BIBLETELLING
Below is the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. It is followed by Bruce’s notes on the text which aim at a general understanding of the text and some notes on the structures and techniques used by the Biblical storytellers.
When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table1. A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume.2 As she stood behind him3 at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
When the Pharisee who had invited him4 saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”5
Jesus answered him,“ Simon,6 I have something to tell you.”7
“Tell me, teacher,” he said.
“Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”
Simon replied, “I suppose8 the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”
“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.
Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon,9 “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”
Then Jesus said to her,10 “Your sins are forgiven.”
The other guests11 began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”12
Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”13
Luke 7:36-50
THREE STORIES
The following three stories pair well with the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. They are followed by Danny’s sermontelling footnotes which explore the stories’ theological connection to the passage as well as insights into craft and performance. Our advice is to read the story first before digging into the footnotes.
The Guest Speaker
The church I grew up in was known for its famous fried chicken dinners. Whenever we had one, it would be announced on the radio and in the paper and we’d have an extra big crowd that morning. Pastor Simmons especially liked to do them whenever he invited guest speakers.14
One Sunday, when I was eight, we had a guest speaker. I don’t remember his name or where he had come from. I just remember that we were going to have a chicken dinner after church that day and the sanctuary was full.
I also remember that the guest speaker was really nice. During the children’s time he called all of us kids down front and he told us a funny story. Then, at the end of children’s time, this three year old girl, named Emily, got up and crawled into the guest speaker’s lap. She was wearing this plastic necklace made of pink beads. She held them up and said, “I love you, peecher,” Then she put the it around the guest speaker’s neck.
He looked at the little girl, smiled, and said, “Thank you. You are very special and God loves you.”
All the adults in the pews whispered to each other, “Isn’t that so precious?”15
After children’s time came the sermon. I think the guest speaker preached about God’s love and forgiveness. To tell the truth, it was really hard to focus with the smell of fried chicken coming from downstairs.
What I do remember, though, was what happened downstairs. I was sitting at the kids table with a chicken leg, a roll, and a heap of banana pudding. And I noticed the guest speaker was standing at the back of the line. That was odd, now that I think of it. Usually, Pastor Simmons would begin the dinner by inviting the guest speaker to pray for the meal and then insist that the guest speaker and his family go first in the line. He must have forgotten to do that. That’s really not the important part.16 The important part was that right behind the guest speaker in line was Linda Jones.17
Everyone in town knew who Linda Jones was. She lived in a trailer without electricity. She was on the concerning side of skinny, she never wore a bra, and she smelled bad. The older boys used to tease each other that Linda Jones had slept with their fathers. It wasn’t true, but that gives you an idea of her reputation. Looking back, she was probably an addict who was having sex with people for drug money. Linda Jones tended to show up at whichever Church was having a meal that Sunday morning. She had come to our altar and got saved many times just before a chicken dinner. One time, she came to one of our potlucks and the sound system went missing. Pastor Simmons found it at the pawnshop a couple of days later. Many of the women claimed that on other occasions she had stolen money out of their purses. The church had tried to help her many times but she always wound up right back how she started. Pastor Simmons18 said there was only so much you could do for someone who didn’t want to help themselves.
So anyway, Linda Jones was just behind the guest speaker in line. From what I could tell, they talked for a little while and then she abruptly left the room. I remember everyone kind of being relieved. Of course Linda was always welcome at the church but we didn’t always know what to do with her. She was prone to make a scene.
Then I watched as the guest speaker looked around the room for a place to sit. The guest speaker usually sat with Pastor Simmons and his family but by now his table was already full. The reason I remember this is that the guest speaker came all the way and sat at the table next to the kids table. I saw everything that happened next.
See, about ten minutes later, Linda Jones returned carrying a little pink box. She marched right up to the guest speaker and, to everyone’s shock, she pulled out his seat and proceeded to sit in his lap.19
Suddenly the room was quiet. Everyone was embarrassed and uncomfortable. Linda Jones didn’t look around or seem to care that the women were covering their mouths. She sat there in the guest speaker’s lap and opened up her pink box. When she opened it, I could hear the faint tinkling of music. And I could see a tiny ballerina turning in front of a little mirror. When she heard the music, Linda began to cry. It seemed like she. hadn’t heard it in a very long time.
When the song was finished playing, she reached into the box and pulled out a gold necklace. It was beautiful. It had a sapphire locket on the end of it shaped like a heart. Even as a kid, I knew that it was very old and very expensive. That it was probably her most prized possession. Looking back, it might have been the one thing left in that box that she hadn’t pawned for drugs.
Still sitting in his lap, she wrapped her arms around the guest speaker’s neck. She was nearly cheek to cheek with him as she fastened it. Through her tears, she whispered, “I love you, preacher.”20
We all looked at the guest speaker. What would he say?
He looked at her and smiled. He said warmly with tender affection, “Thank you, Linda. You are very special and God loves you.”
Now everyone looked at Pastor Simmons. He was sitting at his usual spot. His face was red and his expression was stern. He was clearly not pleased by this whole display. Could you blame him? Even as a kid, I knew the whole thing was weird and very inappropriate. Pastor Simmons looked like he was about to say something but the guest speaker beat him to it.
“Pastor Simmons, I have a question for you?”
“Go ahead, Brother,” he said.
“Pastor Simmons, Imagine two people owe you money. One of them owes you $500 and the other owes you $50,000. Neither of them is able to pay you back. But because you’re a good Christian, you decide to forgive both of their debts. Which of the two do you think would love you more?”
Pastor Simmons replied. “I suppose it would be the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”
The guest speaker smiled. “Exactly! Look at this exemplary woman! I’m your guest and you didn’t even invite me to sit with you— And here she is sitting in my lap. You didn’t introduce me and ask me to pray for the meal. But here she is telling me that she loves me. You didn’t give me first pick of the fried chicken and here she is giving me her most valuable possession. Pastor Simmons, this is the Gospel truth: her many sins have been forgiven. You can tell by the great love she shows! But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”21
The guest speaker looked at Linda and said, “I forgive you! Go in peace.”
Smiling with tears of Joy, Linda Jones left. And no one in town ever saw her again. I’m not sure what became of her. I hope she turned her life around. But who knows. No one ever saw the guest speaker again either.
Occasionally, I think of them.
Sometimes, as I’m drifting off to sleep, I can still hear the faint tinkling of that pink music box. And I see Linda sitting in the guest speaker’s lap and tenderly putting that locket his neck. And I wonder: Why did she do that? What had he said to her? What did she know that none of us knew? To this day, I still remember the guest speaker’s loving gaze. It haunts me. Who was he? Where was he from? And why was he able to say, “I forgive you?”22
The Stones
Two women came to a village elder for advice.23 One of them considered herself a great sinner. When she was young, she’d cheated on her husband and since then, she’d been racked with guilt over that one unforgivable action. The other woman, was pleased with herself because she’d been good her whole life and couldn’t think of any specific sins she’d committed.
The elder asked both women about their lives. The first tearfully confessed to him about her terrible mistake. She felt her sin was so great that she did not expect forgiveness for it. But the other woman said that she did not know any specific sins she might have committed.
The elder said to the first woman: “Go over the fence and find me the biggest stone you can carry, and bring it back to me.”
To the other woman he said, “You also go, but bring me as many little stones as you can carry in a bag!”
The women went and did what the elder ordered. One brought a large stone, the other one a bag full of small stones. The elder examined the stones and said, “Now do this: carry your stones back and place them each on the exact spot you took them from. Then, when you are finished, come back to me.”24
So the two women left. The first one easily found the place where she had taken the large stone, and she put it back exactly the way it was. The other one, however, couldn’t remember which stones belonged where and after growing frustrated, returned to the elder with the same bag of stones.
The old man said to the first woman, “Your experience with the large stone was just like your experience with your great sin. Just as you knew exactly where your stone had come from, and could return it, so you know exactly what you have done wrong and are able to seek forgiveness.”
“But you,” he said to the second woman, “Because you have convinced yourself that you are good, are unaware of your sins. And so, like this bag of rocks, have accumulated sins which you are unaware of and don’t know how to atone for.”
To both he said, “Whether they are a few big ones or a great many small ones, we all carry the weight of our sins and we all must repent and receive God’s grace.”25
~ Retold from a parable by Leo Tolstoy
Agnes
If you live on the East Coast and travel to Hawaii, you know that there is a time difference that makes three o'clock in the morning feel like nine.26 With that in mind, you will understand that whenever I go out to our fiftieth state I find myself wide awake long before dawn. Not only do I find myself up and ready to go while almost everybody else is still asleep, but I find that I want breakfast when almost everything on the island is still closed-which is why I was wandering up and down the streets of Honolulu at three-thirty in the morning, looking for a place to get something to eat.
Up a side street I found a little place that was still open. I went in, took a seat on one of the stools at the counter, and waited to be served. This was one of those sleazy places that deserves the name "greasy spoon." I mean, I did not even touch the menu. I was afraid that if I opened the thing something gruesome would crawl out.27 But it was the only place I could find. The fat guy behind the counter came over and asked me, "What d'ya want?"28 I told him, "A cup of coffee and a donut."
He poured a cup of coffee, wiped his grimy hand on his smudged apron, then grabbed a donut off the shelf behind him. I'm a realist. I know that in the back room of that restaurant, donuts are probably dropped on the floor and kicked around. But when everything is out front where I could see it, I really would have appreciated it if he had used a pair of tongs and placed the donut on some wax paper.29
As I sat there munching on my donut and sipping my coffee at three-thirty in the morning the door of the diner suddenly swung open, and to my discomfort, in marched eight or nine provocative and boisterous prostitutes. It was a small place and they sat on either side of me. Their talk was loud and crude. I felt completely out of place and was just about to make my getaway when I overheard the woman sitting beside me say, "Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm going to be thirty-nine."30
Her "friend" responded in a nasty tone, "So what do you want from me? A birthday party? What do you want? Ya want me to get you a cake and sing 'Happy Birthday?"
"Come on!" said the woman next to me. "Why do you have to be so mean? I was just telling you, that's all. Why do you have to put me down? I was just telling you it was my birthday. I don't want anything from you. I mean, why should you give me a birthday party? I've never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?"
When I heard that, I made a decision. I sat and waited until the women had left. Then I called over the fat guy31 behind the counter and I asked him, "Do they come in here every night?"
"Yeah!" he answered.
"The one right next to me, does she come here every night?"
"Yeah!" he said. "That's Agnes. Yeah, she comes in here every night. Why d'ya wanna know?" "Because I heard her say that tomorrow is her birthday," I told him. "What do you think about us throwing a birthday party for her-right here-tomorrow night?"
A smile slowly crossed his chubby face and he answered with measured delight. "That's great! I like it! That's a great idea!" Calling to his wife, who did the cooking in the back room, he shouted, "Hey! Come out here! This guy's got a great idea. Tomorrow's Agnes's birthday. This guy wants us to go in with him and throw a birthday party for her-right here-tomorrow night!"
His wife came out of the back room all bright and smiley. She said, "That's wonderful! You know Agnes is one of those people who is really nice and kind, and nobody ever does anything nice and kind for her."
"Look," I told them, "if it's okay with you, I'll get back here tomorrow morning about two-thirty and decorate the place. I'll even get a birthday cake!"
"No way," said Harry (that was his name). "The birthday cake's my thing. I'll make the cake." At two-thirty the next morning I was back at the diner. I had picked up some crepe paper decorations at the store and had made a sign out of big pieces of cardboard that read, "Happy Birthday, Agnes!" I decorated the diner from one end to the other. I had that diner looking good.
The woman who did the cooking must have gotten the word out on the street, because by 3:15 every prostitute in Honolulu was in the place. It was wall-to-wall prostitutes...and me!32
At 3:30 on the dot, the door of the diner swung open and in came Agnes and her friend. I had everybody ready (after all, I was kind of the MC of the affair) and when they came in we all screamed, "Happy Birthday!"
Never have I seen a person so flabbergasted...so stunned... so shaken. Her mouth fell open. Her legs seemed to buckle a bit. Her friend grabbed her arm to steady her. As she was led to one of the stools along the counter we all sang "Happy Birthday" to her. As we came to the end of our singing, "Happy birthday, dear Agnes, Happy birthday to you," her eyes moistened. Then, when the birthday cake with all the candles on it was carried out, she lost it and just openly cried.
Harry gruffly mumbled, "Blow out the candles, Agnes! Come on! Blow out the candles! If you don't blow out the candles, I'm gonna hafta blow out the candles." And, after an endless few seconds, he did. Then he handed her a knife and told her, "Cut the cake, Agnes. Yo, Agnes, we all want some cake."
Agnes looked down at the cake. Then without taking her eyes off it, she slowly and softly said, "Look, Harry, is it all right with you if I... I mean is it okay if I kind of... what I want to ask you is... is it okay if I keep the cake a little while? I mean is it all right if we don't eat it right away?"
Harry shrugged and answered, "Sure! It's okay. If you want to keep the cake, keep the cake. Take it home if you want to." "Can I?" she asked. Then looking at me she said, "I live just down the street a couple of doors. I want to take the cake home and show it to my mother, okay? I'll be right back. Honest!"33
She got off the stool, picked up the cake, and carrying it like it was the Holy Grail, walked slowly toward the door. As we all stood there motionless, she left.
When the door closed there was a stunned silence in the place. Not knowing what else to do, I broke the silence by saying, "What do you say we pray?"
Looking back on it now it seems more than strange for a sociologist to be leading a prayer meeting with a bunch of prostitutes in a diner in Honolulu at three-thirty in the morning. But it just felt like the right thing to do. I prayed for Agnes. I prayed for her salvation. I prayed that her life would be changed and that God would be good to her.
When I finished, Harry leaned over the counter, and said, "Hey! You never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to?"
In one of those moments when just the right words came, I answered, "I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for prostitutes at three-thirty in the morning."
Harry waited a moment, then he answered, "No you don't. There's no church like that. If there was, I'd join it. I'd join a church like that!"34
~ Tony Campolo
SERMONTELLING NOTES:
In some other stories of this sort, we are explicitly told that the host had an agenda of trapping Jesus (see, for example, Luke 6:6-7). No such agenda is described here. However, as the story unfolds, the Pharisee’s motives come into question.
Here is the first hint of a possible trap… or at least a test. How does this woman gain access to Jesus in the Pharisee’s home?
Jesus is “reclining,” probably lying on his side at a low table, propped up on his left elbow to eat with his right hand. His feet will be stretched out behind the person to his right. The woman, not given a seat at the table, will have access to his feet from behind him.
The fact that the scene is observed by “the Pharisee who had invited him” is emphasized. It is a detail not immediately necessary to the plot. This is another indication that Jesus’ host may have staged this encounter.
The Pharisee’s object seems to be to discover if Jesus is a prophet (a test), rather than to catch him out in some chargeable offense (a trap). He speaks to himself, as if coming to personal conclusion, rather than making a public accusation.
We learn the Pharisee’s name, here, well into the story. It is spoken first by Jesus, rather than revealed by the narrator. This is an interesting detail that, quite frankly, I don’t know what to do with. Perhaps it is intended to create a particular level of intimacy.
Jesus seems to be asking Simon’s permission to continue, which Simon grants. He does so by respectfully referring to Jesus in his role as a teacher.
The “I suppose,” feels a little begrudging. Perhaps Simon knows where this is going…
Jesus turns towards the woman. Grammatically (and by cultural custom), Jesus does not speak directly to her, but to Simon. Clearly, though, his words are intended for both of them. He gently corrects Simon while indirectly honoring the questionable guest.
Jesus now breaks with custom and speaks directly to the woman.
Simon is not included among those who call Jesus’ actions into question. Something about this encounter seems to have satisfied his earlier “test.”
This is a frequent question brough up among Jesus’ contemporaries, who think of forgiveness of sins as something that only God can do (though perhaps using the Temple priesthood as a conduit.) (See Luke 5:21, for example). As modern Christians, we often overlook, then, just exactly what Jesus is saying when he tells his disciples to be agents of divine forgiveness (as in Matthew 6:14-15.)
Earlier in the story, Jesus speaks to Simon to be overheard by the woman. Now he speaks to the woman, perhaps also to be overheard by others…
The Guest Speaker
This story is completely fictional. It is a modernization of the lectionary passage as will gradually become obvious. I will trust a congregation who has just had the passage read to them to catch up with me. Your mileage may vary. I don’t do modernizations a lot (the exception being the parables). My usual preference is to keep the story grounded in the reality of its original context. My reasons for modernizing the story here are twofold. First, there are a lot of dynamics in the story that need explaining. In trying to tell the story in its original context, I repeatedly found myself saying, “It would be as if…” and making some modern analogy. It became apparent that I could avoid all the stepping out of the story and explaining it by telling the whole story as a modern day analogy. Second, telling the story this way as an eyewitness account of something that actually happened preserves the shock. My hope is that in telling it this way, the hearer may at first share the attitude of the onlookers and say, “What is this lady doing?”
Our unsuspecting audience will probably agree that this is indeed a very precious exchange between the guest speaker and Emily. Grownups love it when small children do something cute during ‘children’s time.' Of course, we are setting them up for later in the story when a full grown woman does the same thing. Our reaction then will be very different.
This actually is an important detail but I’m trying to sluff it off in my story without drawing too much attention to it. There is a B story going on that will be revealed through these offhand comments in which the guest speaker is not being treated with the customary respect. Later he will call it out.
The woman in the passage is described several times as a sinner. She is not described as a prostitute, a thief, or a drunk. My guess is that she is all these things. She has a reputation that clings to her and everyone in town has given up on her. That is the basis of the description of Linda Jones below. She is not a real person but she kind of is. Most small communities have a Linda.
Luke’s gospel is actually relatively positive in its depiction of Pharisees. He depicts Jesus as eating with Pharisees on multiple occasions. The Pharisees actually warn Jesus when his life is in danger. There is no reason to think that Simon the Pharisee is an adversarial figure to Jesus. He has in fact invited Jesus to dine with him. I’ve tried to paint his counterpart, Pastor Simmons, in an equally ambiguous light. He has invited the guest speaker but he is also scandalized by his behavior. I don’t want him to be a mustache twirling villain. I want him to be a stand in for us polite Christians.
I was trying to figure out what the analogue would be to the inappropriate intimacy that scandalized Simon and his fellow dinner guests. The sight of the sinful woman letting down her hair and touching Jesus’ feet with it and then kissing them was both appropriate and wildly inappropriate. It was both innocent and sexually charged. The image of a grown woman sitting in a man’s lap seemed like a good match.
Linda is reenacting what she saw the little girl do at children’s time. She is showing a simple childlike faith. She wants to show the guest speaker (Jesus) how much he means to her so she gives him something valuable. This is exactly how I see the sinful woman’s actions.
In this section I hew very close to Jesus’ words so that it is clear that this is not a coincidence. I am, in fact, retelling the passage.
This is the question the amazed dinner guests ask. When we read the Gospels we just assume everyone is supposed to know who Jesus is. But for some people, he’s this mysterious figure who blows in and out of their lives and makes them wonder, “Who is this?”
The Stones
This is my retelling of a story by Leo Tolstoy. I’ve not reimagined it or put some great spin on it (as if I could improve on Tolstoy). I’ve mainly just retold it in more natural everyday English.
This story shares some DNA with a famous story about Rabbi Hillel. According to the story, a disciple asks him why slander (thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor) was a sin on par with murder and stealing in the Ten Commandments.
Rabbi Hillel gave the student a sack of feathers and commanded him to place a feather in front of each door in the village and then he would answer the student’s question in the morning. When the student returned in the morning, Rabbi Hillel told him to go retrieve the feathers he had set the day before. After the student protested that it would be impossible because the feathers had all blown away, Rabbi Hillel said, “So it is with our words. Once they are spoken we can never get them back. They are scattered to the wind. This is why slander is so serious a sin.”
Anyway, there’s a free story for your file!
This is story is a classic example of a contrast parable. A contrast parable is formed by showing two polar opposite examples so that the hearer can judge which is better. The contrast parable is one of Jesus’ go-to forms. Think of the wise and foolish builder, the pharisee and the tax collector, or the two sons. This is an easy parable form to adapt when you want to show contrasts in your own teaching.
The parable Jesus tells Simon the Pharisee in this week’s passage is also a contrast parable:
“Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”
Luke 7:42-42
Jesus’ point is very similar to the one the elder makes in The Stones. He draws Simon’s attention to the fact that he too stands in need of forgiveness. His debt is much smaller than the sinful woman’s but it is no less real. Jesus points out that the sinful woman is at an advantage in a way because she has recognized her sin and has responded appropriately to God’s grace. Whereas Simon has not. Simon is like the Second Lady in the parable. Because his sins are small, he does not treat them with seriousness and does not understand the gift he has been offered.
I could imagine a sermon built on this contrast between those who have been forgiven much and those who have been forgiven little, using a boulder and a bag of stones as a central image.
Agnes
When I began this project, my plan was to try and provide stories from a variety of different sources. For that reason, I’m a little embarrassed at the amount of Tony Campolo stories I’ve wound up sharing. So much so, that I almost didn’t include this one. But the story of Agnes was one of his most beloved stories and it fits perfectly here. It is the story of a preacher’s interaction with a prostitute and a vision of what Church might be like if we followed the example of Christ. It is written in his oral style. But for the full effect, I recommend you watch this video of him telling it! The rest of my notes will be comments on Campolo’s storytelling techniques that I think we can learn from.
I am willing to bet that you, as a hearer, have formed a full mental image of this place. You have a vivid idea of exactly what it looks like. The thing is, Campolo hasn’t provided a single description other than it’s a greasy spoon and he’s afraid to touch the menu. Those are the only cues your imagination needs. A lot of times we think vivid storytelling has to do with providing a thousand details. That actually creates boredom or exhaustion in the hearer. Great storytellers find the one or two details that evoke the whole. They trust their hearer’s experience and imagination to supply the rest.
I am not a large Italian man with a New York accent. I would never be able to tell this story like Tony tells it. When I tell it, it is in the third person and I don’t try to do the ‘wise guy’ voices.
This funny bit about the donut is serving several purposes. First, it’s continuing to give us the atmosphere of this place while furthering the characterization of the guy behind the counter, which will be important later. It’s also, giving us a sense that some time has passed before the door opens.
Campolo does not do what a lot of storytellers do when they are reporting something that actually happened. Which is, tell every single thing everybody said. There is a room full of prostitutes who have probably talked about a whole range of things that led up to this exchange about Agnes’ birthday. In real life, you can imagine another one of the women would have chimed in and said, “O really it’s your birthday? Happy birthday!” Campolo trims all the fat and tells us exactly what we need to know. He also knows intuitively that in a story you can only have two people talking at a time or it gets confusing so he edits all the other voices out.
Tony Campolo was a different kind of preacher in a different time. I probably wouldn’t repeatedly refer to Harry as ‘the fat guy.’ Campolo is also comfortable using the word ‘whore’ for shock value. I’ve changed the few times he does it in this story to ‘prostitute.’ Not because I am scandalized by the language but because the word is demeaning. Depending on your context, you might even prefer ‘sex worker.’
This line gets a big laugh when Campolo tells it.
For me, this is the surprise moment of the story. We expect Agnes to be tearful and thankful that they are throwing a party for her. But the fact that she has never had a birthday cake and she doesn’t want to eat it because it is so precious to her. That is a surprise. In many ways, the cake is the reversal of the alabaster jar of perfume. It is the gift given to the sinful woman that is not all that expensive. But it too is a symbol of grace.
The challenge in these words hardly needs to be spelled out. We who walk in the way of Jesus are to be vessels of his grace and forgiveness. When we show kindness to the least, the lost, and the lonely, Jesus receives it as a gift of sweet perfume.