Now one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, so he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and 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. 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. (Luke 7:37-39)
This is one of the most poignant scenes in the ministry of Jesus and it clearly contrasts the heart of religion and the heart of love. In the days of Jesus, when notable individuals visited a town and were invited to a prominent persons home, the villagers were typically welcomed to come and sit around the perimeter of the courtyard and listen to their conversations. Undoubtedly, most seats were reserved for close friends and family of the host but others could, perhaps, hang around the perimeter if they remained quiet and “invisible.”
On this particular evening, one of the “others” broke all protocol and eased her way through the onlookers to the very feet of the notable visitor. I’m sure that both social tension and eyebrows rose as she did so. First of all, this was a woman and women were not welcome to assert themselves in Jewish culture in the first century. More importantly, this presumptuous woman was notoriously known for her sin and certainly did not inhabit the social circles of Simon the Pharisee. It must have been an incredibly awkward moment for the host who had scored a social coup by having this young, controversial, miracle-working Rabbi accept his invitation to dinner. But now, this loose, very unwelcome woman was in the spotlight rather than Simon. More than that, she was making a scene with her sobbing and her theatrics – pouring perfume on the feet of Simon’s guest and wiping is feet with her hair. I’m surprised that Simon didn’t have his servants escort her off the premises but, perhaps, he saw this as a kind of test for Jesus. How would he deal with this breach of etiquette? If he truly were a prophet would he not know that this woman was a blatant sinner and rebuke her before all the righteous gathered in the courtyard?
And what of Jesus? If I had been him I would have found the moment even more awkward with this woman weeping, pouring expensive perfume on is feet, and wiping his feet with her hair with everyone looking on and wondering how these two might be connected – wondering if there were some revelation of scandal in this moment. I’m sure that for her sake and for the sake of everyone there I would have invited her to meet at a better time in a more appropriate setting. But not Jesus. While she is pouring, weeping, and wiping he simply tells a story that justifies the sinful woman and condemns the righteous Pharisee while calmly accepting her worship and repentance. It is likely that only two people in the whole courtyard were not embarrassed – Jesus, the healer of broken hearts, and this broken woman who had come to the Rabbi with a true sense of desperation about her life.
The religious condemned her and rejected her while the creator of the universe and the sinless second Adam embraced her. The religious focused on who she had been while Jesus focused on who she could be. The religious defined her by her sin and wanted nothing to do with her while Jesus saw her sin as the symptoms of a shattered soul and chose to do something about it. If the religious had ruled the moment, this woman would have disappeared into the night carrying an unbearable load of guilt and rejection convinced all the more that God hated her. Jesus showed a different heart and I believe it transformed her life.
The last look at this woman we get through Luke’s gospel ends with Jesus saying, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace” (Lk.7:50). John, however, may open the door for us a little wider when he speaks of Mary in his gospel. In John’s gospel, Mary has a high profile and is the sister of Martha and Lazarus. These three seem to have been very close friends of the Rabbi. You’ll remember that in the 11th chapter of John, Jesus stood outside the sealed tomb of Lazarus and commanded him to come forth, performing the most notable miracle in his three-year ministry. In the beginning of that particular account we are told, “This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair” (Jn.11:2).
Some scholars do not believe that the woman of Luke 11 is the Mary who played such a prominent role in the life and ministry of Jesus, but I see no contradictions. She, who had been forgiven much, loved much. I believe love took a broken, sinful woman and restored her hope, her dignity, and her family. I believe love took a nameless woman without purpose for her life and gave her an eternal purpose and a name remembered for more than two millennia now. No wonder she was so attached to this distributor of God’s love and sat at his feet while her sister rattled the pots and pans. No wonder she believed that Jesus could give life to her brother since he had already given life to her.
That is the triumph of love over religion and relationship over ritual. Religion simply categorized this woman as a battered and worn relic of humanity ready for the trash heap. Jesus, however, saw her potential. He reclaimed her and repurposed her. He made her beautiful and useful while most of us would have simply walked by her like junk on the side of a road. I absolutely believe in love over religion but, if I’m honest, I drift away from love and into religion and judgment more often than I care to acknowledge – not just toward others but also toward myself. How often do I judge and reject my own heart, thoughts and actions as I compare them to some cold standard of acceptability rather than through the eyes of my Heavenly Father who never rejects but continues to repurpose me in my life. When I judge and reject myself, I reject others. When I receive God’s immeasurable love for me I tend to love others so much more. I’m betting Mary was a lover of broken people and my prayer is that I will also love as Jesus loves.
