Life of Christ 63
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| de Gastmahl im Hause Simon by Pierre Subleyras, 1737 |
One of the things that
every ethnicity in the Middle East does well is hospitality. It is almost
always quickly and genuinely and warmly extended, not just to friends, but also
to foes. In accordance with this, a Pharisee names Simon invited Jesus to his
home for a meal, and Jesus consented to come (Luke 7.36-50).
In the Jewish culture of
Jesus' day they often ate formal meals reclining around a low table, lying on
their left elbow, with their feet stretched out behind them. As Jesus was
eating, a woman crept up unobtrusively behind Him until she was standing above
His feet. Suddenly, much to her embarrassment, she began to cry, and the tears
began to roll down her face and onto Jesus' feet below her. At this she knelt,
and gently wiped away her tears from His feet, and then on impulse, kissed His
feet, and anointed them with oil.
As you can imagine, such
a scene brought the dinner table conversation to a screeching halt. The
problem, though, was actually worse than just a strange interruption. This
woman was known around town as 'a sinner' (Luke 7.37), a polite turn of phrase
for an exceedingly impolite woman. In plain language, she was a prostitute, and
everybody knew it.
How had she gotten in?
Wherever Jesus went a crowd gathered or followed, and this occasion would have
been no different. Lining the open portico of the dining area would have been
all of Simon's servants, as well as some of the townspeople, probably. She
mingled, unnoticed, in that crush of people until her actions shrieked to be
addressed.
Why had she come? She
doesn't say. In fact, she doesn't say a solitary word of any kind in our story,
but her actions speak volumes to me. Somehow she had heard of Jesus, and to
hear of Jesus was to hear of His compassion. Perhaps she had even heard the
message I addressed in yesterday's blog post, 'Come unto me, all ye that labour
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest' (Matthew 11.28). Her heart,
weighed down with the accumulated burden of hundreds of illicit sexual
encounters, and the corresponding complete emptiness and brokenness that comes
with such a lifestyle, cried out for that rest. She thirsted in the barren land
of sin and shame, and nothing satisfying there she found, and in the depths to
which she had fallen she cried out, without words, for forgiveness and healing
literally at the feet of Jesus. She wept her pain and repentance and plea for
mercy silently onto the feet of Jesus, and then loved Him so tenderly when that
rest stole into her aching soul.
Simon's response to this
highly unusual event, not verbalized, but clearly evident to Jesus, was
criticism. After all, if He was such a great spiritual giant, how could He let
this woman, this sinner, this foul creature, touch Him? Either He didn't care
that a woman of the streets was making a fool of herself and of Him, or He
didn't know, and in either case He wasn't very impressive.
Jesus, as He often did, used
the opportunity presented to Him to give a tremendous lesson. He began it by
telling a story. Briefly, there are two debtors involved, one that had been
forgiven a very small debt, and the other a very large one. Jesus then asked
Simon a question, 'which of them will love him most?' (Luke 7.42). Simon
correctly answers that the one who had the greatest debt erased, and thus the
greatest burden lived from his shoulders, surely loved the creditor most.
With his own mouth Simon
the Pharisee damned himself. His problem with Jesus wasn't an intellectual
misunderstanding of the claims of Jesus Christ, or even a healthy skepticism
towards a man who wanted to be Israel's messiah. Simon's problem was pride.
That pride was illustrated by Simon's actions as a host contrasted with the
woman's actions as a heartbroken sinner. Simon didn't offer Jesus the common
courtesy of water for His feet, but the woman did. Simon didn't greet Jesus
with a kiss, but the woman did. Simon didn't offer His guest any perfumed
ointment, but the woman did.
Why hadn't Simon done
these things? Very simply, because He didn't love Jesus. Why didn't Simon love
Jesus? Because He didn't think Jesus had forgiven him of anything. Why wasn't
Simon forgiven of anything? Because he didn't think he needed to be forgiven.
In Simon's mind, what was there to be forgiven for, after all, he was a
Pharisee, not a prostitute. But the woman, living with the knowledge, to the
bitter dregs, of her own deep sinfulness, loved Jesus so much more precisely
because she understood that in Him was rest for her soul.
The reason people don't
love Jesus is because they love themselves. Simon had the classic pharisaically
inflated sense of his own goodness, when the actual scriptural truth was that
there was nothing in the least lovely about him in the eyes of God. I know that
because the same is true of me. My heart is deceitful and desperately wicked
(Jeremiah 17.9). All my righteousness are as filthy rags, let alone my sins
(Isaiah 64.6). Yet, O how He loves me (John 3.16)! When I view these undeniable
truths in the full light of day how can my heart not help but swell with love
for Him? 'We love him, because he first loved us' (I John 4.19).
On the one hand we have
Simon the Pharisee, an esteemed man, especially in his own mind. On the other
hand we have a nameless, voiceless woman, a prostitute by trade. Which of them
loved Jesus the most? The one who knew she had been forgiven.
If you would like to listen to the audio version of this blog you may find it here on our church website. Just press 'launch media player' and choose We Preach Christ 34, 'Which of Them Will Love Him Most?'
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