Unnamed but Known for Who She Could Be

She was a party crasher.  She came uninvited to the church leaders’ private dinner with Jesus. She was not only an uninvited guest, she was a woman none of the men wanted to be seen with, at least not publicly.  While no one spoke her name, everyone was familiar with her reputation.  She was a prostitute.

I wish I knew her backstory.  I wish I knew what life reversals sent her to the streets and dark places.  What made her so desperate that she would give her body so recklessly?  Who devalued her?  Who rejected her?  Why was prostitution her only option for survival?

I always see this story in slow motion.  She walks into the room unnoticed at first, but becomes the only person everyone sees.  The dinner guests gasp, whisper, and point. However, the woman only has eyes for Jesus and goes directly to him, where he is reclining.  

She kneels behind him, breaks the vial of perfume she wears around her neck. The perfume drips onto his feet, one fragrant drop at a time.  She is crying so hard that her tears also drip onto his feet. Without thinking about what she is doing or who is watching,

she removes the pins that hold her waist-long hair and uses her thick strands of hair to dry the feet of Jesus..

There is a rumble at the table as the host mutters his disgust, but not just for the woman. “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him... that she is a sinner.”

Ah, but Jesus does know who she is and uses a parable to teach his host an important principle.  It is a story about a moneylender who canceled two debts, one large and one small.

“Which forgiven man is more grateful? Jesus asks.

“The one with the largest debt, of course,”  Simon answers.

Then Jesus turns Simon’s attention to the woman, “Simon, do you see this woman?”

Of course, he sees her, but he only sees her as a sinner to be devalued and thrown out.

Jesus looks at the woman and says,  “Your sins have been forgiven.”

All the nights.  All the men.  All the hurt.  All the lost hope.  All the rejection. Every reversal and put-down.   She had washed Jesus’ feet, but Jesus washed her heart.

Every time I read this story, I don’t see a prostitute.  I see myself as less than who I want to be, kneeling at Jesus’ feet.  I see where I  acted like I didn’t care about the rejections and the hurt. I see where I feel left out, left behind, and struggling on my own. 

But Jesus always sees who I can be.  His love is big enough, strong enough, and creative enough to help me become who He knows I can be. 

I may not come with a perfume vial, but I come with baggage I don’t know how to let go.  Jesus knows the me I need to meet in Him.  It is the me He created to do His will and become the person he has always seen first.

Have we become complacent with who we are, instead of being desperate to discover who we can be in Jesus?  He is waiting to refute every self-generated put-down and eliminate the need for rationalization.  He is for us like no one else. 

Whatever it takes, let Jesus start a conversation with you about who he knows you can be.  He’s been waiting for you to ask. Why not start the conversation today?