Story of Love
One of the “joys” of having been in youth ministry over the last 11 years is that I tend to assume the role of “mom.”
I mean look - given the choice of disciplining or dressing up in a banana costume (because how else do you keep teens engaged learning about the fruit of the spirit?), I’m taking the banana costume.
I’m always down for four-square, ultimate, and a good round of card games. You want me to take the stage and interpretive dance? Ask no more - I’m in!
But I’m also the leader that tends to be the last one out of the room because I’m picking up trash or a lost shoe.
I learned earlier this year on a youth retreat that even my now husband sees me in this role. Not only did I pick up a beanie and headphones, but somehow I ended up with Jacob’s phone in my final sweep of the room.
It’s how youth ministry goes - the final sweep of the room and you get the scraps everyone else left behind.
It’s always fun being the hero of the story or at least a “good guy.” When I read the Bible, it’s fun to put yourself in the shoes of people like Moses or David - anointed by God. Yeah they messed up, but they are anointed.
I don’t like to picture myself as Eve because I don’t want to be the reason the world is broken nor why all women suffer during childbirth. I don’t like to picture myself as the traveler in the Good Samaritan because I don’t want to be beaten up. And well…I like to pretend I’m like Mary, but we all know I’m more like Martha.
So I certainly don’t want to picture myself as the woman Luke describes as a “sinner.” Yeah, yeah, I know - I am a sinner. But I don’t think my coworkers walk around calling me the “sinful woman.” They just call me by my name.
But the long preface for this - imagine yourself being called just that - the sinful woman….
You’ve lived an infamous life. Everyone in town knows all about you, except your name. People stare at you because they know about what you’ve done. They call you “sinful woman.”
Your life has been just that. You’ve lived off the scraps of others. Men use you as their object to give themselves temporary pleasures. But then leave you back on the streets where they found you.
During your days on the streets, you’ve heard the rumors. These rumors aren’t about you, but about this man named Jesus. You’ve heard about the miracles.
“I heard at a wedding they ran out of wine. That man Jesus, He came and turned water into wine.”
“I heard a dirty man with leprosy stopped Jesus on the street. And Jesus touched him!” “No way!” “Yeah, and then he healed him!”
“My friend told me in Nain, Jesus raised a boy back to life!”
“Hey, I heard Jesus is in town today with some of the Pharisees”
Your ears perk up at the sound of his name. You think to yourself - if I can just get to him.
You go home and rummage through your stuff. You have to bring something to him. You don’t have much and you continue rifling through your belongings. And then you remember. The alabaster jar. It’s your most prized possession. It’s worth more than you can make in a year.
You run your fingers through your hair, then grab the jar. You walk as fast as you can to the house where you know the Pharisee’s gather. You’re walking so fast, it’s almost a run.
He’s there - right in front of you. His back is to you, but his presence is enough to bring you to your knees. You begin weeping. You look up and see his feet and so you begin wiping them. You feel like you are not holy enough to be in his presence. You do the unthinkable - you open the jar and start pouring the oil. You forgot a rag, so you wash his dusty feet with your hair.
The Pharisees gawk at the sight. Jesus’s “disciples” scoff at you. But Jesus - he doesn’t.
He bends down. He makes sure your eyes lock. His eyes are so gentle - they see the innermost parts of who you are.
He stands and looks at the Pharisees and disciples and scolds them, “Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” (Luke 7:47)
And then he returns to you. His eyes, again, hold yours. He says gently, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
The Advent Story of Love is one of abundant love. In the words of Lysa Terkeurst:
“Live from the abundant place that you are loved, and you won’t find yourself begging others for scraps of love.”
Whether you are the youth ministry “mom” or the “sinful woman” - you were never called to be begging for scraps of love. You were called to be Children of God. And Children of God were created to be loved abundantly.
And that abundant love is the Advent Story.
