"Do you see this
woman?"
What a question! Of course he saw her. It was his house. He'd
watched her enter and wondered what the hell was she, or anyone like her, doing
there. He'd been transfixed by her "outrageous performance" and was muttering
derisively to himself about her when Jesus broke in with his story about debtors
and creditors. He saw her all right.
Or did he? Perhaps he just saw what
she represented to him. Perhaps he just saw that which he feared and despised
and didn't really see her at all. And he certainly did not see the beauty and
poignancy of her lavish outpouring of contrition and gratitude. Jesus saw it.
Jesus saw her. He saw and understood what she was doing. What's more, he valued
it, valued her and raised her up to be an example to his smug, self-righteous
host. And he spoke to her directly and granted her heart's desire.
I love
it that Marion chose this Gospel reading for her funeral, as she chose all the
readings and music for this service. (Think of them as a sort of final story
outline). Except for the Hebrew Scripture portions, these are not "designated"
funeral readings. But then, what did Marion ever do in the "designated" manner?!
The Hymn to Love from First Corinthians is most often heard at weddings. And the
Gospel: it just takes its turn once every three years with so many other Gospel
passages. It has long been one of my favorites. Especially as a long-haired and
earnest seminary student, I fancied myself in the role, throwing myself at the
feet of Jesus in total devotion, heedless of the shock waves it would send
through the established order. I think Marion was deeply sensitive to and
appreciative of both the extravagance and sensuality of the woman's act and its
importance as a statement against an establishment which had lost both heart and
humor and even its ability to discern the truth which was before its eyes. And
she knew first-hand the complex interweavings of passion and compassion, fear
and hope, sin and forgiveness. She spent most of her life on or over the edge in
one way or another, even amid her great success as an author. I cannot even
pretend to have understood all she was about.
"Do you see this
woman?"
Perhaps the question should be addressed to us. Many from St.
Mark's would be surprised to know that the woman of increasing physical frailty,
so lovingly attended by Raul and Elisabeth, whom they saw at church each week
was a famous author. Her fans might be equally surprised to know she was a
longstanding communicant of the Episcopal Church. Those who revere her as a
sci-fi/fantasy guru might never imagine her down-to-earth matter-of-factness or
her puckish sense of humor. Of course, most of us have not been privileged to
see and know her fully. Indeed, which of us ever knows another's being
completely?
But that is no excuse for not trying to see the full reality
of another and, even more, extending our hearts in affection and forgiveness. If
we do not, we show ourselves one with the blind-eyed self-absorbed host in the
story. The famous are particularly vulnerable to having their unique humanity
obscured by the projections of others. We lionize or vilify according to our own
needs, heedless of the wholeness of the one who has made such an impression on
us.
Thanks be to God for Jesus' clear and loving eye. As he saw, knew and
appreciated the woman in the story, so he sees, knows and appreciates each one
of us. So he has seen, known and appreciated Marion and now does so face to
face. Though we weep here, and weep we must for the pain of our loss, let us not
weep for her. She is whole and well in ways she would never be this side of
death. Her pen and plots have ceased, but her spirit lives on in love. Her work
is her memorial and will continue to inspire. We will dry our eyes and go on
living. But we will also remember. Let us do so with honesty and affection. In
our hearts and minds let us truly "see this woman" whom we gather here today to
celebrate: loving lavishly, if not always wisely or adeptly, a brilliantly
inventive groundbreaker and also a practical, if not totally resigned, bearer of
life's burdens.
Her families, both biological and "adopted," were many
and varied and extend outward to include all her fans and her brothers and
sisters in Christ. Today, as we celebrate this "Easter" service of the
resurrection, we share a foretaste of the heavenly banquet where Marion now
feasts with the whole communion of saints. As Jesus said to the woman in the
Gospel, so we now say to Marion, "Your faith has saved you, go in peace."