September 8, 2026
Tuesday, September 8
Do we all find forgiveness in the same way, or do certain kinds of sins require extra work to receive God’s mercy? This week, we’re looking at two stories from the life of Jesus about two very different sinners. The first is in Luke 7:36-50. Please take a moment to click that link and read the story.
This is a three-person drama. The first person is Jesus. A native of Galilee, He had started His ministry of Gospel-preaching and healing in that northern region of Israel, far from the precincts of Jerusalem. In this story, He receives an unexpected offer: A dinner invitation from a Pharisee named Simon. He’s our second character, and we’ll talk more about him tomorrow.
Today, I want to focus on our third character, who is not named. All we know about her is that she was “a sinner.” In that culture, “sinner” was a technical term for someone who wasn’t welcome in the local synagogue. Luke doesn’t tell us what specific sins this woman had committed, although we can probably guess. Many Christians through the centuries have believed this woman was Mary Magdalene. The origin of this false idea is easy to trace: In a sermon in 591 AD, Pope Gregory I mistakenly conflated this story with that of Mary Magdalene, and Mary of Bethany (whose story we’ll explore later this week). That misidentification has stuck ever since. Be careful what you say about others. You may not be a pope, but your slanderous words today can damage someone’s reputation for years.
This woman enters the banquet. By the way, such “party crashing” was not unusual in the ancient world. Hospitality was such a prized virtue, Simon would have been glad to show his guests his magnanimity by allowing beggars from the streets to arrive uninvited and prepare a plate for themselves. But she has no interest in lamb chops or aged wine. She approaches Jesus and begins to weep over His feet, apparently too ashamed to look at His face. She wipes the tears away with her hair. In First-century Israel, a woman would never unbind her hair in public; it was considered a sign of moral looseness. And to touch someone’s feet was considered degrading, even humiliating. But she doesn’t care about how any of this looks. Imagine, if you will, the awkwardness felt by the well-heeled guests who are watching this highly inappropriate display. Then she takes perfume from an alabaster jar and anoints Jesus’ feet with it. Why does Luke tell us about the jar? This container would be a bottle which could only be broken by breaking its neck. Once you opened it, it was spilled out and gone. This was an incredibly lavish, over-the-top gesture.
By pouring out the ointment—almost certainly the most expensive thing she owns—she is forfeiting her financial security. We don’t know anything about Jesus’ prior interactions with his woman. But we do know He healed many, many people in Galilee. Maybe she was demon-possessed when He met her. Perhaps He healed someone she loved; a child, parent, or sibling. Or maybe He was simply the first man she ever met who didn’t treat her like an object for His personal gratification, but like what she was: A daughter of God. Either way, her gesture is one of worshipful gratitude, not pleading for mercy. Jesus makes this clear in His words to Simon and his dinner guests. She is not there to plead for forgiveness, but to show love to the One who has already forgiven her.
Then Jesus has the audacity to announce to the entire party that her sins are forgiven and forgotten. This is scandalous to the devout people at the feast. No mere human has the authority to extend forgiveness for sins; such orders come only from the court of the Almighty. But that’s exactly who Jesus claims to be. He’s throwing down a gauntlet: Believe in me, and be forgiven. Refuse, and remain separated from God.
For those of us today who already believe Jesus to be divine, the message is different: In God’s eyes, sin is sin. We religious folks have a tendency to rank transgressions. Fornication is worse than greed. Homosexuality is a plot from the pit of Hell, while having a hot temper is a minor flaw. But God sees our sin as rebellion, period. And He stands ready to forgive…no matter what you’ve done. His grace is greater than all our sin.
“Lord, I thank you for your amazing grace. I can’t out-sin your capacity to forgive. Help me never to take that for granted, or to forget that you saved me when I didn’t deserve it. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Senior Pastor
First Baptist Conroe
More from Pastor Jeff at his website: jeffbergerwriting.com
