The table was set, the wine was poured, and as the guests came to recline at table, servants scurried to bring the hot food. The master of the feast certainly knew how to throw a party, and he made sure to invite all the right people. For this feast, however, he took a risk and invited a rather unusual guest. Simon was a Pharisee, and he couldn’t be too careful who he brought into his house. But then, this Galilean rabbi named Jesus was fascinating. To find out just how fascinating, the guests didn’t have to wait long.
“And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment…” (Luke 7:37) Not only was this woman off the guest list, she was just the kind of visitor that doormen are to taught watch for. She had quite the wild reputation, and it was well-earned. Yes, she was that woman, and she just crashed Simon’s party.
All eyes were on her as she walked right over to where the Jesus reclined, “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” (vs. 38). This was a brazenly intimate public display and Jesus was allowing it. Simon thought to himself, “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” (vs. 39).
We can feel some sympathy for Simon at this point. Many of us have had unwanted guests, like that woman, come to into our homes uninvited and act badly. Everyone watching this scene must have felt uncomfortable. Imagine yourself, dear reader, at this party as a guest. How would you have felt seeing this? Simon already had some misgivings about Jesus, especially when he had said, “The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’” (vs. 33)
Simon must have thought, “Very well, compassion for the unfortunate is a fine thing, but could a man of God, a prophet, allow that woman to touch him? He even seems to be enjoying it—shameful!” Simon thought that his moral discernment was obviously superior to Jesus’ permissive ignorance. This probably confirmed Simon’s suspicions of Jesus’ character.
The low murmur among the guests was suddenly interrupted by Jesus. “Simon, I have something to say to you.” Simon was really clueless as to what was arranged for him that day. In his house, the Judge of all the earth, the Holy One of Israel, was about to teach him a precious lesson. So Simon answered lightly, “Say it, teacher.”
Jesus gave 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?”
“The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt,” Simon answered. “You have judged rightly,” Jesus told him. He then pointed towards the woman and 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” (vs. 43-46).
Jesus had not been honored at Simon’s house. Simon, the proud host of the party, had failed to provide affection and hospitality to Jesus, his guest. No one washed his feet or gave him the customary kiss of greeting or anointing with oil. Denying Jesus affection and hospitality was not likely an accident, and it showed he likely had doubts about Jesus.
Jesus showed He was no ordinary guest and shocked everyone when he said, “Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little” (vs. 47, 48). His reasoning here turned their moral theology upside down. Jesus was saying that this prostitute had shown extravagant love for God, while Simon, a man who cared deeply about the law had loved God only a little? How could this be?
Jesus said to the woman, “Your sins are forgiven” (vs. 48), and did not say that to Simon, the Pharisee. The contrast between loving much and loving little became very clear. The woman had known the depths of guilt and despair and was desperate for forgiveness and cleansing. She knew her sins were many, and when Jesus, the Righteous One, offered only what God can give, her love and gratitude were great. Her love for God could only come through a painful awareness of her great need of a savior. His love for her awakened her love for Him.
Simon the Pharisee was not aware of his many sins and felt no need for forgiveness. We can love God only as much as we know the depth of our sins and the amazing grace that God gave to forgive us. Love for God cannot be measured by the accuracy of our law-keeping or avoidance of bad behaviors. Worship and obedience come from a heart of genuine love. “We love because He first loved us” (1Jn. 4:19).
This week is Reformation Day, October 31, when we remember how the gospel of the forgiveness of sins was brought back to light after centuries of darkness. The word of God and His gospel were buried under hundreds of years of worthless traditions that taught men to work their way toward God’s favor. The gospel of justification by faith alone, by grace alone, and through Christ alone, liberated the reformers from all those suffocating traditions of earning salvation. The Reformation was another time when God sent in His people to crash the party. The reformers weren’t perfect, but they carried His message of outrageous, scandalous love for sinners.
How do we learn true love for God? We remember the depth of our need, and claim Jesus blood. We can also sing these words written by a real sinner:
“Twas grace that caused my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved. How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed” (John Newton).
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