I have always looked at Luke 7:36-50, the story of the prostitute who gate-crashed a dinner party, from the angle of how sensitive Jesus was towards the woman, giving her the space and privacy to deal with her emotions. This time I saw that the rest at the dinner party were also major characters in the story.
“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.”
In my imagination, Simon the Pharisee thought that he was doing Jesus a favour, not only letting him rub shoulders with the influential people in town, but also getting a good meal out of it as well. This was not a private dinner and conversation between two people; there were many guests there that evening and it is likely that these people had come because they were curious about Jesus.
The conversation was going nowhere when all of a sudden a woman barged into the room. Everyone was shocked; they recognised her but quickly looked away. She went straight to Jesus and then, strangely, just stood there, clearly in anguish, but unable to do any more, overcome by her emotions. As her tears fell on Jesus’ feet, she tried to wipe them away with her hair and then, still sobbing away, she opened the jar of perfume she was carrying and began to anoint his feet, kissing them.
Everyone expected Jesus to stop her or even chastise her. After all, it was scandalous to have a prostitute fawning all over him. But when he did nothing, and in fact, allowed her to carry on without saying a word, Simon smiled a wry little smile. Well, that was that; he was clearly out of his depth. Whatever Jesus claimed to be, he was no prophet or he would have known and would have acted quickly to stop her.
When Jesus asked him that simple, almost childish, question—didn’t somebody tell him that Jesus taught like he really knew the Scriptures—Simon was already writing off the whole evening. “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven,” he answered. What he did not expect was Jesus’ response:
“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said. Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”
And all of a sudden the tables were turned and Simon was exposed—the game he was playing, his own pettiness, his rude behaviour, his self-importance, his poor treatment of Jesus, his shame. Jesus had compared him with the prostitute and found him wanting. He tried to defend himself, to give some excuse as to why he treated his guest so dishonourably, but Jesus was already done with him. He was dismissed summarily.
As Jesus turned his back on him and turned towards the woman there was a softness in his eyes and a gentleness in his voice.
“Your sins are forgiven.”
There was an audible gasp from around the table. Who does he think he is? Just one last time, Jesus looked around the table but no one dared to question him directly. He turned towards the woman again, now quietly looking up at him, calm, assured, because of what the Lord had just told her.
“Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
I imagine that at this point Jesus left as well as there was nothing more to be said. Judgement has already been delivered.