This is the story of a woman. I don’t know her well but I’ve seen her around, walking the streets of our downtown area. She always looks dirty. She sleeps around and has a bad reputation. She is an addict who uses drugs and booze and sex to cope with her circumstances.
This is also the story of a teacher. He is well known and highly regarded in his field. His peers respect him, look to him for guidance, and are given instant credibility just by their association with him.The teacher will often meet with his contemporaries to discuss social matters, debate cultural hot topics, and to come up with new ways of doing things.
Not long ago, tired of Zoom meetings, the teacher and his peers decided to have a socially distanced meeting in the park. The teacher was the first to arrive and made his way to a spot under a big shade tree. As he walked over, the homeless drug addict noticed and recognized the teacher. She had heard about him. This guy has garnered quite a reputation in our community. Some love him, others hate him, but everyone takes notice of him.
The woman watched as the others arrived and meandered over to their meeting spot. It wasn’t long before they all began to grow visibly uncomfortable in the heat, none more so than the teacher who had been there longer than the rest. Even though they were stationed in a shady spot, it was impossible to escape the oppressive summer heat. Many had thought to bring drinks to cool them, but not the teacher. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and run down his face. He attempted to wipe it but he hadn’t thought to bring a handkerchief or towel to use.
The woman glanced at her backpack and realized that she had a few towels. She had gotten them all from the local homeless shelter. One was noticeably nicer and cleaner than the rest so she pulled it from her pile. She also had a bottle of water, still cold, that someone (taking pity on her) had passed to her from their car not long ago. It was missing a sip or two but still mostly full. She wrestled with herself for a few moments but, realizing that the teacher was looking increasingly miserable, she summoned the courage to approach the group.
The woman cautiously advanced toward them. As she did, she realized their chatter was slowing down. Then she noticed that their eyes were all slowly focusing on her, watching. As she grew closer still, the conversation stopped completely. She really isn’t used to being the center of attention and being so made her uncomfortable. Her face grew red and, although she was quite accustomed to the heat, she began to sweat. Without thinking, she used the mostly clean towel and wiped her own soggy forehead, then her armpits, and immediately cursed herself for doing so. She had hoped to give him a mostly fresh towel, not one covered in sweat.
As she approached the teacher, she became acutely aware of her low cut top, of the track marks on her arms, of her stench. She nearly turned around and walked away but was compelled to offer help to the sweaty teacher. She tossed the towel at him and, with shaking hands, offered him the bottle of water. She stammered a few words about noticing that he looked very warm and she wanted to help. She couldn’t help but be aware of the jaws of all the people just hanging in shock at her boldness to approach someone so highly regarded.
The scene then became a bit of a stand off: the group waiting for her to leave, the woman wanting to leave, willing her legs to move, seemingly frozen in place. As much as she wanted to leave, she couldn’t make her feet move. And then, as if in slow motion, with his gaze fixed squarely on the woman, the teacher began to open the clearly already partially used bottle of water. The group watched in horror as the teacher placed his lips on the bottle and took a long drink. They were aghast as he folded the towel in half and ran it through his hair and over his face. One particularly sensitive lady even gagged. Rather dramatic, if you ask me.
Then the insults came, slowly at first but quickly building momentum, the crowd interrupting one another to serve the next verbal blow. “You do realize she had already taken a drink from that bottle, don’t you? Do you know where her mouth has been? Didn’t she just use that towel to wipe her sweat? That’s unsanitary. I mean, it might have lice on it. Or worse. Maybe she has AIDS. Her arm is bleeding. You didn’t touch her, did you? Don’t you know that she is a WHORE?”
The woman, who was mortified mere moments before quickly began to feel something new. Anger. Indignation. She asked herself, “Who do they think they are? They’re not perfect. I know he embezzled from his company, and she cheated on her husband, the whole lot of them are hard-hearted and judgmental. And….and…..”
The teacher interrupted her thoughts. He turned his gaze away from the woman and looked at his peers. “Guys,” he said, “look at this woman. Really see her. Now listen to me. I met you all here and I’ve been absolutely sweating my guts out for the last 5 minutes. None of you offered me one of your drinks. None of you were willing to give me a towel to mop the sweat from my face. But she did. She doesn’t have much but was willing to share what she has when she saw someone in need.”
The teacher then turned to the woman and said, “Your kindness is appreciated. The love you have shown me is how I will see you, not by your addiction or by your reputation. You are deeply loved. Go in peace.”
And the woman did just that. Although she had every reason to be angry, she walked away in peace knowing that she had truly been seen by the teacher and that her kindness had been genuinely appreciated. She did not focus on the crowd because they weren’t who she had come for. She had come to see the teacher and she realized that his opinion of her was the only one that really mattered. He loved her and His love gave her peace.
This has been the story of a woman and a (very loose) interpretation of Luke 7:36-50. I love how Jesus turns everything upside down here. The woman in this story isn’t the villain, even though she had a laundry list of sins. The ones that Jesus chastises the harshest are HIS OWN FOLLOWERS. The ones who sat with him and learned from him. The religious ones. The ones who were quick to condemn the woman. These are the very ones that I have spent much of my life linking arms and identifying with. And do you know what? God’s grace touches us too. His grace is the great equalizer; we all need it and it is there for the taking for us all.
This story has been a reminder that although I might feel that I have every reason and right to point out someone’s indiscretions, that isn’t my role. I need to follow the lead of The Teacher and love first.
And this story has been reminder that although I might feel that I have every reason and right to feel angry and indignant like the woman, I can rest in the peace of God’s love. I don’t think He offered peace in order to protect the crowd from the woman, I believe He offered peace to protect the woman from the crowd. His peace is a gift and I am grateful to have been reminded of it.
Go in peace.
Read more of Abbie Mabary’s contributions to AllMomDoes here.
