The Price Of Admission

How many of you watched the memorial celebrations for President Reagan a few years ago? I was really impressed by a lot of things... the number of people who came, the quality of the speeches, the beauty of the pageantry. But of all the segments, the best, to my mind, was the private interment ceremony near his home in California. It was such a powerful statement of Reagan’s deep faith. And it was very Presbyterian, because even with all the memories of Reagan both as a man and as a world leader, the emphasis throughout was on the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

But the reason I’m bringing this up right now is because of an anecdote told by his close friend and advisor Michael Deaver which struck me very profoundly. It’s a story from the time President Reagan was shot by John Hinckley - you remember, the mentally ill young man who wanted to impress Jody Foster? At any rate, Mr. Deaver reported that when he visited Reagan shortly after he came out of surgery, Reagan said something to the effect that he couldn’t expect to be forgiven unless he could manage not to hate the man who had shot him. And so President Reagan told him that he had begun to pray for John Hinckley’s soul.

Wow. One expects that from the Pope. After all, it's his job, isn’t it. And though it’s admirable, it wasn’t really particularly surprising that Pope John Paul did exactly that - forgave - when the attempt on his life by Turkish gunman Mehmet Ali Agca failed. Interestingly enough, that assassination attempt took place just two months after President Reagan was shot.

But Reagan’s forgiveness wasn’t publicized. I suspect that he would have been terminally embarrassed if it had been, and of course since Deaver was his friend, and it was a private conversation, it was proper for him to wait to tell the story to the world. But the reason Reagan would have been embarrassed was that he didn’t do it for the publicity. He did it out of genuine concern and real humility. Deaver told another story of that same time, when Reagan was in the hospital and a vase of flowers had gotten knocked over and spilled water on the floor. He got out of the bed in his jammies and was wiping up the water himself when Deaver entered the room, and Reagan explained somewhat sheepishly that he didn’t want to get the nurses in trouble.

Now, in case you think I’m the political equivalent of a teenager swooning at a rock-star concert, let me say that although I admired Reagan, I’ve never been a particular fan... until I hear those stories. And I couldn’t help but contrast his behavior with that of Simon the Pharisee in the Scripture passage we’ve just heard.

One the one hand we see the most powerful man in the world on his knees, just to spare an ordinary young woman what would surely be only a minor rebuke, if anything. On the other hand, there is a minor local bigwig making a fuss because his dinner party is being disrupted by someone he wouldn’t ordinarily have let in his house.

In fact, all of the Scripture passages we’ve looked at today show us examples of how people in power behave. Queen Jezebel thinks she can get away with anything - including theft and murder - because of her position. Simon the Pharisee just looks down his nose at someone who doesn’t live up to his standards of behavior. But Paul the Apostle, who has been planting churches like crazy and has every reason to be proud of his heritage and his accomplishments, says of himself, “it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me.” [Gal 2:20] And later on in his letter to the Philippians, Paul says “If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more. Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.” [Phil 3:4,7]

Jezebel the Queen and Simon the Pharisee compared themselves to the people around them - and were certain of their superiority. But Paul and the woman in today’s story compared themselves to Jesus Christ, and recognized his superiority.

What does it take, do you think, to get the kind of perspective that sees oneself in the light of Christ instead of the light of the world? Does it take being knocked of your high horse, like Paul on the road to Damascus? What did it take you, to know yourself as a sinner in need of God’s grace?

Simon clearly did not recognize Jesus for who he was. He probably had a glimmer that this was some sort of holy - or at least learned - man, otherwise he certainly wouldn’t have invited him over for dinner. But it seems that Simon still thought he was doing Jesus a favor. Why else would he have ignored the customary acts of grace that a host would offer to an important guest? Where was the kiss of welcome, the clean water for his dusty feet, the perfume for his head? Shoot, Jesus should have just been grateful to get a free meal, right?