Jesus Anointed by a Sinful Woman
36 When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. 37 A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. 38 As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
39 When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”
40 Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”
“Tell me, teacher,” he said.
41 “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”
43 Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”
“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.
44 Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. 46 You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”
48 Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
49 The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”
50 Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
I was reading this story this morning, wishing that it was the story of the Prodigal Son, and listening to my boys make quite the unholy ruckus upstairs. Seriously, boys, I’m trying to get with God here.
My bible and I have only crossed paths infrequently lately. Not a big deal, unless, like me, you believe in the power of Jesus’ Holy Spirit to interrupt your reading with His own voice, creating and showing you subtext and context that draw you and your life directly and personally into the story of God saving the earth and everything in it from every form of corruption and degradation conceivable. So, yeah. It was calling to me.
The prodigal son story sounded good to me. A story illustrating how somebody who thought they’d slipped below the waterline of worth crawling back, hanging onto a grain of hope that he could somehow slave his way back into his Father’s good graces, only to be surprised when his Father lifts his skirts to run down the driveway in a rather undignified fashion to kiss him and hold him, and to embarrass himself with affection towards this very dirty, stick-thin, and unclean man. Yeah, that sounded good to me.
But no. Not today. I turned to the place where I’d stopped last time, and came upon this story- rich with possibility. Jesus, who goes where he’s invited. The woman, who pursues Jesus in repentance and contrition. The Pharisee, who has invited Jesus to come and be a guest. Jesus, who mixes with unclean people, risking his holiness. The woman, who endures obvious scorn from the Pharisee. Jesus, who is willing to forgive both.
I have often recognized my tendency towards Pharisaism. It just seems easier sometimes to know and follow the rules as their written. Sorry. Jesus frequently bawled the Pharisee’s out for following the rules of God in such high fashion, but failing to show mercy, love and compassion.
When I think of Pharisees, or myself, I usually think of someone who has dedicated a great deal of time and energy to honoring the Law of God in all it’s rich implication. In committing myself with discipline to living correctly. Why? Because that’s how God designed us to live. It makes sense to live that way. Sorta like reading the manual and using what you gained in it. Just makes sense. I can relate to that. I think I’ve spent a lot of my life and my energy trying to “do rightly.”
Yeah. That’s workin for me.
Thing that struck me this morning is that the Pharisee was appalled that Jesus didn’t appear concerned by his intimacy and connection with this sinner. He’s recorded as thinking … “he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.” The good Pharisee is concerned, for Jesus’ sake, because he’s been caught up into this notion that God’s desire for our holiness is connected to what we do, rather than where our heart is.
What I wonder is if Jesus is so secure in his place in God’s heart that he can’t be touched by the corruption of another’s sinfulness. His faith in God’s power to save has given him strength and freedom to reach out, in justice, loving mercy, and with humble dependence on God.
I’ve been convicted in the last year or so of my own Pharisaism. Not that I live by such a high standard or code, thanking God that I’m not a sinner, tithing my mint and whatnot. Yes, there is some of that mixed into it, but that’s not what God’s been speaking to me about.
The Pharisee in this story isolated himself from the brokenness of the world, from the broken of the world because he was afraid it would drag him down. He was afraid it would somehow rub off, tainting his own posture before God. He couldn’t handle listening to radio stations that played AC/DC and Motley Crue because the lyrics filled his mind with terrible things. The commercials for the Lumber Yard just were too much. The drugs were too much. The cheating, selfishness, and complete idolatry of material goods were too much. What if it rubbed off?
The aroma of Jesus is stronger than the stink of cigarette smoke, the raunch of a dance club, or the smell of beer and puke. The strength of Jesus is greater than addiction, it’s greater than greed, and it’s greater than self-hatred. I just need to grab onto that strength and depend on it. Rather than resting on my own will, my own determination to be pure, my own desire to live holy. Would my life bring greater glory to God were it isolated in holiness? Or dirty like a fishing net? Is the fishing net actually dirty or did it just get some dirt on it?
