Luke 7:36-8:3
We really don’t know much about her. We don’t know her name. We don’t know what she did. But the people living her town knew both. They knew all about her sins, whatever they were, they were public, and they were shameful. You are free to use your imagination to fill in the blanks where Scripture does not care to comment. Sufficient to say that people did not wish to look at this woman when she walked by. In fact, I imagine that there were many who despised her so much that they wish she would just go away, or disappear, or even just drop dead.
So it’s no surprise that she would not have been invited to Simon’s house. The only people invited to his house were the spiritual and cultural elites. After all, Simon was a Pharisee. Simon was a homeowner, and an educator, and a very prim and proper follower of the law. And as such, he had invited Jesus into his home for a meal.
But we learn after a little while that he didn’t invite Jesus because he thought highly of him, or that he wanted to learn from him. He invited Jesus to, “put him in his place.” He invited Jesus to let him know who was in charge. It’s really silly when you think about it, inviting God over to your house to impress him and belittle him. But that’s just it. Simon didn’t think Jesus was God’s son, he didn’t think he was the Messiah, he just didn’t think much of him at all. So there was no real welcome into his home. After walking the dusty roads of ancient Palestine, one would have a servant wash your feet upon arrival. You would be refreshed with an anointing of oil upon your head, and your host would reveal how happy he was to see you in his home by greeting you with a kiss upon your cheek. Jesus received none of this common courtesy. He knew he wouldn’t, but he still came and honored this conceited and undeserving man with his presence. Amazing if you think about it.
But soon this dinner would become something that people would talk about for thousands of years to come. Not because Simon said something so wise, or because the food was so good. But because in this Pharisee’s house, two worlds collided. And in the resulting explosion, something important about Jesus was revealed.
The explosion started when the sinful woman, “learned that (Jesus) was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house.” And without thinking, without asking, without any concern for what people might think at all, she just walked right in, uninvited and unwelcome. She wasn’t the type of person that would ever get an invitation to a Pharisee’s house. But she didn’t care. She had heard of this Jesus, and heard what he preached, and nothing would keep her from getting to see him, and give him a gift that she considered in no way compared to the gift he had given her. He had been preaching about repentance and forgiveness of sins. And this was a message she knew was meant for her, and meant a great deal to her.
You can imagine how awkward and upsetting her mere presence must have been for Simon and the others, much less what she proceeds to do when she finally gets to see Jesus face to face. She, “brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment.”
“Ah-ha!,” Simon thought to himself. Here is the proof I wanted. There is no WAY this Jesus is who he says he is, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.” The implication is, of course, that if Jesus only knew this woman’s reputation, he would have cast her away, and reprimanded her, not let her honor him with her tears, and hair, and precious perfume.
But Jesus proves in an instant that in fact he is a prophet, in fact, much more. What Simon only says to himself, Jesus answers with full voice, knowing even his thoughts. “And Jesus answering said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he answered, “Say it, Teacher.”
So Jesus tells him a parable, “A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?”
There could only be one answer, and Simon gives it, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.” Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” Then those who were at table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Such a powerful question, “Do you see this woman?” Simon and the others had not seen this woman for who she really was. They saw her only as an object of scorn. They saw her only as a sinner. They saw her only as a means by which they could stand in judgment and feel better about themselves (at least I’m not like that sinful woman!).
But Jesus saw something totally different. He saw a woman who would come to him no matter what it cost her, no matter what anyone else thought. He saw a woman who knew the depth of her sin, and the depth of Christ’s grace and forgiveness. He saw a woman who was so moved by what Jesus had done for her that she would spare no expense, or shame, or service, or humility in order to thank him for all he had done. Such a contrast to Simon, a man who thought he had no need for Jesus. Where Simon figured he had no real sin of which to repent this woman could not hold back the tears of repentance for her sins. Where Simon would not offer even a washing of Jesus feet by a servant, this woman showered Jesus feet with tears, and wiped them off with the crown of her glory, with her own hair, figuring not even a cloth was good enough for such a royal and merciful Son of God. Where Simon would offer Jesus no kiss of greeting, this woman could not stop making a spectacle of herself by kissing his feet over and over again.
Jesus sums it up so succinctly. “She loved much.” Such a powerful statement. Jesus isn’t saying that she is forgiven because she loved much, but rather that her love is a reflection of the fact that she knows what it means that she has been forgiven. She knows that Jesus didn’t just forgive her large debt, but that he forgave her huge debt of sin, an impossibly large debt to pay back. She got it. She understood that Jesus had worked a miracle in her life that no vial of expensive perfume, or tears, or acts of service could really ever repay. But she couldn’t help herself from showing her gratitude, and her joy to her Savior. She loved much.
And here it is, laid out before us with such powerful clarity. A question which has been asked of anyone reading this scripture for the last 2,000 years; “Do you see this woman?” Do you get what is going on here? Do you see yourself in this person without a name? The answer, you should, because this person is you. This person who has been forgiven much, this person who is so dependent upon the grace of God, is the person you see when you look in the mirror in the morning.
The trouble is, that sometimes we don’t see her. We get caught up in this story playing the wrong role. We play the part of Simon the Pharisee. We think of ourselves to highly, we overestimate our own goodness, we take it upon ourselves to judge others or compare our sins to others, and think that somehow we end up better off than them. And in the end, we are as clueless, and as foolish as Simon, and every bit as dismissive and disrespectful of Jesus as Simon.
Think about it. How often do we think that God doesn’t need to forgive us for that much, really? Even if we don’t have the courage to say it out loud. How often do we focus so much on the sins of others that we don’t bother to do a reality check on ourselves? How often do we approach Jesus with something less than a profound sense of awe, and gratitude, and wonder for what he has done for us. How much do we hold back? I’m not saying that every moment of every day has to be an emotional display or anything like that. But what I am saying is that too often we don’t take the time, or the energy, or really think about who Jesus is, and what it means that he has forgiven us of our sins.
Because the truth is, no matter if according to the world’s standards, we are those who are 50 denarii in debt, or 500, or 5 million for that matter, it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that our sins, no matter how small we might like to think of them, are enough. They are enough to separate us from God for all eternity. They are enough to merit the full wrath and punishment of a holy and perfect God. They are enough to make it impossible for us to come to God without God’s intervention. The only difference between Simon and the sinful woman, was the sinful woman recognized this reality. And in recognizing the reality, she couldn’t resist the opportunity to respond to what Jesus had done.
She held nothing back. She gave her wealth with the sound of that alabaster jar shattering. She gave her sorrow in the wetness of her tears. She gave her honor by using her own precious hair to wipe the dirt off of his feet. She gave her heart to Jesus in front of a room full of people who gossiped about her, and mocked her, and scorned her. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about stuff, or people’s opinions, or her own status because when any of these is held up against the grace and mercy and forgiveness of God, they just don’t even matter anymore.
What confronts me every time I read this passage is how much I do hold back when it comes to praising God. How little emotion, or drive I have to come and be in the presence of Jesus and honor him. We hold back so much, every one of us. For some of us we hold back our time. I can’t tell you how much I hear people say, “I don’t come to church or Bible class because this is my one day to sleep in.” We hold back our reputations by not speaking up when we have an opportunity to talk about Jesus. We hold back our blessings, the very blessings God has given us, when we don’t give our time like we should, or give our money like we should, or use the gifts God gives us like we should. Every one of us here is holding SOMETHING back from God. Every one of us here needs to hear the sound of that alabaster jar breaking completely open, to come running to Jesus, to remember what it is that he has done.
It is God alone that has given us all that we need. It is Jesus alone that has forgiven us of our sins, and gives us the gift of life eternal. It is God alone that has made us his children, not us, or our feeble efforts, or our worthless attempts at justifying ourselves. In short, regardless of our failure to see Jesus for who he really is, regardless of all of the times we have acted like Simon, regardless of all the times we have sinned against our God. He has never held anything back from us. He paid the full price for our sins. He has, in the words of our reading from Galatians, fully made us, “justified by faith in Christ, and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified.”
And it is time, it’s always time, that you recognize this. It’s time that you get on the floor with this nameless woman with her nameless sin and give her your name, and your sin. It’s time that you reconnect with the majesty and wonder, and stand in awe that our Jesus forgives your sins, even your most grevious sins. And it’s time that you hear those words of Jesus uttered so many years ago ring true in your ears today. “Your sins are forgiven… go in peace.”
Amen
