is what really
matters here. It is the heart of how we
learn to change.
Whether with each other, with Jesus, or
with God the Father, nurturing and caring for the I and the Thou of
interpersonal relationship is at the heart of finding joy and peace in this
life and in the world to come.
In the name of Christ, Amen.
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