Sermon Notes — September 14, 2025
“Jesus at the Table”
September 14, 2025
Luke 7:36-50
Rev. Dr. Mary Beth Bernheisel
What is the difference between etiquette and hospitality?
I thought about that question a lot this week in response to this morning’s scripture. And, as so often happens, I ended up going down a rabbit hole. I will spare you the whole convoluted journey, except to say that it started with Julia Sugarbaker, Dixie Carter’s character on the show Designing Women – the best show ever – and ended with a blog post by a woman named Vanessa Hunt.
In her blog post Hunt reflects on the same question – What’s the difference between etiquette and hospitality – except that her reflection was prompted by Dixie Carter. Dixie Carter once said that
The purpose of etiquette is to make people feel comfortable
Hunt says
I’ve been thinking a lot about how this definition of etiquette is very similar to the definition of hospitality.
And while I think that hospitality is also about making others feel comfortable, I believe that it goes far beyond just that. I think that hospitality is an opportunity to show love. And to show we care.
Hunt concludes her blog post with a quote from Alexander Strauch
Hospitality…is a concrete, down-to-earth test of our fervent love for God and His people. Love can be an abstract, indistinct idea; hospitality is specific and tangible. Hospitality is love in action. Hospitality is the flesh and muscle on the bones of love. Through caring acts of hospitality, the reality of our love is tested.
What is the difference between etiquette and hospitality?
Let’s let the Pharisee and the unnamed woman from today’s scripture show us.
Will you pray with me and for me?
If you read what I wrote in this week’s newsletter then what I’m about to say won’t be a surprise. But on the off chance that you didn’t read it, I’ll summarize. My favorite part about Luke’s gospel is that Luke mentions food and eating and sitting down to a meal – anything that has to do with eating – Luke mentions it more than the other three gospel writers combined.
And every time Luke talks about food or meals or banquets or dinner tables in his gospel, he is very purposefully and carefully teaching us about the Kingdom of God. What happens around the table in Luke is a picture of the world as God wants it to be. Every time. So when you’re reading Luke and there’s a meal, you’re about to learn about the world that God wants.
Table = Kingdom.
And today’s text is no different.
It begins at a table. A Pharisee, one of the Jewish religious leaders, has invited Jesus to his home for a meal. The Pharisee’s name is Simon. Now, Jesus has two disciples who are also named Simon. Simon the Zealot, and Simon whose name will be changed to Peter. This Simon is not either of those. Completely different Simon.
A few things.
First, the gospels include lots of stories of Jewish religious leaders criticizing Jesus. Sometimes because Jesus hangs out with the wrong people and sometimes because they didn’t agree with the way he and his disciples observed the Sabbath. Lots of stories of the Jewish religious leaders criticizing Jesus. But this story is a little different. The way Luke tells the story, there’s nothing to make us believe that this Pharisee’s invitation was anything but sincere. He wasn’t trying to trick Jesus. He wasn’t trying to make Jesus feel uncomfortable. He truly wanted to have a meal with Jesus to get to know him better.
Second, scholars assume that the event depicted in this story was a symposium. The symposium was a party – food, wine, entertainment – but the primary focus of the symposium was to have philosophical conversations. So Jesus was not the only guest – lots of folks were there–and the point was to talk about the deep philosophical stuff of life.
Here’s a picture that I think is helpful for us as we think about this story. This is what Jesus and his companions might have looked like at the table.
I’m not sure what happens when the arm you’re leaning on gets tired – maybe they switch sides halfway through. But you can see where their feet are – kind of sticking out behind them. They would have taken off their shoes when they entered the home because the shoes would have been dusty from the road and they didn’t want to track street grime into the house.
Luke tells us that as they’re eating and engaging in deep conversation, a woman in the city enters the home of this particular leader carrying an alabaster jar full of expensive perfume. She stands behind Jesus and she weeps – the word is actually better translated as “sobs” my personal translation is “ugly cries” – she is standing behind him, sobbing, bathing his feet with her tears and then wiping them with her hair.
Her actions have no precedent. This was not something that people did. No one around that table had ever experienced anything like this before. She enters a space where she knows she is not welcome, a space where she knows people will whisper about her and may even say hateful things out loud to her. She loosens her hair and lets it fall down around her shoulders – a proper woman in polite society would never act so shamefully – and she not only washes Jesus’s feet, but she kisses them.
This is scandalous. Just when the folks around the table start to think that maybe Jesus is an OK guy, they see exactly the kind of people that he attracts.
And I love this part. Simon starts thinking things – he starts mentally judging Jesus for letting this woman near him – for letting her touch him. Simon thinks,
TERRY: “I thought this man was a prophet but clearly he isn’t, because if he was he would know what kind of person this woman is and he wouldn’t let her near him.”
And Jesus responds. Notice that Simon hasn’t said anything out loud. Jesus responds to what Simon is thinking. It makes me wonder if Simon was one of those people who speaks volumes with their face. But Jesus doesn’t respond directly to Simon’s thoughts. Instead, he asks Simon a philosophical question – that’s why they’re gathered in his home in the first place, right?
Suppose a creditor – someone who loans money to other people – has two debtors – people who owe him money. And one of the debtors owes ten times the amount of money that the other debtor owes. And suppose that the creditor wakes up one day and decides to release them both of their debt – he decides to wipe the slate clean for both of them. Now neither of the debtors owes him anything – they’re free and clear.
And Jesus asks Simon,
Which one of the debtors will love the creditor more?
And Simon replies,
TERRY: I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.
Jesus commends him for his response and then he turns toward the woman, who we assume has finished washing his feet and has moved on to pouring her expensive perfume on them.
And Jesus draws a clear division between etiquette and hospitality.
But first he turns toward the woman. He looks at her. He sees her. Everyone else around the table is looking in any direction other than her. But Jesus looks at her.
And when he does he sees everything – he sees who she is and the burden that she carries. He sees the weight of her shame and the depth of her gratitude. And then he asks Simon if Simon sees her, because he wants Simon to see her, too; he wants Simon to recognize her humanity, to know her worth as a child of God. Until now Simon has written her off as “that kind of woman,” but Jesus asks him to see her.
And this is what Jesus says to Simon while Jesus is looking at the woman.
He says, When I came to your house, Simon, you didn’t give me water to rinse the dirt off of my feet. You didn’t greet me with a kiss – which sounds kind of weird, but it was the custom in the ancient near east to greet a guest with a kiss as a sign of recognition – I see you – and as a sign of respect. And, Jesus continues, you didn’t anoint my head with oil, a way of offering refreshment to a guest.
But this woman, Jesus says – he’s still looking at her – still seeing her – and talking to Simon – this woman washed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair; she kissed my feet; and she poured her perfume on my feet, too.
And this is why, Jesus says. Because she knows just how much it means to be forgiven and welcomed into my family – to have a place at my table.
We have had some profoundly disturbing collective experiences this week that I do not need to name aloud, out of respect for people who don’t need to hear those experiences named aloud. And friends, I want to suggest this morning that hospitality – true, Christ-like hospitality – offers us a thread of hope in the midst of all of this brokenness. There are two people in this story who embody such hospitality – Jesus, of course. But also the unnamed woman. The hospitality that she showed to Jesus was love in action.
Was her hospitality practical or reasonable or logical?
Of course not. But true, Christ-like hospitality is rarely practical or reasonable or logical. On the Welcome Desk in the narthex are Bethlehem mugs filled with information and candy, waiting to be given to visitors. Is it practical or reasonable or logical to have gifts waiting for people who haven’t even shown up yet? Not really. And yet they’re there because we want to be ready to tell people that we are glad they’re here, we see them, and that we want to know them better. Glenn Acree has been visiting folks who have moved into the area and giving them these mugs as well. Is there anything practical or reasonable or logical about tromping around in the August heat, knocking on doors of strangers, giving them a gift, and inviting them to our church? No, but what if one person out of however many doors Glenn knocked on needed to know that there was a place for them? One person for whom an impractical, illogical move made a difference?
True, Christ-like hospitality is rarely practical or reasonable or logical.
Jesus showed hospitality, too. He did not wash the woman’s feet or anoint her with expensive perfume, but what he did was look at her. When everyone else in the room looked away, he looked at her. He saw her.
I had the best day last Friday. Miss Porter, you all know her as Ashleigh, invited me to her class for Reading in the Schools Day. Little did she know that reading to kids is just about my favorite thing ever. And Miss Porter not only let me read to her class, but she let me hang out, too. And her precious third-graders asked me questions and I asked them questions and it was such a lovely time. But let me tell you what I saw. I saw a classroom of kids that Miss Porter has only known for a month. But has seen every one of them, and she continues to see each of them as a precious child of God. She knows about their lives, about their families, about the complexities of their situations, she knows what’s important to them and what makes them tick. She sees them and she knows them, and celebrates each one of them, and that is so powerful. That is true, Christ-like hospitality that has the power to shape a child’s life in the most beautiful way.
What would happen if everyone in the world was seen and knew that there was a place at the table for them?
Last Thursday, thanks to the Burys and the Kings, Jay and I attended the Celebration of Hope for Restore ministries. It was a wonderful evening, and one of the highlights was hearing from Restore directors around the world, from as far away as Kenya, Tanzania, Ukraine, and Belize, and all of them talked about the transformational power of the Restore small group ministry. And part of what I learned that night about Restore small groups is their emphasis on intentionally seeing each other and listening to each other. Being seen and being valued by another person as a child of God made in God’s image has the power to transform lives.
Part of our work as followers of Jesus is to make sure that the people around us know that there is a place at Christ’s table – that there is a place in Christ’s family – for them. There are just too many stories about people claiming to speak on Christ’s behalf and then turning around and preaching a gospel of exclusion – you can sit here at Christ’s table if – if you meet my standards, if you believe the same things I do, if you pass my test – but that’s not good news.
Good news is that there is a place for everyone at Christ’s table – in Christ’s family.
The other part of our work as followers of Jesus is realizing that when we sit around Christ’s table together, we are all transformed – we all become more like Jesus. I can sit at the table like Simon the Pharisee and look at the other people around the table with disdain because I have thoughts about their particular transgressions, opinions, or choices – but the truth is that I need to be transformed by the love and grace and compassion of Jesus just as much as anyone else at the table. And you need to be transformed by the love and grace and compassion of Jesus just as much as anyone else.
Let me put it another way: This morning the Fenton Warren class began studying a book called Everybody Always. It’s by an amazing man named Bob Goff. The subtitle of Everybody Always
Becoming Love in a World Full of Setbacks and Difficult People
And knowing what I know about Bob Goff – I apologize for the spoiler – he’s going to say that part of dealing with difficult people is realizing that sometimes you’re someone else’s difficult person.
We all need to be transformed by the grace and love and compassion of Jesus.
The table is a place of humility – I am a sinner who needs to be forgiven and changed just as much as anyone – and the table is a place of hospitality – I see you…pull up a chair next to me.
In the newsletter you’ll receive on Friday, you’ll see a pastoral letter from our Bishop, David Graves, and I hope that you will take the time to read it and reflect on it. And as we move out of this place into a broken and often disappointing and confusing world, I invite you to sit with these questions today and throughout the week.
· What are the assumptions you carry about other people that keep you from showing hospitality – love in action – to them?
· Who is God calling you to share a meal with this week?
Now that’s love in action. Share a meal with someone. Sit at the table with them. Invite the Holy Spirit to join you, and allow the love and compassion of Jesus to transform you.
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Loving God, how lavishly you pour out
the costly gift of your grace upon us.
Fill our homes and our lives
with the fragrance of your love,
so that we may show your glory
and serve your people;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.