“Then one of the Pharisees asked Him to eat with him. And He went to the Pharisee’s house, and sat down to eat. And behold, a woman in the city who was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at the table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of fragrant oil, and stood at His feet behind Him weeping; and she began to wash His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head; and she kissed His feet and anointed them with the fragrant oil.” (Luke 7:36-38)
The scene is set with economy and beauty – the Pharisee’s disgust, the woman’s tears, kisses, devotion and love poured out.
And then a conversation begins. “Simon, I have something to say to you.”
Simon thought he had the measure of his guest. He had seen travelling teachers before, and seen through them.
“There was a certain creditor who had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing with which to repay, he freely forgave them both. Tell Me, therefore, which of them will love him more?”
His mind raced. Is this a trick question? Surely not, the answer is too obvious. He replied cautiously, “I suppose the one whom he forgave more.“
“You have rightly judged.” Simon was relieved. Then the Lord Jesus turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman?“
Yes, he saw her, or thought he did.
Do you see this woman? Consider. This unnamed woman must have known something about men. She would probably have seen vile hypocrisy in the apparently pious, and men considered honest secretly betraying their wives. Who could she trust? But there she is, kneeling at the feet of Jesus, ceaselessly kissing His feet with many tears, in unrestrained love and gratitude. Why?
Her many sins were forgiven, that’s why. The Lord Himself said so before them all, and because she knew she was forgiven her love for Him overflowed. Then He added, “but to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.”
The Pharisee loved little, very little, and he displayed his indifference by insulting his humble guest, multiple times. Love doesn’t do that. Indifference can’t help doing it.
So when our love burns with only the faintest glow, when there is little to warm the heart or spur devotion, the reason is here plainly set before us. We have lost sight of, or perhaps we never knew, the forgiveness of our sins, and so, to our shame, we love our Lord little, if at all. I might offer up some common excuses, but there are none that will withstand His gaze.
What can I do to soften a heart of flint? I can ask the Holy Spirit to reveal to me the ugly truth about what I am. I can ask Him to bring to light the idols and the lust, the rebellion, the murder, the selfish greed and the pride that is behind it all. And when I have seen something of all this (and I will not see it all, not yet) then I will turn in desperation to the Saviour who has so loved me that He made my filthiness His own, and suffered God’s fierce judgement in my place. I will begin to see what forgiveness means, what it cost, and a little of the inexplicable divine love lavished upon this ungrateful wretch.
Then He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.“
We hear of this woman no more, but her devotion, like that of Mary of Bethany, has continued down through the centuries as an eloquent witness to the incomparable Saviour, and to His wondrous love, mercy and forgiveness.
Do you see this woman?
