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Oscar Wilde’s classic novel The Picture of Dorian Gray tells of a young man named Dorian Gray, the subject of a painting by artist Basil Hallward. Realizing that one day his beauty will fade, Dorian expresses his desire to sell his soul to ensure the portrait Basil has painted would age rather than he himself. Dorian's wish is fulfilled. His life of debauchery slowly corrupts his representation in the painting, which he hides in the attic, but Dorian himself remains as stunningly handsome as ever. In the end, his life comes to a tragic end with his body horribly corrupted and the painting again a portrait of a handsome young man.It has been said that in our contemporary culture we have lost our sense of sin. I would propose that we have rather learned the art of denial. Like Dorian Gray we are willing to hide behind a facade of respectability, while our true self languishes. Because everything seems to be going so well, we gloss over those defects in our lives that thwart any growth in genuine spirituality.David in the Book of Samuel is a classic case in point. He is king. He has the woman he desired. He has it all. Yet like the artist who painted Dorian Gray’s portrait, the prophet Nathan challenges David. Luckily for Nathan, David repents. (Dorian kills the artist!) Facing our hidden selves can be a rather traumatic experience. But denial simply makes that eventual conversion all the more difficult.The woman in the Gospel publically acknowledges her sinfulness in direct contrast to the Pharisee who had invited Jesus to dinner. She is forgiven because she has shown great love. The Pharisee has his hypocrisy exposed by Jesus. It seems that the evangelist Luke, who is known for his appreciation of the women in Jesus’ life and ministry, is using this incident to offer up a contrast for the community between living in a world of denial and embracing the brokenness that often sidetracks us from our relationship with the Christ.I’m not sure if it is easier for a woman to seek forgiveness. What we have in this woman is a willingness to let go of self-illusions and embrace what is, for all of us, essentially a frail and vulnerable human condition. But if we look at the men and women of today’s Scriptures, perhaps what we see is that there may be two sides to our personalities. What we might find helpful is to reflect on just how these conflicting approaches to our human nature manifest themselves. Could the current focused anger at an oil company for a tragic spill in the Gulf of Mexico cover up our own complicity in demanding more and more oil? Could attacks against immigrants, which often border on racism, simply be a portrait that conceals our own obsession with cheap labor? Could those on the right and on the left of any political or religious issue simply be “pharisaical” in their attacks—pointing out the failings of the other side to conceal the flaws in our own position? Of course, these broader issues should not divert us from examining those personal issues of denial in our own lives. We all, at one time or another, have a portrait in the attic.Today’s Liturgy calls us to a change of heart. It invites us to own our own humanity, not to deny it. A model for such a transforming process is that marvelous “spirituality of imperfection” known as The Twelve Steps. Whether from Alcoholics Anonymous or any of the other 12-Step programs, all of us can learn from the gut-wrenching honesty and persistent struggle demonstrated by those who have recognized their demons and have decided to name them and do battle. What I find so very helpful in 12-Step spirituality is the ongoing nature of the process. It is intriguing to me to imagine a Sunday Eucharist’s opening penitential rite with the presider announcing, “Hi, my name is Lou and I’m a sinner!” While standing with him in their brokenness, the congregation, in true 12-Step style, thunders: “Hi, Lou!” (A shame the new Sacramentary is already published!)St. Paul puts the contrasting approaches to brokenness and healing, sin and forgiveness, into perspective. It is no longer about us. It is about the one who gave himself up for us. He has offered us the way out of our conflicted state. All we have to do is own our sin and name the grace which sets us free. He has taken on our frail, weak, vulnerable natures and has given us the opportunity to rise above our humanity, by simply turning it all over to him—one day at a time.