We find the sinful woman’s story in Luke 7:37-50. She is not named in the story, although sometimes she is mistaken for Mary of Bethany (Lazarus’s sister) who also broke a very costly alabaster vial of ointment but over Jesus’ head. Also this story refers to this woman as, “a woman of the city who was a sinner.” The word sinner in this case refers to someone in habitual sin. We are not sure what her habitual sin was, but whatever it was, the woman was keenly aware of her sinful state.
Jesus had been invited to dine at a Pharisee named Simon’s house. As a Pharisee, Simon’s invitation is somewhat suspicious, but it appears, by his questions, that, like Nicodemus he was curious about just who this Jesus was.
As the two men reclined at the table – according to custom, they would have been leaning on their left elbow, reclining on pillows around a low table – this woman comes in stands behind Jesus at His feet with a vial of perfume. She is so overcome at her own sinfulness and his perfectness that she starts to weep.
She isn’t just sniffling either. She is sobbing with enough tears that her tears are washing away the dust on Jesus’ feet. She tries to wipe the tears away with the only thing she has handy as a towel – her hair. As she is wiping Jesus’ feet, she is kissing them and anointing them with her alabaster container of oil.
Simon, who is looking at this display with disgust, thinks to himself that Jesus must not be a prophet after all or He would know what kind of woman was touching Him. The common thought was that Jesus was a prophet, and as Simon wanted to find out just who Jesus was, I don’t know if he was glad or disappointed to see what Simon considered proof that Jesus wasn’t.
However, Jesus knew what Simon was thinking, so He asked Simon who would love the the person who forgave their debt – a man who had been forgiven a very small debt or one that had been forgiven a very big debt. Simon, probably wondering why Jesus was asking him such an elementary question, says the man with the big debt. Jesus answers that Simon has judged the matter correctly.
Then Jesus pins Simon to the wall, saying he gave Jesus no water for His feet (a hospitality custom in a culture where people wore sandals and walked on dirt roads), nor had he greeted Jesus with a kiss or anointed His head with oil, yet this woman – whose sins were many – she had gone above and beyond the normal customs, and in so doing showed the depth of her love for Jesus.
The story ends with Jesus telling the woman that her sins are forgiven and that her faith had saved her and she could go in peace.
Once again, we see Jesus offering forgiveness, salvation and peace to a woman society had condemned. Every Pharisee would have recoiled from her touch because it would have made him unclean. But not Jesus.
While it is hard for me to imagine someone crying hard enough to wash someone’s feet and then wiping it with her hair, this story shows us the beauty of brokenness.
This woman believed Jesus could save her and her belief compelled her to seek Him out. She went where she was not welcome, in front of someone who held her disgust. This woman was so broken about her own sin that she couldn’t keep back her tears. They overflowed in a torrent. She was so grateful for Jesus’ presence that she worshiped Him in the only way she knew how – with tears, kisses and anointing oil.
This woman did not cling to her pride or even her dignity. Jesus was more important to her than what anyone thought of her. Worshiping and adoring Him was more important than the cultural etiquette. It was more important than the opinion of Simon, a religious leader. It was more important than her precious ointment which she poured out at Jesus’ feet.
This woman held nothing back from Jesus. Her posture of kissing His feet speaks of surrender and submission and humility.
Her willingness to lay her brokenness, her unworthiness at Jesus’ feet gave her something that I think we can all learn from. She didn’t come with peace, but she left with it.
Because of her brokenness, her submission, she left with something the self-righteous Pharisee at the table didn’t get. She left with the peace that true repentance and God’s forgiveness gives us.
Sometimes, I think we don’t want Jesus to see our brokenness because we are somehow afraid He’ll be repelled or think less of us. So, we come to our quiet time or our church service with our dignity drawn tightly about us, but Jesus wants us to be real with Him. Until we bring all that brokenness to Him, He can’t heal us and put us back together again.
Are you willing to trade your pride for peace?
Blessings, Rosanne