I am haunted by the memory of a woman. We were not introduced and I never
saw her face, but I stood at the place where she died. The police think she
might have been a prostitute and a drug addict. They found her body in the tall
grass next to the Metro stop in Hyde Park in
Her death wasn't news, at least not for long because nobody cared. Nobody even
knew her name. It was my turn to lead the prayer one day, and I stood in that
place where someone or maybe several people tossed aside a human life like you
might throw a coke can on the side of the road, and I didn't really know what
to say. I said, "We are here because violence breaks God's heart. We are
here because a life was taken from us we did not even know. Her name will not
be remembered but she was somebody's daughter, she was somebody's friend. We do
not remember her name, but God remembers her name. God knows her. And God will
not forget this terrible violence against her. Her blood cries out from the
ground. And God will give her justice."
I wish I knew the rest of the story. I wish I could tell you that they found
her killer and that the killer is in prison. I wish I knew that they identified
her and notified her family so they could at least know what happened to her. I
wish that I knew her name. But I do believe …deep in my heart I have to believe … that in this
life or the next that woman will have justice because God will see to it. And
I'll tell you why I believe this.
Long ago in a country far away there was a King named Ahab. Ahab had a powerful
army. He ruled over ten tribes and many cities. He was the second King of one of
the most dominant dynasties
One day Jezebel discovered Ahab sulking in his bed at the palace in Jezreel. The servants told her that he didn't touch his
lunch and refused dinner after that.
That would be an unmistakable sign that things weren’t right with
John Biggs. If I drop dead anytime soon
please promise me that you will flood John with meals…I know that he
loves me, but I also know that his grief at my loss would never overcome his
appetite. But I digress.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked. "I'm so depressed!"
Ahab whined. "Our next door neighbor Naboth
won't sell me his vineyard beneath our south balcony. I want to plant a row of
beans and some tomatoes, but I don't want to drive all the way out of town to
do it. So I offered him a bigger piece of land in the valley, but he wouldn't
take it. He said something about the land being in his family ever since God
gave it to them to tend, and he couldn't sell it because God's law says not to.
But I want that vineyard. I don't know why he won't let me have it. I don't
think he likes me very much." Ahab buried his head in
his pillow and cried big ole’ crocodile tears.
Jezebel was disgusted. "Is there a King in
And how does she do it? Jezebel sets Naboth up. A town
picnic with good ole Naboth as guest of honor …
a little drinking and carousing … a sudden accusation … the
emotions of the crowd … and Naboth is stoned to
death by an angry mob. In typical political irony, Naboth
was accused of cursing God and the King by the very rulers who ignored God's
laws and brought a curse upon themselves.
And that was that. Naboth was gone. His land was
vacant. The King got the vineyard. End of story. Everybody knows how it works.
The strong devour the weak. The mighty destroy the meek. The violent bear it
all away. The rich abuse the poor. And the rules be
damned, because the people with the money … the people with the power
… the people with the clout make the rules.
Well, that's the way of this world, isn't it? Ahab wanted Naboth's
field. Naboth resisted. Jezebel had Naboth killed. And that was that. Might made
right…except.
Jezebel told Ahab, "Honey, Naboth's a goner. Go
get your vineyard." "Oh, goody!" Ahab
cried, and like a little boy in a candy store, ram downstairs and out the back
door to plan his vegetable garden. But there stood Elijah, God's own
mouthpiece, like Clint Eastwood squinting in the sun. Ahab had dealt with this
guy before. He knew Elijah was about to rain on his parade. Ahab stopped in his
tracks and snarled, "Have you found me, O my enemy?" But Elijah
wasn't Ahab's enemy. God was. As 1 Peter says, "God opposes the proud,
but gives grace to the humble" (1 Peter 5:5). Elijah simply told Ahab
what God told him to say. "I found you because you sold yourself to do
what is evil in the sight of the Lord. I will bring disaster on you. In the
place where the dogs licked Naboth's blood, dog's will lick up yours." And that's what happened,
because might does not make right. Wealth and power and status do not excuse injustice.
The powers of this world - whether they be government or business or religion -
do not have the last say. God does.
Fast forward a few centuries to the house of a Pharisee who invited Jesus to
dinner with his Pharisee friends, and here we meet another
woman who haunts my imagination. She is a woman of ill repute who slipped in
unnoticed because the powerful often do not even see the weak. But she made a
scene. She took a precious ointment in an alabaster jar and she wet Jesus’
feet with her tears. She dried them with
her hair and kissed his feet and rubbed them with the ointment. The Pharisees
are embarrassed and appalled. What kind of prophet is this who lets this woman
give him such attention … especially this woman whom God's law says
should be stoned? They don't kill her, at least not physically. But they judge
her … they reject her … they speak of her to Jesus as if she were not there … they disregard her
entirely … and this is a form
of violence by the strong against the weak.
Jesus tells the parable of the two debtors with the obvious point that the one
who has been forgiven a great debt is commensurately more grateful than the one
who has been forgiven little. Is Jesus saying that the Pharisee's sins are
slight … that they are really a pretty decent bunch of guys … or
that this woman is more aware of how much she needs God's forgiveness than
these proud religious men? Jesus is moved by her actions. The Pharisees want to
study Jesus. They want to discuss and debate with him, about him. But she loves
Jesus …she sacrifices for him … she offers the expensive ointment
for his feet … and she endures humiliation by the Pharisees to do the
right thing for Jesus. Which one honors Jesus most? Which one leads to
salvation? And which one truly welcomes Jesus? If this story says anything, it
suggests that we don't welcome Jesus if we aren't willing to welcome this woman
who loves him. And it makes me wonder. Do we welcome everyone who comes to our
table to love Jesus, or do we ignore some and insult others whose clothes don't
look right … who are poor or dirty or low? Do we study Jesus or do we
love him by loving those people Jesus loves?
And what I notice in this story again is the flow of power. The Pharisees have
power where the woman is powerless … but where is God's attention? With the powerless. Jesus notices this woman. She is as low
and desperate as a person can get, but she gives Jesus what is precious. The
Pharisees, who strive so much to be near to God are the farthest away because
they cannot see their own need and they have too much to lose by becoming
followers of the Christ. This woman, it turns out, is also unnamed, even though
she was so honored by Jesus. But a patriarchal church or a forgetful author,
left out her identity. I believe Jesus remembers her name to this day, a woman
who understood how to love because she had been raised up from so low a
condition.
It turns out that the woman with the precious ointment did have some power. It
is what Myron Madden calls "the power to bless." She had the power to
love Jesus, to make Jesus feel loved. She had the power of love. She had the
power to please God. And do we not all have this power? But do we exercise it?
We all have some measure of power: economic power, the power of our social
status or position, relational power, the power to bless or to withhold our
blessing. We are all capable of doing great deeds or terrible damage to others
with our power. The Bible has a lot to say about the use of power. It
recognizes legitimate relationships of responsibility, accountability, and
order. It says we should submit to civil authority, to obey our parents and
elders, and to treat all the people around us with deference (1 Peter 5:5). But
mainly, it emphasizes service as the purpose of power. So Jesus said: "You
know that among the Gentiles… those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them … and their great ones are
tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become
great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you
must be slave of all" (Mark 10:42-45). Under Christ's authority, we
use what power we have to serve others … to empower them to fulfill their
highest calling before God … and to improve the life of all people. And
whenever power is abused and the powers of this world oppress … whenever
injustice goes unanswered and the mighty presume that's that … end of
story … might makes right … we stand in the stolen
vineyards of our brothers' and sisters' dreams, and say, "Wait a minute.
You have forgotten God. But God hasn't forgotten you. God hasn't forgotten your
victims." The God of the Bible has a passion for justice. The God of the
Bible cares about the powerless, and remembers the plight of the poor and
broken and oppressed.
That's why I remember a woman who was murdered in
May we pray?
O God, forgive us when we ignore the plight of the powerless and advance
ourselves at the expense of others. Forgive us when we either knowingly or
indifferently use our power to damage other people. But teach us to see the
world as you see it. Help us to use what power you give us in ways that will
honor you. Open our eyes to see the people around us who need our help and
care. Let us welcome the weak as well as the strong in your name. And as much
as we study and discuss you, may we love you with our sacrificial actions by
loving those around us in Jesus' name. Amen.
Rev. Mary Anne Biggs, Pastor
Nekoosa United
Nekoosa