Reading 23
The woman at the Pharisee's table
The reading
Luke 7:36-50
One of the Pharisees invited him to eat with him. He entered into the Pharisee's house, and sat at the table. Behold, a woman in the city who was a sinner, when she knew that he was reclining in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. Standing behind at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, and she wiped them with the hair of her head, kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, "This man, if he were a prophet, would have perceived who and what kind of woman this is who touches him, that she is a sinner."
Jesus answered him, "Simon, I have something to tell you." He said, "Teacher, say on." "A certain lender had two debtors. The one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they couldn't pay, he forgave them both. Which of them therefore will love him most?" Simon answered, "He, I suppose, to whom he forgave the most." He said to him, "You have judged correctly."
Turning to the woman, he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered into your house, and you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head. You gave me no kiss, but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss my feet. You didn't 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 to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little." He said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." Those who sat at the table with him began to say to themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?" He said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you. Go in peace."
The companions
Psalm 130
Out of the depths I have cried to you, LORD. Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my petitions. If you, LORD, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? But there is forgiveness with you, therefore you are feared. I wait for the LORD. My soul waits. I hope in his word. My soul longs for the Lord more than watchmen long for the morning; more than watchmen for the morning. Israel, hope in the LORD, for with the LORD there is loving kindness. With him is abundant redemption. He will redeem Israel from all their sins.
Isaiah 1:18
"Come now, and let us reason together," says the LORD: "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. Though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."
A word for the week
Why do some people seem to love God with a depth and a fire that others never reach? Jesus answers that question in this scene, and the answer is not what you would guess. It is not that some people are naturally more spiritual, or try harder, or have better discipline. It is about how much you know you have been forgiven. And it plays out at a dinner party, in the tension between a respectable host and a woman off the street.
A Pharisee named Simon has invited Jesus to dinner, politely but coolly; he does not even offer the usual courtesies of water for the feet or a greeting kiss. And into this proper gathering comes a woman the whole town knows as a sinner. She has heard Jesus is there, and she comes with an alabaster jar of expensive ointment, and she stands behind him at his feet, weeping, and her tears fall on his feet, and she wipes them with her hair, kissing them and pouring out the ointment. It is an extravagant, undignified, unstoppable outpouring of love and grief and gratitude, in front of everyone, and she does not seem to care who is watching.
Simon is appalled, and he thinks to himself: if this man were really a prophet, he would know what kind of woman is touching him. And Jesus, who does know, tells him a small story. Two men owed a lender money, one a huge sum, one a small one. The lender forgave them both. Which one, Jesus asks, will love him more? Simon answers, correctly but grudgingly: I suppose the one who was forgiven more. Exactly. And then Jesus turns to the woman and lets the point land on Simon. You gave me no water, no kiss, no oil, he says; she has not stopped washing my feet with her tears. Her many sins are forgiven, and that is why she loves so much; but the one forgiven little, loves little.
There is the answer to the opening question, and it is a strange gift. The people who love God most extravagantly are usually not the ones who have been the most respectable. They are the ones who know, in their bones, how much they have been forgiven, how far down the mercy reached to find them. The woman loved like that because she knew exactly what she had been rescued from. Simon loved coolly, correctly, at arm's length, because he thought he did not need much rescuing. His problem was not that he had sinned too much. It was that he thought he had sinned too little to need the kind of mercy she was drowning in.
And that is a warning to the respectable, to the churchgoing, to anyone who has kept their life reasonably tidy. It is possible for tidiness to become the very thing that keeps your love small, because you never feel the weight of what you have been forgiven, and so you never feel the flood of gratitude that makes someone weep at his feet. The woman went home with the best words anyone can hear: your sins are forgiven; your faith has saved you; go in peace. Simon went home with a clean reputation and a cold heart. If your love for God has gone thin and dutiful, the cure is not to try harder to love. It is to remember, honestly, how much you too have been forgiven.
At the table
Has your love for God gone cool and correct like Simon's, or is it warm with gratitude like the woman's? What have you been forgiven that you have stopped feeling the weight of?
Scripture quotations are from the World English Bible (public domain). The divine name is rendered "the LORD" in the companions.