Dinner Parties
Dinner parties can be unpredictable. Whether the gathering is an eclectic group of people who may not know each other or a smaller, more intimate gathering of friends and acquaintances, dinner parties can sometimes get messy. Eventually, someone says or does something inappropriate, and eyes begin to roll; there’s a not-so-subtle kick under the table or a quick change of subject. One too many glasses of wine can lead to some eye-popping personal honesty or even some pathetic confessions. Too much information or “TMI” moments can leave you gasping for breath. You know what I’m talking about. We have all been there before. Case in point – a Gospel story of a women with an alabaster jar
Simon, a prominent Pharisee and public figure in the city asked Jesus, a controversial spiritual leader, to attend his dinner party. It was an unlikely and suspicious invitation, given their reputations. At first, everything seems cordial, that is, until the neighborhood hooker with her alabaster jar of oil decides to push her way through the guests to the head of the table next to Jesus. Suddenly, you can feel eyes rolling, a not-so-subtle kick under the table, and perhaps a hurried change of subject, hoping she might disappear. It was a dinner party about to go terribly wrong. Or was it?
The woman with the alabaster jar knows who she is. Jesus knows who she is. Every one of the guests knows who she is. And she knows that everyone knows who and what she is. It was the mother of all “TMI” moments. “Too Much Information” was written all over her. She cannot hide her sin any more than she can hide her excruciating pain. Wretched, wounded, and broken, she asks for forgiveness with the only gifts she knows, the tools of her trade: her alabaster jar of scented oil, her lips providing tender kisses, the intimacy of her unveiled and exposed hair, and her tears of anguish. Her gift was her sin, and her sin was her gift, and she knew that only Jesus would understand it. Only Jesus’ caress could give her the forgiveness and freedom to be different, the mercy that would make her whole again. In a breathtaking moment of intimacy, she laid bare all she was and all she had.
Pope Francis tells us that our very own,
“recognition of sins, our misery, the recognition of what we are and what we are capable of doing or have done is the door that opens to the caress of Jesus, to the forgiveness of Jesus… because the privileged place for the encounter with Christ is our sins.”
The woman believed that if she accepted and revealed her sin in the presence of Jesus, she would come to know Christ’s forgiveness, mercy, and freedom. Freedom to no longer be bound and shackled by the past, the failings, the feelings, the stares, the thoughts, the reputation, the voices, the judgments. The freedom that Christ offers in forgiveness is not just a chance to make a different or better choice but to be different, to live differently, and to be reborn into new life.
It can be hard to break open our precious alabaster jars of scented oil that we use to cover and camouflage our sins because all we know and have to offer is wrapped up in who we think we are. Asking for forgiveness is always messy. Receiving mercy is life-changing because it exposes us to the blinding reality of who we really are in Christ. In that forgiveness and freedom, we recognize that our gift is our sin, and our sin is our gift. All any of us really have to offer to God is ourselves, unscented, exposed, raw, and unprotected. It is the only “TMI” moment that’s an acceptable gift to lay at the feet of Jesus. It’s the only way we come to know God’s forgiveness, mercy, and freedom.
Visitor Reflections