Boundless Grace

Luke 7:36 – 50

 

My kids have experienced a drastically different childhood than my wife or I did. And by and large that’s a good thing. But one of the more peculiar things about it is that my kids haven’t had much opportunity to see me in the same environment I grew up in, mainly Portuguese culture, Hilmar society, and farm life.

 

Lately, it seems that Jacob is just constantly surprised when I exhibit a skill I learned on the farm that he’s never seen me use before, or when I run into people all over town that know me.

 

Either from my own childhood and adolescent experiences, or just because I am Joe Silveira’s son, people know me. Good or bad, my reputation precedes me in some circles. That phenomenon, however, isn’t unique to me.

 

In 1871, deep in the heart of Africa, a journalist named Henry Stanley tracked down a missing Scottish missionary after months of searching. When he found him, Stanley offered a famously polite, understated greeting: “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”

 

It’s one of history's greatest examples of a person's reputation preceding them. Dr. David Livingstone didn't need to introduce himself; his life’s work as a physician, explorer, and missionary had already spoken for him.

 

But sometimes, having a reputation that precedes you is a heavy burden, because people decide who you are before they ever actually know you. Many of us walk around carrying a reputation we wish we could shake.

 

Maybe your reputation is 'the reliable one' and you're exhausted. Or maybe it's 'the one who messed up,' 'the angry one,' or 'the failure.' Your past is constantly introducing you before you can even try to change.

 

Here at the end of Luke 7, reputation creates a massive clash of expectations.

First there’s the well-known, sinful woman who shows up uninvited to an exclusive dinner where she doesn’t belong. Second, there’s Jesus and His growing reputation as a Rabbi, a Good Teacher, and a Holy Prophet.

 

There unexpected interaction scandalizes everyone at the table, and causes them to question who Jesus really is. But Christ flips the script. He shows that true holiness doesn’t run from the broken—it transforms them.

 

Just like Henry Stanley’s famous question, the people at that table were driven by what they presumed to be true about Jesus and this woman. But as we read this passage, we discover that the only reputation that matters is Christ’s true reputation, one of boundless grace.

 

Open your Bibles to Luke 7:36 and let’s see how a faith that saves always produces a love that overflows.

 

While still in Nain, a Pharisee, a member of “this generation” invites Jesus to dinner at his house. When a woman of the city heard that Jesus was there reclining at the dinner table at the Pharisee’s house, she went to see Jesus. But this woman was no ordinary woman.

 

She was a sinner, exactly the kind of person that the complainers of this generation said Jesus was a friend of, and she ends up embodying instead what it means to be a child of wisdom in receiving Jesus.

 

Now, referring to this nameless woman as a sinner might seem ordinary to you. You might think, aren’t we all sinners? But understand what that designation means about this woman.

 

This woman was an unscrupulous, immoral woman whose reputation was well known in the city. Because of her immoral lifestyle, she would have been shunned and looked down upon by the community and especially the religious elite.

 

Certainly not the type of person a Pharisee would have ever invited into his house, much less to his table. For a woman, let alone a woman like her, to interrupt a dinner of elite men is a big social no-no.

 

 

Here she was, having heard that Jesus was there, she just had to be there. God’s irresistible grace is manifested in the person of Jesus Christ.

 

She came with a gift, a beautiful jar of fragrant perfume, which was likely expensive and she would have to break the jar open to use it. Not Walmart perfume, but Saks Fifth Ave. and Harrods of London perfume.

 

So picture the scene: Jesus is reclining at the Pharisee’s table, for what was most likely either a banquet or a Sabbath meal. They sat on large cushions on the ground around the table. Everyone would have been sitting leaning back a little with their legs bent back and partially under them with their feet sticking out behind them.

 

So there’s Jesus, the Pharisee, and whoever else he invited to his table, likely other men of stature and religion. And this woman made her way into the house and stands behind Jesus, weeping.

 

This is where things get scandalous. She weeps so much that she wets Jesus’ feet with her tears, and then she lets down her hair and wipes them clean with her own hair.

 

Jewish women kept their hair up in the 1^st century, especially in the presence of men who were not their husband. It was considered an immoral, sexual temptation for a woman to have her down in the presence of other men.

 

But the scandal doesn’t stop there. She kept touching Jesus’ feet, another intimate gesture. She wet them with her tears, wiped them with her hair, kissed his feet over and over, and poured the expensive perfume on them. The emotion in this scene is sky high.

 

She’s crouching like a house servant behind Jesus at his unwashed feet and weeps in what looks like utter brokenness with all eyes on her, but all her attention is directed at Jesus.

 

She shows no regard for the host, the food, or the audience. The room may smell like the expensive perfume she poured out on Jesus’ feet, but this story is filled with sweet aroma of her Christ-oriented vulnerability.

Because her reputation went before her, Simon the Pharisee strongly believed that this woman had no business being there. More than that, he was fully convinced that her behavior further proved her reputation.

 

But Jesus’ reputation has also been going before Him. All the mighty works He’s done all over Galilee and in Nain, healing, driving out demons, and raising the dead have earned Him a reputation as a great prophet.

 

Now Simon the Pharisee questions that in his heart. He says to himself, if Jesus were truly a prophet, he would know who and what kind of woman was touching him, a filthy sinner.

 

The irony is that Simon the Pharisee is both right and wrong. He’s right that Jesus is not just a prophet, He is so much more than that. Jesus has the divine ability to expose the heart.

 

Yet, Simon is also entirely wrong at the same time. We see in this passage that not only does Jesus truly know who the woman is, uncovering the true nature of “sinner” beneath the social label, and He knows Simon’s true nature as well. Christ truly is a friend of sinners, even those who struggle to admit that they’re sinful.

 

Christ knows what’s in our hearts, and this isn’t the first time that Jesus responds out loud to someone’s inner thoughts. When Jesus drew Simon into a lesson on grace and love, Simon had no idea what he was signing up for when he said, say it, Teacher.

 

Jesus tells Simon this parable about a certain moneylender who had two guys that owed him money. One owed 500 denarii, the other owed 50 denarii. A denarius was about an average worker’s daily wage. That means that one guy owed 500 workdays’ worth of wages, that’s over a year and a half worth of income. The other guy owed almost two months’ worth.

 

That’s a drastic difference in debts. But even so, neither guy could pay it back. The moneylender was entirely within his rights to lock them up in debtor’s prison. In those days, if you couldn’t pay your debts, you got thrown behind bars, and remained there until your family could work and earn enough to pay off your debt and set you free.

Both these men were liable to judgement and the consequences of not being able to pay their debt. But instead, the moneylender cancelled both of their debts.

 

He so graciously forgave their debt. So Jesus asks Simon the question, which of the men who had their debt forgiven will love the moneylender who forgave them more? Simon answers correctly, the one who was forgiven more.

 

It’s at this point that Jesus even acknowledges the sinful woman in the room that everyone else had already been scandalized by. Jesus turns to her, He sees her, but He still doesn’t address her. Instead, He addresses Simon first, and applying the parable says to him, “Do you see this woman?”

 

Oh Simon saw her because he’s already condemned her, and also Jesus because of her. But Christ asks, “Do you see her?” Simon hasn’t really seen her, he’s only seen her label.

 

Jesus then compares her actions toward Him with Simon’s. Jesus says, “I came into your house and you gave me no water to wash my feet, you didn’t greet me with a kiss, and you didn’t even dab olive oil on my head.

 

Yet this woman wet and washed my feet with her own tears and wiped them dry with her own hair. From the moment I got here she hasn’t stopped kissing my feet, and she even poured expensive perfume on them.”

 

You see, before this meal and interaction Simon already thought very little of Jesus. His actions revealed his heart. He held Jesus in such low esteem that he didn’t bother to show Him any kindness or affection as a host. Yet, the sinful woman, because she had been forgiven so, so much, overflowed with love for Christ.

 

Jesus then adds that he who is forgiven little, loves little. But don’t misunderstand Jesus. He’s not saying that the one who has little to be forgiven of loves little. Simon isn’t the other debtor in the parable because even that guy showed a little love when his debt was forgiven. Simon has shown no love at all.

 

This isn’t about the number or severity or the depth of your sin. This is about humility, and recognizing your need for forgiveness and salvation. The woman knew her sinful life was a mess, so much so that in the presence of God incarnate all that she could do was weep. The woman comes with a grief-filled, tear-stained recognition of her own sinful state and clings to Jesus’ feet as the One who alone can offer hope for someone like her.

 

She has loved Jesus much, because her sins—her many, many sins—have been forgiven. Her very public love of Jesus provided the evidence that she had been forgiven of her sins. Christ didn’t turn her way and Christ doesn’t turn you away.

 

Yet Simon refuses to acknowledge his own sin and need for a Savior, and so he doesn’t recognize the truth about Jesus. He doesn’t show Jesus an ounce of love, proving at the same time that he has been forgiven nothing due to his unrepentant and utterly bankrupt heart.

 

Simon trusted in his religion rather than recognizing his own need for forgiveness. That’s still quite common today, especially in those who have spent their whole lives in church. Many Christians today who have spent their whole lives in the pews run the risk of believing that they don’t need forgiveness because they live a good life.

 

That’s the condition we all find ourselves in from time to time, and especially before coming to Jesus. But there’s hope for you in any condition you find yourself in.

 

Hope because there is no sin to deep, too awful, there is no heart so filthy that Jesus cannot cleanse. This woman’s sin didn’t repulse Jesus away, and when like her you recognize how desperately you need Jesus and come to Him in repentance, you too can hear Him say, “Your sins are forgiven.”

 

Jesus finally looks at her, and says to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” That simple. Now everyone else in the room is amazed and start to talk amongst themselves, asking, “Who is this, who even forgives sins?”

 

Because no one but God can see the woman’s true heart, discern the Pharisee’s internal thoughts, and unilaterally forgive sins.

Again we see exactly who Jesus is. This Jesus is one who has the power to heal the sick and raise the dead. He is the Coming One for whom Israel had waited and hoped for. He is indeed a prophet, but so much more than a prophet.

 

He is Jesus Christ, Immanuel, who has divine authority to forgive sins. He is Jesus Christ, God the Son, who willingly and humbly gave His life on the cross so that your sins would be forgiven.

 

He is God incarnate, who on the cross paid your debt, a debt that you could never pay yourself, and bought your freedom from sin, gave you eternal life, and restored your relationship with God. The truth of the passage is that God saves those who come to Christ by faith.

 

You must love Christ and others as one who has been loved and saved by Him.

 

Look at how our passage ends today, “And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’” By faith in Jesus Christ, this woman is forgiven of her sins and saved. She entered that house a notorious sinner but leaves a saint at peace with God.

 

This is one of the clearest pictures of the gospel. Christ’s forgiveness of sin equals salvation. Notice that it’s not her love that saved her. Jesus is clear, she is saved by her faith. Her love, the things she did, were a witness to her faith and forgiveness. That’s why you must love Christ and others because of the grace you have received.

 

So this week, receive God’s grace with humility. Simon isn’t scandalized because the woman is sinful. He’s scandalized because Jesus is willing to receive her. Beneath that is Simon’s self-righteous assumption that he himself is somehow in a different category.

 

When we become more bothered by someone else’s sin and subsequent grace than we are amazed by God’s grace toward us there’s a real heart problem. Both guys in the parable owed money they couldn’t repay. Only one realized the magnitude of what had been forgiven.

 

When you’re tempted toward self-righteousness, get on your knees, preach the gospel to yourself, and thank God that He’s saved you. You’re not saved because you were worthy, no one is. Ephesians 2:8 – 9.

Next, love Christ with an extravagant attitude. This woman’s love for Jesus isn’t restrained, calculated, or concerned with appearances. She pours herself out at His feet because she has received grace.

 

Ask God to search your heart and show you whether your heart has become a box check. We can attend church, read our Bibles, serve, teach, give, and do all the “right” Christian things while our hearts become cold toward Christ.

 

If it has, repent and return to the grace you first received. You don’t manufacture love for Christ by trying harder to love Him. You cultivate love for Christ by remembering how much you’ve been loved and what you’ve been saved from. Grace received becomes love expressed.

 

Lastly, extend Christ’s love to people you don’t think deserve it. Jesus doesn’t just expose Simon’s lack of love for Himself. He exposes the truth that Simon’s judgement of the woman revealed something rotten in his own heart.

 

Who is the person that you have already decided is too difficult to love? The person with a bad reputation, whose past makes you uncomfortable, whose politics irritate you, who has made the same mistake over and over again, who doesn’t fit comfortably into your church culture? Maybe it’s the person you secretly think has gotten more grace than they deserve?

 

The gospel tells us that we don’t get to set the boundaries of God’s grace. Loving that person doesn’t mean approving their sin, ignoring wisdom, or pretending that hurtful behavior is acceptable. It means treating them as a person who needs the same grace we need.

 

If Christ has loved and saved you, who will you intentionally love this week because of Him? Don’t just feel love, but actually do something for them. Call them, invite them to dinner, sit with them, listen to them, forgive them, encourage them, serve them, pray for them, speak the truth to them with gentleness.

 

You have to choose to pursue the person you want to avoid. The sinful woman didn’t just feel grateful, in her grace become visible. Grace received becomes love expressed.