THE Saviour was sitting at meat in the house of a Pharisee. His spirit was sorely grieved at the time. He had just had occasion to rebuke the men of His generation for their indifference to both John the Baptist and Himself. The stern asceticism of the forerunner so irritated them that they said he had a demon; and the geniality and graciousness of the Saviour so offended them that they called Him a gluttonous man and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners (Luke 7:31-3531And the Lord said, Whereunto then shall I liken the men of this generation? and to what are they like? 32They are like unto children sitting in the marketplace, and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not wept. 33For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine; and ye say, He hath a devil. 34The Son of man is come eating and drinking; and ye say, Behold a gluttonous man, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners! 35But wisdom is justified of all her children. (Luke 7:31‑35)).
Something to refresh His heart would have been deeply appreciated at that moment. But He was not to receive it at the hands of His host. He in his deplorable blindness was wholly unconscious who he had at his board that day. His God was there, but he knew it not. Yet he was a religious man―one of the ultra-religious indeed. His Guest was, in his eyes, simply a traveling preacher, to whom it might be well to grant a meal. It had occurred to him that He might possibly be a prophet, but this thought he dismissed as he noted His conduct in his house. So little did he esteem his Guest that he did not even offer Him the usual Eastern courtesies―water for His feet, etc. Truly there is nothing so blinding or benumbing as empty, formal religion.
Presently a woman of the city―a moral derelict from the streets―crept into the dining-hall, hearing that Jesus was there. Her soul was burdened. Sin lay heavily upon her. But she discerned in Jesus the Saviour of sinners. Whether He suited others or not mattered little to her; to one burdened with guilt like herself He was just the One she needed. None other in the universe could meet her case. She had heard of His grace to sinners, and her heart was attracted. No restraints or Pharisaical proprieties were suffered to stand in her way. She sought Him out, and claimed, not in words but in deeds, a personal interest in His saving grace. To the deep disgust of the host she rained tears upon the Saviour’s feet, wiped them with the hair of her head, kissed them fervently, and anointed them with ointment.
The Lord, aware of what was passing in the mind of the Pharisee, turned to him thus: “Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed him five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most?” (Luke 7:40-4240And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. 41There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. 42And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most? (Luke 7:40‑42)). To such a parable but one answer was possible, and the application was evident. If each man’s record of sin is not equally vile, there is no room for boasting, since “all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” It ill becomes one therefore to scorn another. Each would be well advised to seek pardoning grace for himself.
Turning to the woman, the Saviour said: “Thy sins are forgiven.” He had come down from heaven for the salvation of such as she, and He was on His way to Calvary to expiate her guilt. Never again could she number herself amongst “miserable sinners”; ever after with gratitude her lips would say, “I believe in the forgiveness of sins, and in the life everlasting. Amen.”