Day 148: Luke 7:39–48

When the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself, “This man, if He were a prophet, would know who and what kind of woman this is who is touching Him—she’s a sinner” (v. 39).

I am learning so much in my journey with Christ Jesus—lessons I wish I had learned long ago. I am learning that my heart and mind are of greater importance to Him than my words and deeds. Our innermost places desperately need daily purification. Part of the process is recognizing and confessing judgmental, impure, or critical thoughts before they can make their way to our mouths and our actions. But God really can change our negative thought processes, attitudes, and motives. The process takes time and cooperation, however, because these thought patterns are just as much habitual sin as the transgressions of the woman of ill repute.

We certainly see how deep-seated this tendency is by hearing the Pharisee talking “to himself.” This phrase and Christ’s response have great importance because they force us to realize that He holds us responsible for the things we say to ourselves. (Ouch.) Yes, He reads our minds. And sometimes, our minds need a viewer rating.

Don’t overlook the fact that Christ’s willingness to allow the woman to wash His feet caused the Pharisee to question whether or not Jesus was a prophet. The Pharisee implied that Jesus obviously did not know what kind of woman she was. The original wording is quite interesting. The English “what kind” is derived from two Greek words: poios, meaning “what,” and dapedon, meaning “soil.” The Pharisee’s comment that Christ did not know where she came from literally meant “He has no idea the dirt she comes from.”

You know what, beloved? Dirt is dirt, and we’ve all got it no matter where we come from. I’m not sure Christ sees one kind of dirt as dirtier than another. One thing is for sure: His blood is able to bleach any stain left by any kind of dirt. Oh, thank You, Lord.

I like the King James Version of Christ’s first response after He read the Pharisee’s thoughts: “Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee” (v. 40). Lest you think I’m feeling pious in my deep compassion for the habitual sinner, please know I’m presently shuddering over the times Christ has had “somewhat” to say unto me! I also love the King James Version response of the Pharisee: “Master, say on” (v. 40) makes me grin. I wonder what he was expecting the Master to “say on”? I have a feeling it wasn’t what Christ said.

Christ told a parable of canceled debts. Two men owed money to a moneylender. One owed much, the other only a little, but neither had the money to pay what he owed, so the moneylender canceled the debts of both. Then Jesus asked Simon to summarize which debtor loved the moneylender most. The answer was obvious, but Simon’s words “I suppose” revealed his reluctance to acknowledge it. After Simon pinpointed the one with the bigger debt canceled, Christ said, “You have judged correctly” (v. 43). Interestingly, Simon had been judging throughout the whole ordeal. It was just the first time he had judged correctly.

Christ then brought the parable to life. He compared the way Simon and the sinful woman had responded to Him. All three times Christ’s description of the Pharisee’s actions began with the unsettling words, “You did not.” How poignant. You see, one of the surest signs of an ancient or modern-day “Pharisee” is a life characterized far more by what he or she does not do than what he or she does. “No, Simon. You did not sleep around. You did not take bribes. You did not externalize your depravity. But as well, you did not give Me any water for My feet. You did not give Me a kiss. You did not put oil on My head. You did not see yourself as a sinner, and you did not receive My gift of grace—but she did.”

He packs the punch into the living parable in verse 47: “Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.” Not because that’s the way it has to be, but because that’s the reality of our human tendency.

A couple of additional truths strike a chord in me. First, I see that Christ never downplayed nor minimized her sin. Human sympathy makes excuses like, “What you did wasn’t that bad” or “After all you’ve been through, no wonder . . . ” But Christ never calls sin less than it is. To picture Christ minimizing the woman’s sinful past is to miss the entire point of the encounter. The point is that even though her sins had been many, heinous, and habitual, she had been forgiven, saved, and liberated to love lavishly. Of all the commandments the Pharisee had kept, she (rather than he) had observed the most important one. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30).

The exquisite beauty of loving Christ is that it makes it impossible to keep only one commandment. The Word tells us that the person who truly loves God will pursue the obedient life (see John 14:21) and be far more likely to persevere in trials (see James 1:12). Loving God is the vital lifeline to all the other commandments.

Christ never preached the annihilation of affection. Instead He taught the redirection of affection. Human affection first directed to God and filtered through His hands returns to us far healthier and fit for others.