Over the last week I have been on a personal retreat at Conception Abbey, a Benedictine monastery in northern Missouri, while trying my best to get some serious work done on my thesis. My research, which is a socio-rhetorical study of opposing-turn questions in the Gospel of Luke, has given me the opportunity to work with the questions of Jesus on both a macro and micro level—while I am particularly focused on seven major questions, I have also been analyzing the rhetorical portrait of Jesus that emerges from the more than 106 total questions he asks in the gospel as a whole.
One of the most puzzling questions that I came across while studying Luke is from the story about the woman who anoints Jesus and washes his feet with her hair (Luke 7:36-50). Jesus has just finished having dinner with a Pharisee named Simon when an unnamed woman approaches him and begins to weep and pour oil over his feet. Responding to Simon’s shock, Jesus tells a parable about the love of two debtors whose debts have been canceled by their creditor, implying that the one with the greater debt would love the creditor more. Apparently he wishes to elaborate on the lesson a little further, because this happens next:
And turning to the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? (Βλέπεις ταύτην τὴν γυναῖκα)”
There are a couple things that are interesting about this question. 1) Doesn’t it seem kind of odd that Jesus “turns to the woman” while speaking to Simon the Pharisee? and 2) What is the purpose of the question itself? It is certainly not information-seeking; Simon clearly sees the woman that is standing in the room with them. It might be rhetorical, but if so, what rhetorical purpose does it serve? It might simply serve to draw the attention of the Pharisee and the reader back to the woman, but it seems like an awfully brief break in the narrative to warrant that kind of device. Also, if this is the case, it seems to operate on a highly oral rhetoric as opposed to Luke’s typically literary rhetoric. “You see this…?” is not an uncommon phrase in casual conversation, but it feels out of place here in narrative form. I currently don’t have access to any commentaries except for my copy of Fitzmyer’s two Anchor Bible volumes on Luke, which don’t even acknowledge the question.
There is one reflection that I had about the contemporary application of the question in context—is it possible that the Pharisee didn’t in fact see the woman? Not in any physical sense (she obviously wasn’t invisible), but did Simon really see her? Or was he simply looking through her? Looking past all her regret, her need for forgiveness, and seeing only “what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner” (v.39)?
“Do you see this woman, Simon? Do you really see her?”
the archives near Emmaus 
I just read a review of a very interesting-sounding book that might address this kind of literary feature. It is by Daniel Lynwood Smith, The Rhetoric of Interruption: Speech-making, Turn-taking, and Rule-breaking in Luke-Acts and Ancient Greek Narrative (BZNW 193; Berlin: De Gruyter, 2012).
Woah! Thanks for the recommendation, Michael! I’ll have to look into Smith’s book for my thesis. Haven’t run into it yet in my research.
Yes, rhetorical point: Jesus’ question is, in fact – depth grammar – a command: “Simon, look at this
Yes, rhetorical point: Jesus’ question is actually – depth grammar – a command: “Simon, look at this woman!” But I really like your substantive point. The woman, as a sinner, is invisible to Simon. She occupies – and pollutes – a space in his house, but he does not see her (cf. Mark 4:12a).
Oops, sorry about the typing mix-up!
Ah, Conception Abbey! I’m from KCMO (now in DC), so your entry allows me to re-enter my past.
Good question about the question. Your rephrasing, “Do you REALLY see her?” strikes me as excessively homiletical, but maybe . . .
I’m struck that you’re there in a monastery longing for academic help (via commentaries and the internet), when maybe what you need to do (or what I would do if I were there) would be spend time with the question, chew on it with a spiritual director, chant it with the monks in worship, etc. And maybe you’ve done all that.
Do you see this woman? Do you see this man struggling with this question? I wonder what Spirit is asking–demanding–you (and me) to see. What is being conceived in you there in that abbey?
You say that you’re trying to finish up your (fascinating!) thesis. It’s interesting that you’ve chosen Conception Abbey in which to do it–in the Show Me State! I pray that Spirit will show you. It sounds like an important question for you, for perhaps all of us.
Peace to you, Joshua Paul (Wow! What a name!)
Michael
I meant to say in the third paragraph, the third line above, “spend time with the question in silence,” but you probably understood that that’s what I meant to say.
Best wishes for your work. I have seen the “does Simon really see her” in a couple commentaries, although it does seem rather homiletical, as Michael noted above (but Simon really doesn’t see her as Jesus sees her). This is the first time I have seen anything about your work, so I don’t know what else you are looking at. For me, hospitality and the host/guest relationship is key here. I could suggest a few resources on those, if you need some. Another key element would be the developing characterization of the Pharisees in Luke (this is the first of three encounters in Pharisees’ homes, and it is after the series of five controversies in chapters 5 and 6). I also wouldn’t totally ignore the possibility of humor/sarcasm, depending on how shocking one interprets the actions of the woman.
I’d bet money this is a routine way back then of getting someone’s undivided attention. Sort of like the double amen’s John employs preceding important statements by Jesus.
I like the fact Jesus was addressing Simon while looking at the woman. I think this is His unique way of assigning her value that Simon wishes to avoid.
I think Kim’s point above is intriguing. The inserted question mark (;) may detract from the implied command of the text. I know there is no imperative, but the question does come across as sort of like a parent scolding a child, “Do you see what you’ve done to my car?” In other words, “Look at my car! Do you recognize the implications of your actions?” Jesus may be saying, “Do you see this woman? Look at the implications of your actions when juxtaposed with her actions.” In your research has there been much about questions that are commands in some sense (don’t remember if Estes discussed this at all in his book).
Thank you all for your comments. I should clarify that this particular passage is not one of my focus passages for my thesis, it’s just a question that caught my attention and has had me puzzling for a while now. There are a few other unusual questions in the Gospel of Luke that I will probably post about in the coming weeks/months, but I doubt I will post any reflections on the questions from my study until I have finished and polished my thesis a bit.
Well, Brian, there are request questions, but those aren’t really questions, just dressed-up statements. I think Estes uses the example, “Would you please pass the salt?” It’s not a question. It’s a command that has been worded according to modern etiquette. “Pass the salt.”
Also, Patrick may be right. It’s surely an attention-getting device. However, I’m fairly certain that the use of the phrase “Amen, amen” is a pedagogical technique that was unique to Jesus. I’m not aware of its use anywhere else in ancient Jewish literature.
Do you think this might be something like a request question?
I’m really not sure. I don’t think so, since Jesus doesn’t appear to be asking Simon for anything.
Another more likely possibility is that it could be a modified indexical question, which references a previously mentioned part of the conversation. But usually indexical questions deal with ideas, not individuals. But it’s possible.
Joshua,
The “amen,amen” thing is an ancient semitic way of emphasis I’ve read about and modern Arabs still use it. “No,no to America”. Yes,yes to Iraq”. I saw lots of such signs in Iraq on the news.
They did not have ways we use for emphasis like “hell no”! or “absolutely not”, so they would repeat ,”no,no”!
“Amen,amen” to Jesus would be “I’m here to tell ya” to me.
Attention grabber. I tend to think this is why Jesus acted as He did with Simon and this woman.
BTW, it is unclear to me if Jesus really used that idiom or if John used it as a literary device himself. I say this because the other evangelists didn’t attribute that to Jesus.
John is the only gospel writer to use the double amen, amen, lego humin, but all of the Synoptics also have Jesus using a single amen, lego humin.
Woah…I guess I missed David Gowler‘s comment on here the first time I read it through. Thanks for your comment, David! I’m currently looking into your work on Jesus’ conflict with the Pharisees for the main chapter of my thesis, which will analyze the rhetoric of Jesus’ challenge questions in their social context.
Thanks, Joshua. I am honored that you are looking at my work. The book was written 25 years ago, and studies like yours could certainly help refine the portrait of the Pharisees in Luke-Acts. In fact, your work could have informed an article I recently wrote on the Rich Fool parable, which ends in a question! I have refined my own approach over the years, but I look forward to seeing your work and learning more. All the best, David
It strikes me that the structure of this phrase is very similar to the anacoluthon find in Mark 2.10, which is unfortunately smoothed out in some English translations such as T NIV. I have always taken this as a mark of recollection of the ipsissima verba of Jesus.
(and I’m still trying to get over the fact that Apple’s Siri recognised the word anacoluthon!)