Complaints and Complicity

Seeing our own faults as we notice those of others

09/20/2018

Luke 7:36-50 A certain Pharisee invited Jesus to dine with him, and he entered the Pharisee's house and reclined at table. Now there was a sinful woman in the city who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee. Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment, she stood behind him at his feet weeping and began to bathe his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner." Jesus said to him in reply, "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Tell me, teacher," he said. "Two people were in debt to a certain creditor; one owed five hundred days' wages and the other owed fifty. Since they were unable to repay the debt, he forgave it for both. Which of them will love him more?" Simon said in reply, "The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven." He said to him, "You have judged rightly."

Many years ago I learned a clever little come-back when someone complains about me or criticizes me. I would say: “It takes one to know one.” That is, if you lay blame on me for being lazy or protest that I am prejudiced, then I reply, “Takes one to know one,” meaning there’s a little laziness and prejudice in the accuser, too. Every complaint carries within it a little complicity; every accusation is always strangely autobiographical.

The classic example of the complicity of complaining is Queen Gertrude’s now infamous line in Shakespeare’s play Hamlet. Hamlet believes his uncle murdered his father and married his mother, Gertrude. Hamlet wants to induce the guilty couple to confess their sins so he shows them a play in which an almost identical incident unfolds, especially the player queen who expresses undying love for her husband. At that moment, Hamlet asks his mother, “Madam, how do you like this play?” To which, the real queen irritatedly responds, “The lady dost protest too much, methinks” (Hamlet, III, 2). Gertrude’s complaint about the play unveiled her complicity; she did not love her own husband (Hamlet’s father) as much as she should have. There can be found an autobiographical element in every accusation. Why? Well, because it always takes one to know one.

The gospel gives us another glimpse of the complicity contained in every complaint when Jesus dines at the home of a leading Pharisee, Simon. A sinful woman bursts into the formal dinner and bursts open an alabaster jar of ointment to bless Jesus’ feet. The jar was a symbol of her heart that burst with love for the Lord, but the Pharisee felt nothing. Instead, he complains in his own mind about Jesus and the sinner: “If this man were a prophet, he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner.” Notice the complicity of guilt in the Pharisee’s complaint: he believes Jesus cannot tell a sinner when he sees one. But Jesus has not missed that the Pharisee is himself a sinner, and so tells a short story about two people forgiven their debts – much like the play Hamlet had devised – to reveal the guilt of the Pharisee. In other words, there was something autobiographical in the accusation of the Pharisee standing in self-righteous judgment over the sinful woman, namely, that he, too, is a sinner. It always “takes one to know one.” That does not mean you are the exact same sort of person, but it does mean you struggle with your own sins. We are all sinners, and every complaint and accusation reveals a little of our complicity and our autobiography.

Tomorrow our deanery will observe a day of prayer and penance to respond to the clergy sexual abuse scandal. Some people may wonder: “Why should I do penance when I did not abuse a child? If I am not guilty of that sin and scandal, why must I fast and abstain?” Well, each member of the church makes up a part of the Body of Christ, as St. Paul eloquently explains in 1 Corinthians 12. We celebrate victories together and we endure failures together. Further, St. Paul wrote in Colossians 1:24, “I fill up in my own flesh what is lacking the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the Church.” We suffer for each other, even the innocent for the guilty, like parents who suffer for the sins of their children.

But there is another reason for this day of prayer and penance, namely, no one is entirely innocent or guilt-free when it comes to sin. We should not hesitate to call sin a sin, especially child abuse and cover up, but in the same breath we should not be shy to accuse ourselves as sinners, too, as Simon the Pharisee should have done. While we tell Jesus to be sure and notice what terrible sinners some priests and bishops are, realize Jesus is also acutely aware of what terrible sinners you and I are as well. In our own ways, perhaps not as egregiously as the clergy who abused minors, we have sinned sexually, we have abused power, we have manipulated others, we have lied to conceal our faults. Every time someone opens their mouth to utter a complaint against someone, they likewise manifest a little of their own complicity.

When Gertrude complained: “The lady doth protest too much, methinks!” it was really Gertrude who was protesting too much. It was her guilt that was on display. Be careful the next time you want to wag your finger in front of someone’s nose and complain about their behavior; there are always three fingers pointing back at you.

Praised be Jesus Christ!